Film Review: 96 (2018)

K. Ramachandran and Janaki Devi, two adolescents profoundly in love with each other, meet again after a long span of 20 years. 96 (2018) is a Tamil romantic film of these two friends who pass one evening together reliving their memories, reminiscing of the past and trying to understand why things possibly didn’t work out for them. Set in the adolescence and early youth of the protagonists, the first part of the film talks about a suppressed love of Ram for Jaanu – a feeling and an un-expressed desire left to bleed alone. Although the second part mostly covers the evening spent together (the present), it also shows the past as potential but unfulfilled moments of change in life for the two. We wonder if the two lovers will now unite again against the flow of their respective lives set apart by their choices in the past and the current circumstances. This is what the film tries to find a solution to. However, owing to the expected solution the film points to, it is unable to make an impact beyond the screening time.

Ram’s Inhibitions - The film starts with Ram as an accomplished photographer, passionately exploring different geographies – deserts, oceans, sea beaches, etc. and he seems to be completely immersed in his photography - at times, living in the wild and at times, training students in his art. After being distanced from his childhood beloved, Ram has invested himself in photography and (t)his art seems to have become a means of forgetting her. Photographer as a career choice goes well with this character that we discover as extremely introvert and emotional when it comes to his love, Jaanu, his school friend. The first part shows the lighter moments of the film so as to underline the strong feelings between the two. Completely enamoured, Ram misses Jaanu sorely and his world seems empty when she is absent from school. Unlike stories where love is unrequited, here, we have two adolescents who know they love each other. The thorny part of the affair is Ram’s lack of will and his lack of courage to express his feelings. Ram’s inhibitions vis-à-vis Jaanu form the crucial point and remain a constant throughout the film. This is brought to light through two incidents, both repeated in the second half. In the first incident, Jaanu is seen standing in front of the class. She is a good singer and it appears that Jaanu is willing to sing a song of Ram’s choice provided he communicates the same to her, which doesn’t happen (in either of the parts). As the timid Ram doesn’t take the required initiative, Jaanu then sings a song than the one in Ram’s mind. In yet another scene, Ram’s timidity is exemplified when Jaanu touches him and unable to bear her proximity, he falls unconscious. Even after twenty years, he is unable to master his feelings for her and becomes breathless on Jaanu’s touch. Thus, Ram’s inhibition vis-à-vis his beloved remains unchanged despite so many years.   

The bold Jaanu - Ram’s inhibition is cast in opposition to Jaanu’s overt expressions of love and the two are completely different in terms of their handling of emotions. If Ram’s inhibitions haunt him (and Jaanu too!) forever, Jaanu’s character is a welcome mix of boldness and love for Ram. There was something good and interesting about this character. Unlike the usual girl characters, Jaanu is different – self conscious, affectionate, caring, bold but obscene. She wants to acknowledge her love for Ram and is waiting for him to express his feelings. The choice to sing a different song acts as a deliberate provocation at the hands of Jaanu and in a way, mocks at Ram’s inhibitions. She is unperturbed by the societal gaze and doesn’t shy away from looking at Ram, touching his chest or (in the second half) from spending a complete evening alone with him in his house. Moreover, she commits certain acts of transgression that I found worth taking note of.

The first act of transgression happens over the bridge before the onset of vacations. As Jaanu and Ram approach the bridge, Jaanu is supposed to continue along the road while Ram has to cross the bridge to reach his house. Jaanu unexpectedly decides to continue along with Ram and stops at midpoint of the bridge where she spills ink over Ram’s shirt. Bridge as a unifying element of two sides opens the possibility of creating new destinations for paths not destined to meet. This is therefore an interesting scene given its location – the bridge used as a symbol of crossing or transgression. Then, the act of spilling ink is symbolic of Jaanu’s intent of doing an act otherwise reserved for boys. Such a sexual transgression is welcome as it changes our ways of perception about acts deemed ‘masculine/feminine’. Some other transgressions, although not as strong, occur in the second part of the film. For example: Jaanu is shown wearing Ram’s clothes, something that symbolically helps her feel Ram intimately. She is keen to touch Ram’s hand as shown in the scene where she deliberately puts her hand on gears while Ram is in the driver’s seat or in the metro. All these incidents reveal that Jaanu is ready to go beyond her set borders and reach out for Ram. She anticipates the same from Ram but is kept waiting in the first part. And what happens in the second constitutes the climax.  

