![]() ![]() It took a novel’s worth of unread texts, unacknowledged declarations, and unrequited adoration to understand that no good can come from a love affair born of trickery, misdirection, and legerdemain. I wasn’t uninterested in romance, and my heart was elsewhere: I prioritized absorbing Vigo’s talents through osmosis over pining for some teenager with a patchy beard. Despite a year and change of weekly L’Atalante home viewings, this tale of courtly love always took a backseat. L’Atalante most likely landed on my radar by way of a dollar-bin DVD-plucked by my roving eye like its heroine, Juliette, from the hinterlands of a video store or record shop. For young people, the early death of a great artist holds a particular sway. The tragedy of his too-short career adds a melancholy tint to his elegiac style, elevating what could have been a familiar love story into something wildly radical. His third film-after À propos de Nice and Zero de conduite -and sole feature was completed after his untimely death from tuberculosis. The newfound excitement and precariousness at the heart of every newly minted union is poetically and economically depicted in Jean Vigo’s 1934 L’Atalante. Where the function of a status marriage was nakedly clear-an heir and a spare-the romantic union remains still uncharted territory. ![]() To freely choose one’s lifelong partner is a recent freedom, a liberty that brings with it a new kind of propriety. The concept of “companionate marriage” is still novel. If you’re lucky, the brief and blissful prologue of a “honeymoon phase” goes on forever, but even that inevitable dimming retains the sustenance of persistent affection. Glances sly and adoring, flickering candlelight and strewn petals, the promise of undying happiness that only true love can provide: such are the fantasies of every young romantic, the rich loam from which a thousand lines of yearning paeans might bloom. He then realizes it that though many years have rolled by, still the power of that little red line binds the two lives together, and the old bond and love still remains unchanged.“There can be no disparity in marriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose.” -Charles Dickens, David Copperfield Instead of thinking about the future, he tries to live the present to its fullest, absorbing the joy from every passing moment. He watches his wife applies the line of vermilion on her forehead after the punctual morning bath the old man heaves a sigh of relief. This man’s only worry in life is what will happen to his beloved wife when he is gone! Will he then be able to protect her from the world beyond? With these thoughts, his dark night finally gives way to dawn, a new light, a new hope. His wife still passes her day with the household duties, managing everything like Goddess Dashavuja ( the Goddess with ten hands), and he keeps seeing her in work! His only human companion is none other than his life partner. With nothing much to do, this man feeds on his past memories. Bound within the four walls of his little house is his entire world. The peaceful coexistence of the craft-works and the commonplace things is bliss to him amidst his ill-fate, a means by which he has overcome his depression. The room of this artist is the answer, its beholds his creative mind, the framed sketches and paper-crafts. But still he lives his remaining ¼ th part of life with full enthusiasm. ![]() But what was his fate? Today, he is alone, forgotten by his past contemporaries. In his early days, he was revered by all for he was a kind and virtuous person. He has struggled to find a settlement in India, he has struggled to feed his family, and he has struggled to have a good career. This old man had also had a similar life, full of struggle. But the one who can overcome all these adversities is considered as the ultimate winner. Life is always hard, full of adversities. This man, an expert artist, is a refugee from Bangladesh, and came to India during the 1069s. Here, I am going to explore one such instance where love and creativity provides happiness to an individual, a man of great taste. Even a sad and melancholy man can seek happiness by reliving his great memories. So how does one know if they have it? To me, happiness is just another thought process. But happiness, like air or water, is a hard thing to grasp in one’s hand. They want to have happiness, and lots of it. Yet, above everything else in the world, it is what people seek. Happiness: It is not measurable, profitable, nor tradable. ![]()
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