Stuck in a seminar preparation. Jumbled graphs, data, slides. Screenplays all hanging in half life. Can’t type anything other than bullet points now. Power point has spoiled me. Need to get back in groove after 31st. Planning to buy a tablet. Hopes to utilise bits and pieces of time more effectively. I know, I know. A tablet can be a double edged sword. Yeah, some times you gamble and you lose. Or you may win too. Hopes that Eid is on 31st itself. Then it will be holiday. And I will be saved. Over. And out.
Photo by koalazymonkey
‘A great antagonist is some one who believes in the inherent goodness of his own intentions and a great drama is where everyone is an antagonist.’—Goldman
Some how I am getting a hang about the times of our freedom struggle (doesn’t mean that I think this is the ‘second freedom struggle’). All the hard facts about our freedom struggle aside, there are certain nuances and things about the atmosphere that becomes revealed to you in unique occasions like this… A politically shrewd person raising the right kind of issue with an immaculate sense of timing… The government which is exasperated by ‘this weird man’ with ‘eccentric ideas’ rigid in his own way… The other Indian parties and stake holders who don’t agree with him in most issues but still put up with him because he is effective… The public dictated more by pure emotions rather than nuances and subtext, ready to sacrifice for this total stranger… History does repeat in its own mysterious ways.
How many writers are out there who can write well in multiple genres? Not many I guess ( may be Jaideep Sahni). But how many of them have really locked on to the genre fit for them from the first script itself? It appears that the usual rule is a period of feeling around with various genres and then success with one genre defining their career (even if they want to write in another genre). In that sense, this phase is about experimentation for me. I know that probably comedy is not my cup of tea. But I am forcibly trying to make myself write a treatment at least. And I am co-writing a fantastical comedy. As some one in a scientific profession, one ought to have proof. Intuitions and gut feelings wont do, however romanticised those notions be. I am hoping that finally the proof that I come up with is not too unpleasant.
I can do thrillers. I have co-written a thriller titled ‘I Am Game’ which generated some opinion and was almost sold. Probably drama I can handle. Trying to prove that by writing a script. Can do action- not much different from thrillers I guess. The same with horror. Can do, but don’t want to, right now. Unless I get a killer concept that is worth the trouble. I really want to write a romantic comedy. I feel that I can do justice to the genre with all the verbal ballistics, something like ‘One fine day’ or ‘As good as it gets.’ Right now trying to find an idea for a romantic comedy or a satire. And I want to write a sci fi project. I know, there is no market here right now. And I don’t have idea that is worth investing time. But I will definitely write one. It is an opportunity to marry philosophy with science. Why should some one else have all the fun?
photo by Esther Gibbons
The kid was on the verge of tears. The cold air continued to mumble in his ears. The scooter was going fast.
Tomorrow his school is going to open. His Christmas vacation is ending. He won’t get to play ‘home and school’ with his cousins now. He won’t be running to the corner shop every 5 minutes for the 5 paise confectionaries. He won’t be bragging about the martial prowess of his favourite film stars. But what really hurt him was the fact he will have to collect the valued half year exam papers on the opening day of school. And it can be a very unpleasant experience.
Suddenly it started to rain. B parked the scooter in front of a shop. The kid and his younger brother ran to the cover of a roof with B. It was then only B noticed the expression on the face of the kid. He smiled, ‘I know you are not happy.’ No marks for guessing, kid thought. ‘When there is a holiday, I will come to pick you both,’ B said. Kid knew B was trying to console him. But still he believed B. It felt better to believe. The three stood there. Stuck in a bubble of time. And also stuck in rain.
Around 20 years later, B would die. Leaving every one bewildered. But still that bubble has not burst… And that rain has not ended.
Photo by konaboy