Realist or not?  

a) After the film, some of my friends (Balaji, Pushan) felt that the film’s climax was very realist in its portrayal of Ram and Jaanu. Jaanu is still the same. She is bold, affectionate towards her friends, a good singer, etc. Importantly, as a married woman now, she bears the weight of the promise of love and fidelity towards her husband. As a friend suggested, as a ‘good’ Indian wife, she is expected to follow our traditions and maintain the sacrosanctity of marriage. Similarly, Ram has barely changed. He has always been very emotional about Jaanu. A world with any other than Jaanu is beyond him. An evening without electricity in Jaanu’s company can make him ill at ease or just her touch can make him breathless. A sexual friction with Jaanu hence remains unconceivable in his scheme of things. Love (Jaanu) for Ram is ‘purity incarnated’ and any physical contact is akin to breaching that trust of love. Given Ram’s sacrosanct notion of love and Jaanu’s personal disposition, it is but logical and realist that the two lovers bid goodbye without consensual sex and without any effort to change their life paths. According to this point of view, the relationship remains as it was, in fact; it becomes clearly an impossible relationship (all things remaining constant). This point of view is indicated by the title of the film. At the surface level, ‘96’ indicates the reunion of pass-out students of the year 1996. However, at a deeper level, it represents an incomplete (sexual) union of Ram and Jaanu. If 69 is a number laden with sexual connotations, 96 is its inverse - the two characters need to be seen as two digits that will never walk along the same path together, or even if they were to be together, it wouldn’t be a fulfilling union, there will be something amiss. Incompleteness will be the permanent characteristic of their relationship.

b) A few others (Deva, Naveen) were of the opinion that the film wasn’t realist enough in its climax. The argument was the two like each other’s company despite their circumstances. They happily eat a meal together, take a metro or train in each other’s company, spend one complete evening away from their friends gaze. Their togetherness is genuine and reciprocal. Despite their strong feelings for each other, how was it possible for them to abstain from a physical union? From 1996 to 2016, Tamil society and in general, the sections of the society the lovers come from, have certainly changed. Especially with the characters growing old and given their attraction for each other; it would be a huge disappointment to witness a continuation of sexually barren relationship. Like the other climax, a sexually gratified union seems an equally logical climax either to close the relationship or to keep it going at a different level.  

The two scenarios of climax - as a) an impossible relationship and as b) an open ended but a sexually gratified relationship – both have solid arguments in their respective favours and each can claim to be true. While one could always ask what realism means, if it can be compared and to what extent does the film’s climax goes closer to ‘real’, ‘more-real-than-the-other’s realism’ is a position both the sides can have recourse to and it is therefore very difficult to side with one particular climax. So, I propose to resolve this issue in the following way and my judgement goes in favour of b). If there are multiple solutions provided by realism and all being equally convincing, we need to resort to the role of Art (cinéma) as a medium of change.

In many Indian films (Tamil or otherwise) and in the typical Indian middle class cultural ethos, the feminine becomes the seat of emotions and women/girls are shown to be shy, decent, and modest. Women/girls are custodians of traditions, culture and are therefore expected to be pure. Any stain to their purity or to their ‘pure’ bodies incurs wrath of the dominant sex (male) and leads to a disastrous world. Our films have taught our girls to discipline themselves and have conditioned them to behave/act as per accepted norms. Baring certain films daring to portray scandalous and provocative characters, a considerable number of our films have shown, time and again, the shyness, docility and tolerance of female characters, whether it be serving their husbands/fathers/brothers or in their ‘good’ behaviours in school/college or in their suppressed sexual behaviours. The desperate need for transgression and a sexual one at that hints at the skewed relations between sexes and the transgression becomes an act of personal politics and liberation. What we therefore need in Indian society are uninhibited female characters like Jaanu willing to transgress. While being a reflection of our society, cinema can create such real-life like characters. It can also imagine different stories, different societies and pave a way for different trajectories, alternative destinations for our future.   

