I Have A Feeling That Beneath The Little Halo On Your Noble Head There Lies A Thought Or Two The Devil

❤️❤️😌😌

tag list: @fangirlshrewt97 @stanleykubricks @tulodiscord @bromance-minus-the-b @ssabriel @teddybat24 @rambheem-is-real @rambheemlove @jrntrtitties @sally-for-sally @ramcharantitties @yehsahihai @ma-douce-souffrance @budugu @stuckyandlarrystuff @nyotamalfoy @veteran-fanperson @kookiries @pine-breeze @ronaldofandom @hissterical-nyaan @stuckyandlarrystuff @milla984 @sukitaee @bitchy-bi-trash @yonderghostshistories @whoareyouallofasudden @filesbeorganized

Ram to Bheem: Speaking as a completely objective third party observer with absolutely no personal interest in the matter, I'm not really sure that you and Jenny really mesh well together.

Queering Bengali Cinema: Rituparno Ghosh's Retelling of Cultural Texts

Themes of loneliness drive my films"

~Rituparno Ghosh

Antarmahal (2005) Shubho Mahurat (2003) Chokher Bali (2003) Abohomaan (2009) Dosar (2006) Utsab (2000) Dahan (1997) Unishe April (1994) Shob Charitro Kalponik (2009) Asukh (1999)

Rituparno Ghosh was a gender nonconforming, sexually dissident filmmaker who made and acted in films revolving around openly homosexual, bisexual and transgender characters. For his work, he won accolades including national awards in India and recognition at film festivals around the world. In 2013, 50-year-old Ghosh met with an untimely death due to heart attack; however, he lives on as India’s most visible queer icon, whose mere presence shook the heteropatriarchal foundations of Bengal’s as well as India's cultural milieu.

In two decades of his filmmaking career, Ghosh consistently engaged with topics considered taboo in the Bengali bhadralok society. Even though, it was much later that he started working with explicit queer content in his films, in the early phase of his career, in films such as Unishey April (1994), Dahan (1997), Bariwali (1999), Utsab (2000), Shubho Maharat (2003), Ghosh dealt with trauma and repressed desire of women in a patriarchal society, seen by scholars as a reflection of the agony of a queer individual in the proverbial closet in a heteronormative society.[1]

Ghosh’s cinema was relatable for the Bengali bhadralok because it was heavily influenced by the film aesthetic of revered filmmakers such as Satyajit Ray. While this visual language made him a favourite of the English-educated, urban Bengali, his exploration of the ‘unusual themes’ placed him at the receiving end of scathing criticism. Ghosh, however, was quick to find a middle ground. He succeeded in evoking the nostalgia of the rich heritage of Calcutta by employing Hindustani classical music or Rabindra Sangeet as background score, and by setting the film narrative in the decorated interiors of old mansions of colonial or pre-colonial Calcutta. Under the garb of such nostalgic elements, he lured the bhadralok audience to the cinema theatre and presented his queer film aesthetic in a way that would suit their sensibility. This subterfuge of relatability helped Ghosh naturalise the themes of same-sex desires and the experiences of queer people of his later films. 

In a similar vein, in queer-centric films that Ghosh made, influenced or took part in, such as Arekti Prem er Golpo (2010), Memories in March (2010) and Chitrangada: The Crowning Wish (2012), he freely accessed indigenous cultural resources to validate their contents. He delved into Bengal’s religious myths and cultural artefacts to perform alternative readings that not only helped historicise homosexual and other queer desires, but also helped normalise their struggles in the eyes of the cinemagoers. 

