A NIGHT OF PROPHECY

"The recluse opens his heart and reveals the hidden meaning of life. He merges into the shadow of the banyan tree. He slowly turns into a song. His unknown chantings sound like the chewing of coloured pebbles ..."

A Night of Prophecy is a simple film about poetry and witnessing the passage of time. Here, in this passage lie hidden answers, the seeds of what is to be and what is to be done. Through poetry emerges the possibility of understanding the past, the severities of conflict and the cycles of change. The film travels in the states of Maharashtra, Andhra Pradesh, Nagaland and Kashmir. Through complex territories of severe conflict, where throats are cut and minds are taught to absorb slavery, decades of fresh blood, oppression as powerful as mutation, pain beyond generations, where no reconciliation seems possible and yet... you can feel the fever of change.

The different poetic narratives with their own symbols begin to merge together, allowing us to see a more universal language of symbols and meanings, one which may be valid for all beings. Through poetry, you suddenly see where each and every territory is heading towards, where you belong and where to intervene, if you want to. The different poetic narratives merge together, allowing us to see a more universal language of symbols and meanings. The moment when this merger in the mind takes place is the simple moment of prophecy.

Like a huge wave that you cannot see, there comes a period when time begins to roll downhill. Once frozen in mid-air, the wave slowly begins to come down in a million droplets. Invisible hands in no one's control hold other unseen hands and many lives slowly move in convoluted slow motion ... Change is colossal ... so large that you cannot see the other end. Only some can sense it. (Amar Kanwar)

Jogi! O Ascetic! where are you going in this black pouring rain? / after you, neither roof nor door, nor window remain intact / a few sketches linger on the shattered walls / murmuring their sad tale to the tufts of grass / sprouting on the floors and in the bedroom / no curtain stirs no lamp flickers / the crow pleads with the wind, "could you please find out?"

Several years ago I realized that my films have to survive outside the broadcast world, and travelling and screening my films in India is very important for me - and I do it extensively. My films are screened all over - in schools, colleges, film clubs, conferences, by non-governmental organizations and in campaigns of different peoples movements. I also feel that for films to survive they need to find new homes and continuous screenings to small or large numbers. That creates a situation where other people take the film forward, allowing for the film to live and keep getting screened (Amar Kanwar)