Thursday, 22 August 2013
Thursday, 4 February 2010
So there they are! My family members, feeling all zapped and stunned at my announcement. Now did someone say, the greatest gift you can give another is the purity of your attentions? Yes, they did pay full attention to what I said and afterwards...it was a chorus of mayhem...producing harmony at its best! I was persuaded...asked...Ordered...and finally thrown out of my little abode for not agreeing to their convention! What could I do? If I wished to be a director...all I had to just direct! What was the rocket science involved there?
Round and round the world we go, we don't die of time, we die of vertigo...family members felt offended and I remained what I was...a recluse...loner trapped in his own illusionary graveyard where no one was willing to offer any bouquet...
One of those days when my dad used to sermon me about meaning of the life, he said, ‘If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with’. Very well then, will you mind telling me what happens when you realise you are not loved the way you want to and you are not going to end the way you want to, how should one deal then? He never talks about it but my personal and professional life talks of same events repeating again with hazardous outcomes.
While, I can forgot a hell lot of things yet I will never ever be able to get rid of scar in my heart. My journey did begin...at last...
Female anatomy fascinated me. The curve of their assets and the appeal of their round bottoms made me feel exhilarated. My first short film dealt with themes of sex, politics and cinephilia. How would sex appear if presented in its most original way and that is carnal and disturbed way? I wished to be the hell raiser of era of eroticism in its most naked form. What’s the point of hiding the most consistent and frequent event of our bedrooms from the eyes of voyeuristic sensibilities? Let them see what they derive their greatest pleasure from.
The relationship between personal comfort and ideals is a strong theme to talk about. Yet, I was not allowed to talk them in a crude way. The movie financers I approached found me sick and wondered whether I have it in me to be acceptable to the masses and critics alike. It’s tough to be a director when you are totally dependent upon on someone other than you who also proclaims to be the heart of the film; it’s writer! How could I rely upon someone else’s flight of fantasy when I had the entire universe of imagination clambering around my feet? Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter and here, I was the artist!
Portrayal of sex reveals the purest form of human soul. It is almost like putting a human soul under the microscope and dissecting it. Depicting sex in its rawest form allows you to steal the beauty and offer a bit of heterogeneity. I kept struggling and my ideas failed to find any acceptance from socially relevant norms of film-making. If the perception of society is restricted to a particular name and for which I was subjected to consistent barbs from my school mates then that also allows me to arouse controversy iconoclastically to encourage people to reconsider themselves and their society.
At last, I managed to put together pieces of my heart and some fine fabrics of my passion and I headed for a slum where I could find some themes I could relate to and some actors who would not need to act. I saw this girl (Eva) choosing pieces of stones from the gutter material. Her skin was dark and yet she possessed a certain spark. While I held handy cam in my hands, I could sense her infinite curiosity and that silent desire of figuring in that screen. While I looked at her face I couldn’t help staring at her blouse that was barely managing to hide her growing breasts.
I asked her, will you act?
She kept her gaze fixed to the surface.
She appeared like a growing teen who recently had her first brush with blood and gore. Her body language was suggestive of her hidden pursuits and I did manage to make her say, yes without any difficulty. When I first shot her, I closed my eyes as if I were praying, the world just disappears in the bottom of the darkness, Even though, my heart starts to beat, searching for a limited eternity... and I get this shot perfect..
I wished again...come back to me, my sweet lady, by following your memories, to the origin of gentleness and dreams. She gave a perfect first shot. My movie revolved around a character who finds comfort in the anonymous arms of a teen after the death of his sister (Barbara) in violent circumstances. Both the leading ladies of the movies, his wife and this teen were dark skinned, slender, dark haired and had brown eyes.
Both leading ladies had smoking habits. Both lost their virginities at a tender age. Eva and Barbara had to appear in full frontal nude scenes. No, there was no intention of any moral exploitation or appeasement of front benchers. It’s just that, my idea of a world was devoided of any sexual discrimination and would be more presentable with frontal female nudity. My idea of sexual discourse needed to present the chaos on the street as experienced by me during my entire life.
I knew, my idea wouldn’t go well with a large section of society but the person who writes for fools is always sure of a large audience. I was not writing for fools and nor for large audience. I was an artist and I was there to live out loud. While my movie was in progress, sometimes, I used to lock the door and lock my head and dreamt of butterflies instead. It made me feel fresh for the theme of my movie that was going to make some fucking real good noise...