Arekti Prem er Golpo: Androgyny and the Figure of Chaitanya Arekti Prem er Golpo (Just Another Love Story) is a film that Ghosh heavily influenced, although he did not direct it. The director, Koushik Ganguly, later confessed that Ghosh was rather stubborn about playing the role of the queer protagonist after his own image, instead of indulging the director’s idea. The film narrates the story of Abhiroop (played by Ghosh), an effeminate, homosexual filmmaker who is in the process of making a documentary film about Chapal Bhaduri, a Bengali jatra (popular folk theatre form of Bengal) actor who performed the roles of women on stage for 40 years. In the 1960s, Chapal Rani, as Bhaduri was known, was allegedly the highest paid ‘actress’ of Bengali jatra. The reference to the figure of Chapal Bhaduri in Arekti Prem er Golpo and his experiences as a performance artist, who constantly straddled male and female roles, supports the idea that gender is performative rather than biological. Abhiroop’s character is a modern-day parallel of Chapal’s. He loves a man but loses him when his lover’s wife becomes pregnant; the possibility of a child born out of a socially accepted heterosexual relationship, thus, obstructs the queer characters’ path to fulfilment. Abhiroop’s fate mirrors Chapal Bhaduri’s career as a female impersonator on stage, which came to an end when biologically female actors finally shattered the shackles of patriarchal restrictions and found their rightful place on stage. It restored the heteronormative standards where only a biologically female actor could play the part of a woman, and a biologically male actor could assume the role of a man. Bhaduri was no longer required to switch between gender binaries; while women emerged in the public space of the stage, the gender-queer actor was made to fade away. 

The marginalisation that the gender nonconforming identities have to suffer echoes through the film, but there is also an assertion of the legitimacy of the ‘other’ gender beyond the male/female binary. The following conversation between Chapal and Abhiroop reflects this in the most effective way: 

Abhiroop: Do you really see yourself as a woman, Chapal-da?

Chapal: Oh my! If I thought I was a man, there would not be any problem.

Abhiroop: I think women are one category, men are another, and we are a third category.

The reference to Sri Chaitanya, founder of the Gaudiya Vaishnava sect, also brings to the fore the celebration of androgynous identities and queer desires. Abhiroop, at one point, shaves his head to acquire a sort of ‘genderless’ look and narrates the story of Sri Chaitanya, whom he considers to be an icon of native cultural androgyny; Sri Chaitanya embodied both Radha and Krishna and preached Radha bhava (emotion)where the worshipper is in passionate love with Krishna. Ghosh’s films are also noted for their recurrent use of Vaishnava padavali (a lyric poetry tradition of verses narrating the erotic love play of Radha and Krishna). 

Memories in March: Same-sex Desire and Brajabuli Lyrics  Memories in March, written by Ghosh himself, and directed by Sanjay Nag, has a song written in Brajabuli language (an artificial language created by the fourteenth-century poet Vidyapati to write about the love of Radha and Krishna) by Ghosh which captures the eternal longing of the virahini (estranged lover) to be one with her love. The song, bahumanaratha saju abhisarey pahenu suneel bes (In the hope of meeting my lover, I put on a blue dress), speaks of Radha’s hope and anxiety about the possibility of meeting Krishna after a long separation.[2] The song plays in the background of scenes focussing on the sudden demise of Sidhharth, the lover of Ornab (played by Ghosh), in a car accident. 

The use of this Brajabuli song in describing the love, longing and tragic end of a homosexual relationship accentuates the idea that same-sex desires transcend superficial physical attraction and have emotional and spiritual vitality like any romantic relationship. Ornab’s agony at the passing away of Siddharth is naturalised in the bhadralok eye by equating it with Radha’s agony at her separation from Krishna. Even in the film Raincoat (2004), there are Brajabuli songs narrating an illicit affair between a married woman and her childhood lover. These songs substantiate the queer aesthetic of Ghosh who bridges the gap between the legends of the illicit love affair of Radha-Krishna with the modern love affairs that function outside societal norms. 

The language of the songs that establish the mood of Ghosh’s films is significant as well. According to Professor Bakshi, the use of songs written in Brajabuli language itself is symbolic[3] because Brajabuli is a language that does not have any geographical or cultural boundary; it is a language that borrows vocabulary from several other Indian languages. No language is, therefore, more suitable to carry the emotional gravity of the lived reality of people who do not fall under gender binaries. 

