As a child, every single year, I spent a month of my summer vacation with my grandparents in Bombay. Among my many memories, their stories and experiences of the freedom struggle were some of the most precious ones. I loved listening to them over and over again, with the same amount of excitement and admiration. Looking back, however, these stories evoke more than just the childlike sentiment of glee. They turned out to be valuable lessons in compassion, perseverence, and simplicity.
My maternal grandmother, Labhu ben, was imprisoned during the freedom movement, as was my grandfather, Mohanlal Mehta. It was 1930, and Motaba, my grandmother was only 15. She was arrested and put in Sabarmati Jail.
It should begin with an ultimate question: What is art? How Andrei Tarkovsky, an auteur, primarily known for the slow rhythmic shots