Just as much as we need more Jaanu in our society, in this context, we also need emotional, lonely, male characters like Ram. He has healthy relationship with his other female friends and his students. He gets along well with the gateman of his school. He carefully keeps all belongings associated with his love. However, let us also be aware that individuals like Ram can be quite tricky at times. Ram’s character can fall in the trap of being too puritanical that considers love in the form of biblical guilt. While Ram’s loneliness in the film is welcome, I feel the continuous upholding of love as a sacred/pure object could have undesirable consequences in our male dominated society. A consequence of such passionate love for instance could be to treat the object of his love as his sole property, an exclusive right. Unlike Ram, Jaanu has been bold enough to cross certain barriers. Her part of transgression is mostly commendable baring one – the physical union. Some may argue that a complete union doesn’t necessarily always require a sexual union and a platonic relationship can be as gratifying as any other. Moreover, a physical union with Ram may perhaps be unimaginable realistically. However, such an act could have suggested a creative end (or opening) of a complete, willed transgression.

Film Review Andhadhun (2018) – Blindness and the need of a different vision

Lot of reviews of the recently released Andhadhun (2018) have covered the brilliant performances of the actors, small or otherwise, the wonderful editing by Pooja Ladha Surti, other finer aspects of the film like Trivedi’s music, references to actors of yesteryears (Anil Dhawan) and inter-textual links with other great directors like Hitchcock and Nicolas Winding Refn. There was however one aspect missing from the reviews and would like to highlight it here.

The couple of scenes where the post murder incident unfolds before Akash’s eyes were at same time, a sheer delight and compelling, thought provoking. As Akash is supposedly blind, he is witness to the raw brutality with which Simi and Manohar (her lover) treat her husband’s (Pramod Sinha) body while Akash continues to play wonderful pieces on piano. This contrast - of music and the sequence of events following the murder is very telling of our political realities. It is as if to say that blatant injustices and flagrant crimes are committed routinely, normally, with utmost ease and absence of guilt. We are strangely passive to such atrocities because our visions are betraying us; our present visions at times present us blurred worlds and more than often, we choose to close ourselves from seeing undesirable things that happen routinely, even in broad day light. Therefore, in some way, a certain kind of blindness wouldn’t hurt us. It is as if blindness is needed for it gives an insight of things not visible to a normal eye. Blindness awakens some other perceptions – be it of sound and smell and we probably need a different awakening, may be of other senses to grasp the rot of our society. May be, what we need today in Indian society is not just an awareness or a state of consciousness created by what is seen/visible to the naked eye, but instead, a state of being that is created by other heightened perceptions, by a ‘blinded’ vision.

Interestingly, unethical acts can be construed to have become a necessity given the pointlessness of ethical actions. Akash would never get an opportunity to witness the aftermath of the murder, had he been true to himself i.e. had he not played to be a blind musician. It is precisely thanks to his ‘fake’ blindness that he can access a world unknown/unseen to others – a world where everyone is greedy and morally corrupt, that he can see the perpetrators in different light, in action. Blindness thus becomes a tool of probity. However, there lies a catch in such a situation – why and importantly how to prove you are a witness to a wrong when you are yourself in a situation resulting from an unethical act? And I think this need to be morally upright, to be ethical was an issue the film couldn’t satisfactorily resolve.

If there was no apparent indication of a resolution to the issue of (un)ethical action, the film does suggest something quite cynical. Let’s see what happens at the end. Here, Akash is shown to have presumably fulfilled his dreams and is working in a European country. He is yet again, similar to his appearance in the first sequence, working as a blind musician. Life moves on, he was able to get new eyes (may be Simi’s eyes or by the sale of her organs). On the one hand, this suggests that despite all what Akash goes through; he is not willing to live a morally worthy life. His greed for success and desire for social mobility is as intense as ever. The urge to come clean doesn’t really concern him, it seems. On the other hand, poetic justice - for Simi’s involvement in her husband’s murder - is rendered first in the form of the absurdity of her fatal accident and then, in the form of devastated personal life for Manohar. Yet, a genuine investigation of a series of murders remains elusive. Despite the murder and the heinous disposal of the corpse, Manohar continues to roam free. Again, this is quite similar to our situation today. Criminals roam free as all the witnesses either disappear in thin air or they are themselves party to some other crimes. No one wants to clean the system as every person is rotten from the core and is unwilling to give up his personal greed. Once embroiled in a crime, it’s too difficult a choice to come clean and somehow, we are unwilling to shed our egos and accept moral responsibilities of our misdeeds. The onus therefore lies on every single person, at an individual level, to change things around him/her, even if it would mean to readily accept one’s wrongs and suffer for their redemption. It would have been interesting to see Akash framed as a murderer since he is present on both occasions of crime. Akash’s return journey towards a scrupulous life would have made a different story, the return path can always make way for a different film altogether!