Chitrangada: Gender Fluidity and Indigenous Myth  Chitrangada: The Crowning Wish is a film that Ghosh wrote, directed and acted in. It draws inspiration from the legend of Princess Chitrangada whose father raised her as a boy but who wished to become a woman after falling in love with Arjuna. The film revolves around Rudra who meets Partho while rehearsing for a dance drama based on Tagore’s play Chitrangada (1892), falls in love with him and goes through a sex reassignment surgery to be able to bear a child. The story has conspicuous similarities with the Chitrangada myth. It validates the existence of deviant desires and identities from time immemorial, and invalidates the idea that these are the by-products of Western influence and modernity. 

Ghosh’s engagement with the alternative readings of native resources not only queered the language of Indian cinema but also helped the Indian queer demography in locating itself in the indigenous culture of the land. His films and his presence in media as an openly queer individual gave the LGBTQ+ community of Bengal, and India at large, a voice. However, he has faced some criticism from the LGBTQ+ community for the glaring absence of the queer subculture, such as the drag culture and kotha-hijra(transgender communities)tradition of India in his cinema.[4] All the queer characters of his films are English educated, from urban spaces and financially affluent. This helped him naturalise queer identities in the bhadralok eye but weakened his films in terms of queer visibility, the politics of representing and bringing to the fore a heterogeneous cluster of queer figures in popular media.

Just gonna share my sitaramam edit on here as well 💕

Tagging ppl based on who replied to/liked my earlier sitaramam post :

@eenadu-varthalu @gauri-vishalakshi @myheartonthemove @booksmartheart @voidsteffy @sinistergooseberries @yehsahihai @dumdaradumdaradum @ms-potato @fangirl-bookaholic @saltyhumanoidbailiffshoe @infinitesubconscious @mango-mastani @maidenofmidguard

Chelsea Blecha on Instagram

Tale As Old As Time... (Part 2)

Well, the reaction to the first part was … overwhelming. Which is good because my brain has taken this idea and hurtled at maximum speed. I am hanging on for dear life. I hope I survive the experience. And I hope none of you decide to jump ship, though I understand if you do. 😅

Here is Chapter 2 of God only knows how many, it is more than 4. I can assure you of that. You know that one gif of the cartoon laying the tracks in front of it as the train is going full speed? That’s what this story is going to be. Please excuse any bumps that may be present.

This chapter is more… tone setting? It might be boring compared to the first part, but I promise you chapter 3 will make up for it. (I hope). Here we go!

(Part 1)

///

Where were we? Oh Right. The story is just starting isn’t it. I think it is time I take a backseat and let the story play out.

Jai let Bhairava say goodbye to the princess. Mithravinda begged Bhairava to do something, to plan a way out of this, he cannot possibly be thinking of just letting that monster to whatever he wanted to him.

Bhairava did not tell her he didn’t think he could put up a fight anyways. He could feel those eyes. Could feel their heat on the back of his neck. He was sure his wolf was watching him.

Bhairava gave Mithravinda a kiss on the forehead, even feeling that was too indecorous. His teeth chattered as a cold breeze cut through him. Though this kingdom lay so close to Udaigarh, the atmosphere was much more cold. He shivered as the wind tore through his simple cotton shirt and pyjamas.

He bowed to Sher Khan’s nephew as the man came into view on the other side of the gate. He has only heard of the man. Knew he is a good man. Not like Ranadev. He would care for Mithravinda. And he prayed the princess would return his affections. She deserved to be happy. Even if his own future was so uncertain right now.

He wiped Mithravinda’s tears away and placed her hand in her rightful groom’s. It ached, but the pain was not nearly as sharp as before. And despite them being at least a couple kilometers away from the palace, Bhairava would swear he could feel the burning gaze still.

