I thought I was lucky… No, I wasn’t… guess I was just ignorant. Life is not all about luck…. It is all about snapshots. It’s all about garnering moments – moments as gossamers. Gathering them, weaving them as different perspectives of films…. It’s all about knowing and not knowing… If you know, you are aware! If you don’t you are just a ware… a warehouse of desires…. And people say its luck… No, I am lot lucky…. I have been a bundle of experiences and obliviousness…. And my life has been a series of dreams captured within moments… with affection, love, intimacies and rejections…
Hmmmm, it started all as a picture postcard (you know quite like the ones you see in tourist places. You put a stamp and send it to the person you love the most) … a sylvan picture captured as in a black white camera. Ironically, I have been trying to get back that picture… but it exists only as nostalgia. A black and white film…. Devoid of all color… and full of all color. Can’t believe that I could get nostalgic about life that has just 2 colors!!!!! My life can’t be so simple… I can’t be so. But that is what I am. (Or at least wish to think I am)… It was a life (a child’s hood) full of visuals… the sounds came later. At times, with lack of synchrony.
Skipping through the rushes, graduating to movies…. I started editing my life. A lot of advertisements… flooded in teenage. It was the age of teenads. I loved it all. I still do. Looking and meeting people… buying in and getting sold out on first love. The free offer (ha ha)… And then with youth... It was my first love, my first commercial film… that to me was a cinema paradiso. Every film had the same story, the same features, the same credits… it was the same formula. And I loved it. J Can you believe it, I would look at Disney world and see my love floating by as the cuddly teddy bear, watch Sci Fi and view it as the distant star yearned for, revel in comedy and would feel the touch in the form of hot tears streaming down my cheeks that were glowing with laughter, hum the songs sensing the melody of its presence. I invested my all… without tiring… confident of retirement benefits. I lived through each moment of my life maturing through plots and subplots… weaving a centralized theme.
Paradiso… presented with breaks, featuring advertisements!!! I didn’t like the ads now… the breaks… the momentary turbulences. If was life full of visuals… synchronized with din. A din that was recorded later….dubbed into the silence of lip movements. One fails to view ‘that’ effort made to achieve perfection. Perfection can be flawed especially when dubbed…
Cinemas end… they do not last more than 3 hours… taking one-third of my life. I walked out of the theater and was part of the crowd… I could feel the beads of perspiration trickle down my spine. It was hot in the inside. The outside was cool… but empty. Ironical!, we feel cool in the emptiness that surrounds us. The temp dips with heightened pressure. Others were geared to watch the same film. I was tempted to stop them. But life is all about getting out of a theater, walking to a parking lot, paying the price for having parked and then leaving. The longer you park, the bigger the price! I paid and left. They will too!!!!!!!!! Maybe not…. But then where would they go? They had to come out! The dilemma of being captured within a frame!
I was out…. One third of my life was done with. I now started making cost-effective films… Over the years, I learnt to work within my means. The economics of film making and living life is something that I learnt on the job… (I still am learning). Have you heard of documentaries? Yes, works well.! Maturity, social cause… and all that blah blah… the fever of doing well. It’s the virus that catches on… works for a short while and then Kaput! Not much viewership. No one wants to see it. What do I do? I still want to be expressive… just as much as the black and white pictures… with all its simplicity. (I still thought life was simple. I still think so!) Life is simple… I complicate it reading patterns in it. My days that had started with “action” now had commenced with ‘’pack up”. I had to do something… had to pack something within myself.
Why. Why do we all want to express ourselves? In some form or the other? As an epitaph, as a verse, an object (I remember, I still think of a grand aunt of mine as the first sun glasses that I bought. She was like it - dark, round and expensive J) Why do we want to express ourselves? Why do I want to do so? Why do I want someone to know me? I don’t know… I want to know. My senses receptive to all that surrounds me… I am part of someone else’s surrounding. Do they sense me? I want to know that! But is it important to know that?
I make only tele serials now! They are easy to deal with. Simple in its story line, complex in its communication; small doses – easy to deal with, wide enough to cover an entirety of passions; proactively forecasting the tomorrow, and in the midst of predictive behaviors giving rise to reactive emotions. I have been doing that, living my life like a tele serial… see more of me tomorrow! The now being lost!
I want the now captured. It’s the immediate that is getting edited. I watch myself in the now, the psyche working on the tomorrow…traveling between the now and the then. Seizing the wind, and thereby ceasing its power. The snip of the scissor, the darkness of the reels, is capturing me. Meaning being lost in the stillness of the similar visuals. Meaning is captured only when the reel rolls, lights penetrate and the world emerges in its entirety. I thought I was happy making split tele serials. But, I am not… especially if you have tasted the passion of making a commercial. I want to get back. I have my zoo bag, my camera of experiences, costumes of emotions, and props of help… I need a story… Can someone give me a story? A simple one!!!!!!!!
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