 

Film Review - RAAZI (2018)

Raazi (2018), the title of the recently released Alia Bhat starer film signifies one’s acceptance to do something. It involves a kind of readiness, one’s intent to do something. Such a title Raazi, given the context the film is set in, that of cross border enmity between India and Pakistan, creates an interest of some development of line of action between the two nations at conflict or their willingness to do something constructive. Moreover, a film directed by none other than Meghana Gulzar does create expectations among viewers eager to watch something new, or watch something told in a new way. Alas, despite certain moments where there could have been an engagement with different issues at hand, the film reinforces what most other films on nation do.

The only major difference here, unlike other films, is that the narrative is centered on a female lead. Most films on Nation show how men are important to nation and their exploits, achievements and acts of bravery are often narrated, glorified to depict nationalism as uniquely and overtly men’s projects. Raazi, at the outset, bore an impression of being a different film, for a woman at the centre of a narrative on nation creates hope of giving different views on how women are at the receiving end of nationalist projects or views on how they can change the dynamics of conflicts. A woman protagonist can help a person see things from a completely different perspective and thus offer refreshing insights on going beyond our inherited conflicts. However, Raazi fails in creating any different views about how women suffer or for that matter about how their presence in nationalist struggles or in post-colonial conflicts can lead to different outcomes than the ones we are usually used to see in male-centred narratives.

The story line is of a Kashmiri girl trained to work as an operative and married deliberately to the son of a soon to become Pakistan General of the Army. Hidayat Khan, Sehmat’s father is a Kashmiri Muslim working for India and has deep networks in the Pakistani army. Committed to the national cause, even in his death, he pursues his mission for the Indian nation; he arranges his daughter to be married off in Pakistan and her task is to provide inputs from across the border to Indian army. This identity of the female protagonist as a Muslim and her commitment to Indian flag are important given the almost war-like situation developed in that state. Hidayat is an example of a Muslim from Kashmir, while supposedly working for Pakistan, is in fact an insider for India and is committed to the Indian cause. Raazi, like most other Indian films, suggests Kashmir as a part of India and tries to portray Kashmiris; (read Muslims) as Indians dying for the nation or ready to self sacrifice for the nation. One can see Muslims on either part of borders - Muslims can be Indians and so can be, Pakistanis. The film focuses on how Kashmiris and even their women folk can be as “nationalist” and avowed to “Hindustaan” and can even risk their lives for the Indian nation. This equation of Muslim (men and women) from Kashmir fighting for India helps in eluding the portrayal of the problematic nature of Kashmiri Independence. The same equation helps in showcasing Kashmir as a natural part of India and the whole film easily shows India pitted against Pakistan. By glossing over the differences existing between the three entities (India, Kashmir and Pakistan), the film maintains absolutely no regards for people from Kashmir and how they are sandwiched from either side. This leads to an erasure of the historical turmoil witnessed in Kashmir.

The film portrays events causing an adrenaline rush in the life of a female spy and the personal upheavals in her life owing to her covert mission. On being caught red–handed by a loyal servant, she has to kill him and also, eventually her brother in-law to conceal her mission. The dilemma between national duty and loyalty to one’s family remains a thorny question right from the beginning and I think the film doesn’t do enough justice and is unable to exploit the richness of this dilemma. The first shot of Sehmat in the film is her effort of saving a squirrel from being crushed. Ideally, the same genteel and sensitive girl should have been exposed to so much of emotional turmoil, stress and imbalance while killing a family member. The film certainly tried to capture this, but it could have been portrayed much more effectively. Alia’s performance was decent, although I felt the director could have thought of demanding a Kashmiri tainted accent from her or her father, Hidayat. The Urdu jubaan and Hindustani khadi boli accent could have been a distinguishing feature as the two nations consciously adopted them. When we watch this film, apart from the flags and dress codes of the soldiers, there is hardly anything distinguishing between the communities across the borders. The film could have sought to make subtle changes visible between the communities across the borders.    