Keep reading

Heyyy!! I want to tell you that YOU ARE LITERALLY SO TALENTED!??! ALL THE DOODLES ARE SOO PRETTY AND CUTE 😭😭😭I WILL LITERALLY CRYY. LIKE LITERALLY THE BEST CONTRIBUTION TO THE FANDOM EVER✨ I BOW TO YOU FOR MY LORD THY HAVE GRACED US WITH THIS ART✨

also do you think you can make a doodle of both our Bois winking at camera in 'naatu naatu'?? I can send you the picture if you're interested. No pressure tho.

WAHHHHHH WAHHH thank you so much 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️!!!!

and yes ofc here ya go:

I could talk for hours about the finale of Black Sails, but especially how masterful of a choice it was to have Jack narrate the final episode. I love him, and this is such a beautifully fitting end to his story. Someone once said that Black Sails is a show where no one gets what they want. That the man who has spent his whole life obsessed with making a name for himself — to the point that he risks his chance at wealth and freedom and life to keep that name —, is now telling the story of someone else, a story in which his part is hardly mentioned it at all, is a just the last in a near-endless line of amazing narrative choices.

And what’s perhaps the most interesting is he very well could have altered the tale. He says aloud something Silver and Flint have seemingly always known: it doesn’t matter whether the story is true when it’s told, it only matters if people believe it. It would have been easy to insert himself into a grander role in that story. To paint himself as a key player in the final events that went down on the island. In the fate of the Urca gold. (And given that he was technically the one who recovered it, it wouldn’t be unwarranted.) But he doesn’t.

He’s always been one of my favorite characters. Jack the schemer. Jack the clever fool. Jack who doesn’t know when to quit. Jack who is so unflinchingly loyal, despite the lies and schemes that surround him. Jack who cannot let things go. Jack who was told that he would never sail under the black again and is now the only one still doing it. Jack who loves art. Who appreciates its power. (“Fine art has felled empires.”) Of COURSE he would be the one to close out this story. When you look at it, despite the irony, there really never was any other option of who would tell this story. And that’s one of the most beautiful things about Black Sails. How despite being able to trace each and every choice that led the characters to their final fates, despite the twists and turns and surprises, somehow, at the end of it all, it all feels inevitable. Like any true tragedy should. In a good way. Like everyone is ending up exactly where they belong, for better or worse.

As a request, can you draw Ram, Bheem, and the gang vibing chaotically hard to the RRR soundtrack, please?

yes ofc!!

Guess who is in middle of a lecture but decided to write this here ::

So I've been thinking about doing a case study for Bheem like I did for Ram but then I realised it's not the same.

I can't ask the same questions, actually I'm not even sure of what questions I can put up.

Have you watched Korean movies or dramas? If yes then you must have noticed how well formed, rounded and individual there characters are.

Bheem is the same.

He's a well formed human. That's the highest compliment for not just characters but for real people as well.

He's confident in his talents, he's secure about his upbringing and values. He doesn't allow negativity to overwhelm him.

Unlike us unhinged idiots, he stays in control of his state of being.

I think the only time I saw a shred of hate was when Ram suggested that he be hung infront of Malli.

Even that could be seen as self loathing because he trusted Ram and couldn't understand how he was so wrong. Well maybe not but allow me to indulge okay?

I was thinking and couldn't come up with single response to who he'd be without Ram.

Probably same as he was.

Isn't that beautiful? Bheem stayed true to his essence throughout.

As much fun it was to watch Ram become free in bheem's presence, it was very peaceful to see how Bheem virtually didn't need another person to make him better.

Without Ram, Bheem would still be Bheem- soft, caring, intelligent and a free spirit. I almost thought Ram gave Bheem the impulse to comeup with self sabotaging plans but then i remembered that our guy was collecting wild animals much before the epic meet.

Then i laughed. Cried a bit too, I'll tell you why-

Without Ram, Bheem would be same. Ram didn't contribute to character development. The only thing Bheem gained out of this friendship was love.

Bheem would still be a loving person but Ram showed him love.

I can never undermine this. I have personally craved for a connection as pure and strong as theirs.

The secure bond they had was Ram's little contribution to Bheem's life and nothing can be more precious than that.

Brb gotta wipe these treacherous tears.