Saturday, 16 July 2011
Unaware of the magical properties of the stone, Paresh Dutta hands over his find to the neighbourhood Poltu, a little boy who is the owner of Paresh and his wife's affections in the absence of a child of their own. Ray sheds light on the warmth of Paresh as he playfully tells Poltu that he has got a bomb for him. Little does he know that this missile will actually bring forth explosive situations...
At this juncture, Paresh starts planning. he visits an industrial dump-yard from where he carries home two mutiny balls. Paresh is satisfied that for the time being his needs will be met with. Happily he doses off and dreams about the world honouring him for his riches (there goes Ray again with his sharp commentary on how the world venerates people as long as the bucks are on them. The moment they become penniless they are non-entities). This scene is too funny. At one point Paresh is the carbon copy of Netaji, at another he is some statue on Queen's Way. We realise that Paresh too wants his slice of name, fame and popularity.
Even though Parash Pathar may appear a harmless comic satire on society's behaviour in particular and human vices in general, there is much more meat to it. In the party scene, Ray uncovers the shallowness of society butterflies, the incessant desire of a man to be accepted as one of the high flying birds and his returning to his unpolished roots under the influence of alcohol. It's sad how when Paresh is inebriated, the veneer of wealth scratches off to reveal his more raw side. Though you'd laugh at Tulsi Chakraborty's expressions, voice modulation and body language, you'd ultimately marvel at the dexterity of his act.
In the next scene when his wife lifts the curtains from his hollow act, he is too stunned to react. He sits there like a statue horrifically stupefied at the utter absurdity of his own deeds and the situation. His strategies now should mend matters before the jackals come hounding.