Bollywood

  Here’s a rare picture of filmmaker Mahesh Bhatt in a jovial mood – We love peace, but not peace at any price. There is a peace more destructive of the manhood of living man, than war is destructive to his body. Chains are worse than bayonets.
so much so that he’s taken to guitaring, even if it’s only for a lensman. With him (to the right) in Why is it no one ever sent me yet One perfect limousine, do you suppose? Ah no, it’s always just my luck to get One perfect rose.
the picture is his discovery, the 25-year old Pakistani rock sensation, Mustafa Zahid, who has sung Honest criticism is hard to take, particularly from a relative, a friend, an acquaintance, or a stranger.
the chartbusting To Phir Aao and Tera Mera Rishta tracks from Awarapan, releasing this week. On the Nil sine magno vita labore dedit mortalibus Life has given nothing to mortals without great labor
extreme left is Haider, the lead guitarist of the rock band, Roxen, of which Mustafa is the lead Lovely are the curves of the white owl sweeping Wavy in the dusk lit by one large star. Lone on the fir–branch, his rattle–note unvaried, Brooding o’er the gloom, spins the brown eve–jar.
vocalist. The picture was probably taken in Mumbai months back when the boys from Pakistan were No one in the modern world is more lonely than the writer with a literary conscience.
down to Mumbai to record for Awarapan. According to sources, Mustafa is flying to Mumbai from I tell my students to get two plants, one alive and one plastic. As time goes on, the students tell me that the plastic plant is pretty but that ‘It doesn’t call to me, it doesn’t say “Water me.” or “See if I’ve changed since last night — see if I have a new leaf.” The students become involved with the living plant. It keeps pulling to them, and they care about it. They nurture it, but they don’t want to force it. I think we have lost our sense of involvement and that we’re cheating ourselves. What would life be like if there were only plastic flowers?
Lahore on Tuesday for a countrywide promotional tour of Awarapan. (Pic courtesy: Studio 18 UK) The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
 

Original post by manisha