What I found interesting is the position of Sehmat’s husband. Iqbal Syed, a jazz loving, thorough gentleman and an extremely sensitive husband is in love with his wife and till the end, sides with his wife despite all odds. Sehmat’s pregnancy suggests their firm bonding and her desire to have a family life despite the mission she is in charge of. Their relationship could have been a game changer and a completely transformed Sehmat could have meant a possibility of dialogue. The transformation could have suggested that there are good people on both sides. Such a depiction would have shown that Pakistan and its people are not as bad as we think them to be, that after all both the countries share a lot in terms of cultural values and ethos and the people in Kashmir are somewhat like their counterparts across the borders. The protagonist’s transformation as a pacifist would have also implied that change is possible, that circumstances and intent can bring fruitful changes for communities, that while people are products of history, they do have a sense to orient their lives towards a better future. The film does at times create a sense of well-being and values of Tehzeeb within the Pakistani family by the way the General treats his family, the way Sehmat is treated as a new member and the loyalty of servants like Abdul towards the family. However, all this happens unfortunately in the background and the foreground is filled with Sehmat’s preoccupations of her mission and her sense of national duty. The film thus reinforces that irrespective of age, sex and religion, duty to Nation is our only and our primary duty. Any act of murder or atrocity committed in favour of saving the nation is permissible and thus, legitimizes the murders at the hands of Sehmat. As said in the opening dialogue, the film indicates that men are not the only heroes of the nation, there are ‘veeranginis – the females warriors’ too. While relationships can be life changing, the potential game changer or the strongest point of the film of an enduring relationship becomes toothless and one takes away the same old adage of “national duty is our primary duty”. The same stale food/diet on nation and its conflicts with one’s neighbours as enemies is reinforced this time not by a fighting male soldier, a honest police officer or a male coach, but by a female Kashmiri (Indian) spy agent.

At the end of the film, Sehmat is pregnant and delivers a baby boy who then becomes a soldier in the Indian army. I would have loved to see a crippled child to show how the cultures of hate existing between communities across our borders impact our future generations and how they are unhealthy/handicapped right from their birth. There is one positive side to this birth though - the feeling that the child is born out of love and not rape. The fact that Sehmat decides to keep the (healthy) baby is an acceptance of love of her husband. This is an acceptance that we are humans first and nationalism shouldn’t guide our decisions. I can’t resist quoting Sahir here.

“Tu Hindu banega, na Musulman banega, insaan ki aulaad hain, insaan banega...
maalik ne har insaan ko insaan banaya, humne use hindu ya musulmaan banaya,
kudrat ne to bakhshi thi humein ek hi dharti, humne kahin bharat, kahin iran banaya...”

There resonating words crystallise what should have happened with the new born. The baby born from a Pakistani father and an Indian mother could be a symbol of our political imagination of beyond the borders. However again, unfortunately, the film fails to show such a thing. If this were really the case, the child would have become anything else but an officer. A boy born and bred in the absence of his father turns out to be so healthy that he becomes a soldier and is again ready to fight for the Indian cause! His proud allegiance to the national flag was therefore a sorry sight. Doesn’t his mom learn anything from violent experiences of her past and teach her son to be something different? A woman who loses a doting husband and dignified family members in situations of conflicts can’t possibly be so emotionless to let her son become an officer unless she is a diehard ‘nationalist’. But this is what the viewers are shown. In another situation, Sehmat could have also decided to abort her child though this act could imply her nationalist stand, that of refusal of husband’s love or it could have meant her humanist side, that of her unwillingness to raise a child in a context where there is so much violence and hate for each other. The latter position would have been welcome.

This whole episode in fact could have been simply avoided if the film had ended at the bomb explosion killing both Sehmat and her husband Iqbal, thus implying that there are casualties on both the sides of fighting nations. At this juncture, the climax of the film has a short exchange of dialogue between Sehmat and Iqbal who suggests she should kill him and commit suicide as well. Now, this double killing could have suggested an acceptance of his love. Death in such a case is embracing one’s peaceful future by cutting one’s connections with the present whose violence has gone beyond one’s control. Sehmat’s acceptance of death would mean that such covert operations are futile in the end and a suicide along with her husband would mean they live ever after in peace. But then, no... this doesn’t happen and after all, India has to win the match at whatever costs. Sehmat’s life is spared as if to validate the death of innocents to save India’s national female warrior.

