A write-up by Priyanka Borpujari after watching the Laya Project at the screening organized by The Root in association with Mocha Film Club. Scroll down to see the trailer.
I wondered why wasn’t there much info about the ‘Laya Project’ on its website. Within 5 minutes into the film, I had goosebumps. But then I was skeptical – perhaps it could have been the drench from the unexpected rains or the full blast of the air-conditioner. But few minutes later, I saw my whole body responding – I was swaying, my mouth was left wide open, I was smiling, I was happy to be there at that very moment.
In Hindi, the word “lay” translates into something very fluid and rhythmic.
The journey of an hour into this film took me to various places which made me remember of that One Supreme Being, whom we remember only when calamity or tragedy strikes. And indeed, the fury of the Tsunami of 2004 that ravaged the shores of the Indian Sub-continent had the men, women and children from there remembering their old prayers. And aren’t prayers calls to the Mother Nature, requesting her to forever embrace us in Her love? Didn’t the best prayers come from those who had never cut the umbilical cord from this Mother? The best poetry is found there, between the toes of the farmer who treads his bulls to plough his slushy fields, in the transparent drops of sweat kissing the sinewy arms of the men pulling the boats to the seas.
Work is worship. Worship is music.
‘Laya Project’ is this prayer, this salutation to work, to life – which goes on. Just few days ago, I saw someone thinking aloud about the debate of life after death, “when we often forget to live when still alive”. The laya (rhythm, embrace, love, pause) of the people of India, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Maldives, Myanmar and Indonesia (as featured in this film) proved to me that there was life after death indeed. The resilience of the people have made them sit up and work again, to rebuild their homes, relationships, music from scratch. They preserved what could be preserved along the way… like the man who was so happy to see his wife clinging precariously with the lunch box for him in one of her hands, just after the huge blinding tsunami wave hit the world. “I was so happy to see her screaming for help… it means she was still alive!” Love, like life, has to be preserved. And the tsunami taught them to preserve precious life and everything that makes it so worth living.
There was beauty in the imperfections, and we saw it all in the film. There were no subtitles to interfere with the flow of the music. Oneness with the world was what was thus achieved seamlessly. And the mundane was thus cherished – the woman washing her hands, the child running after a tyre, the farmer with the bulls, the man checking for fish in the net…
And the once-ravaged South East Asian coasts were like raw uncut diamonds, as seen under the cinematographer’s lens. Every frame was a slice of poetry. Every piece of mundane action was rhythmic movement. Every voice which would have been a mere murmur while doing the dishes or setting out the net onto the embracing sea reflected deep pain and unfathomable hope. But here they all were – in perfect sync with the advancement of technology which, for a change, seems like a boon.
So here is an experience that I cannot streamline into words. But now that I have come down after floating somewhere I do not know, but was so happy and felt my heart and soul expand, I just know what I learnt from this ‘film’: this is a masterpiece if you want to learn what slick sound is, what smart editing, what poetic cinematography is, what picking up the best idea for a film is. And then there are the wordless emotions that came gushing in….
This film is about the survival and celebration of the human spirit, and when in exhalation, it can uplift other spirits too. This experience prove to me many of my life’s epiphanies. Like, all the good things in life are pure and free. Like, life is about embracing and continuing to love; about being One with the greens and reds and blues and browns and colourless life forms. All of whom are different than us human beings, and yet breathe and feel like you and me.
I have always believed life to be like water – it depends on you what you want to make of life, just like water takes the shape of the container it is poured into. When water is heated beyond its boiling point, it loses it form. It is ‘lost’ in the air. How often have we led a frivolous way of life, and then one day woken up to feel so lost?
And then the process of water being cooled…. We might sometimes turn into an immovable shell when we lack the warmth of life, when we feel stuck, when we choose to hibernate. And then, when we can take it no more, we break free…. They say, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’. Water cooled and frozen finally expands below -4 degree Celsius. It is then known to break open sturdy pipes, just because it has to flow out. Water molecules can take that lack of warmth no more.
How often have we kept silent for way too long, waiting and hoping for life to change, and then finally we break all the chains?
Earth. Oceans. Atmosphere. They have been here long before and will continue to be so long after us. They feel all like we do in our tiny lives. ‘Laya’ just showed me that there is rhythm everywhere, and a little hiccup can take squish the life out of us. But then again, we pick the grains again from the chaff. Thank you to this project for making me a more embracing person, and for getting me to realise to enjoy the untimely rains in this ‘mad’ city of Mumbai – with a rhythm of its own.
