Blue Diamond … many an interesting stay has been solemnized in these parts and old memories of visits for shoots and functions come streaming back. Not much has changed in and around the Hotel from the day it was constructed, except for a few cosmetic alterations, which is nice. And after a quick settle in we are back on the road to make an appearance in a Pune theatre screening ‘Vihir’ our Marathi film, just released.

The full house has just had the interval and I am surprised to see its conditioned occupancy, considering its a regional film. But we accept and delight over the response and after a few minutes with the audience still in awe and gratitude, leave for a rest before the Literary Festival.

The Festival is large … around 50,000 people all seated under a decorative canopy waiting for the procedures to begin. It is phenomenal to watch this large crowd of people showing respect and honor for the languages and for its literary heritage. Pune is and has been the cultural capital of this State and its literature and language a major player in forming its status.

Distinguished scholars and men of letters seat themselves within our formatted evening and after some welcome addresses push the mike on to me for the rest of the celebration.

There is huge appreciation for the rendition of a limited number of poems and soon it is over and we are back to our respective rooms. There is recitation of few Marathi poems or rather stanzas of them by me, and before long it is over. The crowds managed with discipline and culture as I prepare for another recital at a housing colony tomorrow and then on to Symbiosis, the institution that manages students desirous of making it big in the field of entertainment or any where. And then home !!

And as I sit in my room after the days acts, I study the media coverage on the electronic and am alarmed at how they cut paste my Father’s recitation to suit the drift of a story they may be designing.

Scant respect for the decorated and most invaluable works of literature, only because there is no knowledge of what my Father’s works mean or a deep anguish against them as they begin to exploit the moment for their commercial gain. The culture respect and order that literature so deserves, gone ‘to fetch oil’.

It is my opinion that there should be a law to protect literary content and not allow its exploitation or corruption. But who would listen or even consider its excessively important message.

The beginnings of the ‘doze’ creep in. I find myself punching names and words which have no connect or meaning whatsoever with what I am writing. It is time to close the ’shut down’ button and allow this screen to turn blue and disappear.

Good night my lovelies and my lovelaas …