One doesn’t realise but then such films also unconsciously have certain interesting implications. Iqbal’s (Sehmat’s husband) death is his sacrifice and proof of his love for his wife; his humanism becomes way stronger than his wife’s. In contrast, Sehmat’s life is saved thanks to the killing of another innocent woman. Sehmat herself can be perceived as someone short on ideals, someone trying to win the game at any cost. The only thing that matters is thus national duty and anything else has to be compromised for the same. Such a film is thus simply a disguise of a female lead executing male functions. It justifies India’s political crisis and covert warfare with Pakistan, the killing of one’s and other’s family members in the name of nation and thus, encourages the violence and politics of hate that it should have out rightly condemned. A film directed by none other than Meghana Gulzar is therefore quite a disappointment. It is like saying uncritically and without any deliberation, whatever happens to the murdering soldiers, their family members and the victims, our Indian nation is great, let’s bow down to it and to protect India from its villainous neighbours, let innocent be killed, let there be atrocities to soldiers and their families, in brief, let violence be justified and be therefore celebrated!

"No is a No" and what about your silence, Bachaanji?

Dear Bachhanji,

I wouldn’t have written this letter but for your comments... Strangely as they irked me, there was something inside me strangling to talk to you.

The recent rape incidents in Kathua and the one in Uttar Pradesh have fuelled in all of us a riot of emotions ranging from horror, disgust, depression, outrage, anger and your comment affirms that unlike many other thick skinned devils who justified the brutal rape and murder, there is a celebrity ‘dadaji’ full of sympathy and compassion. You are a celebrity, one of the biggest India has ever seen and you know well the ‘dos and donts’ of life of a celebrity; I am a nacheez to make you aware of one of the dos and of the burden of your responsibility that lies on your strong shoulders, today, in the times when violence has been normalized. People are killed for their religion, their castes, for marrying in to other communities. Crimes, rapes and other horrendous incidents are being used for political gains and for stoking communal hatred, be it of religion, ethnicities or caste. We are learning to live these incidents as if they are a part of daily life because apart from being horrified and disgusted, what else can a common man who works from 9 am to 7 pm do for such cases. Instances of unprecedented violence are far too numerous to register individually a protest against and I will not elaborate on those incidents of violence here.   

For many of us in India, and by us, I am talking particularly about the so-called middle class that I belong to, our families nurture values of sincerity, obedience, modesty, dedication towards work, taking care of one’s family and treating our neighbours and guests as one’s own family members. The general outlook of a ‘normal’ family, - which is also seen in the elite classes or their counter parts from the weaker sections of Indian society, is that politics should be kept away from our personal lives. That politics could be idealist, that it could be based on certain principles or moral values is hardly ever imagined and/or accepted. Our families perceive it as bad, only for the corrupt, always done for one’s gains and interests. Anything to do with politics is better left to ‘them’ – the politicians or the rich and the well connected. Coming from a background that has had good family connections with political parties, you are well aware of the reality that politics is something that touches our lives whether we are concerned about it or not. Unlike my mother who asks me to switch off the TV when gory images of the battered body of Ashifa are shown, for she feels that this disturbs the mental peace and the good vibes in our home, you know very well that the brutal rape and murder of an eight year old is haunting us all. Unsettling images of Ashifa have been inscribed in our memory, the chilling rape and murder has already devastated us, it has disturbed the inner peace we always felt in our family and in our homes.  

Your aura is that of a swacch, huge tide wiping clean the shores and it is at this opportune moment that you have to listen to your conscience and act accordingly. I very sincerely feel that you must use your tidal powers and this is the moment for you to act. This particular incident is unique in ways it unfolded, and is still unfolding. Rather than refraining from commenting, do seize this opportunity to speak loud and clear, (- just as you acted and emphatically said in the movie Pink, “A NO is a NO”), of what needs to be done, of a fair and fast trial assuring justice for the departed one who will never see the meadows she was so fond of. In response to a question, you said, “uss vishay ko uchhalo mat” - your comments smell of repugnance and horror, I am certain of that and it is precisely for this reason that in my opinion, you must rethink considering a stance for campaign(s) you have been endorsing till now. Sir, these times are begging you to act, else no matter how much respect, satisfaction of being a brand ambassador for campaigns or happiness you get from any action done for your nation, no matter the popularity or riches you earn, your grand children will remember you as someone who didn’t voice his opinion at a time when it needed the most.

Regards,

Yours wannabe fan