Thursday, 29 January 2009
I was looking forward to college days more so because I kind of felt that agonizing days spent in the school will be left behind. My inhibitions had established strong roots inside my mind. Though, I was aware of it but could not feel courageous enough to get rid of it. I tried writing just to keep away all the frustration collected over the years. But my notes gave me the impression of randomly targeting some innocent person who had nothing but childhood fun. Though, their idea of fun was cruel and detrimental to my existence. All of my letters addressed to me were more like two strangers and insane people are indulged in a strange reality of hate letters which was always likely to get out of control.
Those letters were part of an experiment in emotional terror and the result would have surely reflected in one of the stranger being killed by another. My personality was a sum total of who I was and what I wanted to be! Perhaps I was insane enough to keep letters written by me on my own doorsteps and hoping that the stranger residing within me would get to read it in a different way! Split personality? Sorry, I think I was pretty much normal.
My family members and few relatives who are also known as well-wishers in cultured world, often asked me ‘so what do you want to do with your life’! I did not answer, because I could not! What else would you say about a person who was seriously busy in writing a love letter to himself every passing day and the next day reading the same letter with the excitement as if someone else had just mailed me that!
Finally one fine day, I managed to mention about movies as my career! I wanted to get into movie making and learning the nuances of film making. I had tried writing number of times. My inability to come up with a solid plot made me realize my limitations in writing. So I had a lot to share, a lot to tell people, an entire lifetime to reflect and present the insecurities and fallacies of human mind!
I was heavily into watching movies. Movies they call as art or realistic movies sans any fanfare, picturesque locations, tuxedo clad poker faced actors and ladies who were best at demonstrating latest brands of lingerie. My idea of movie making was to reflect pathos woven in the womb of comic moments of life! My movies had to reflect my view of life and life is not about memorizing perfect quotations! It’s about politics, sex, violence and elusive concept of peace. Elusive because, you always want it but no one actually manages to achieve it his lifetime yet as a concept this is important.
I bought a handy cam and shot my first video. I did manage to find few like-minded mates in my college days. The term ‘like minded’ is questionable but those few were the ones who did not think much of me either in positive or negative way! So they were ‘like minded’. My video was out rightly rejected by the jury members of the short movies category despite the fact that, I achieved the task of putting the human soul under the microscope. I was ostracized for my clarity of vision and deplored for the video content! So what was the movie all about? I will tell you.
That rejection was the first nail in the coffin.
I was standing in my cell and facing constant barbs of my cell-mate!
I found myself putting my arms around the iron rods of the door and wondering,
I hope, I did no wrong!
Its tough for a dog to complete his life journey alone but a wolf can. May be. A wolf can.
Everyone’s fate is pre-ordained and all the wretched karmas performed by us are nothing but foreplay designed to enhance the pain of our domed fates.
Someone has rightly said, ‘There are things known, and things unknown, and in between them are the doors’. A new journey of my life began on the fateful day when I broke the news of my movie-making ambition to my family. The dining room of my home was no better than what I am facing in the prison. That eventful night was perhaps the second nail in the coffin.
Monday, 19 January 2009
Did you say God? The almighty? The universal father? My life has given me every reason to believe that if God is my father, then I am an orphan. Damn me for being unthankful but insanity and selfishness always go together.
I am not sure how exactly it panned out but it seems as if I am still roaming in the dirty by lanes of that beautiful place people fondly call slum. By the way, I forgot to introduce myself! Officially I am known as Stalin. My complete name reads as Ray Stalin. Don’t know who the hell named me Stalin! My god damn parents or their parents or some shithead neighbor! This name has me given me more problems than any other living creature has ever done. Guess, had I been conceived in some third world country, it would have been fine but here in this country, people are more obsessed with metaphorical problems which have nothing to do with real human problems. Through out my school days, these brats called me names which are worse than being called motherfucker! Communist, fascist, anti-establishment, curse etc are few of the lovely souvenirs I had been bestowed with by my ‘good natured fun loving’ mates!
It’s still a night with full of stars and I am familiar with each one of them. But, am I sleepy or just dreaming?
I was a shy kid, a back bencher basically. I was known for my feeble mumbles and huge jumbling acts performed with alarming regularity. That reason alone was conspiring enough to devoid me of any sort of friends. Though, I was a master of saying Hi & Bye and that too, without ever bringing a smile on my face. I guess, popularity demands a few tricks up your sleeves. Smile is one among them. But why to smile when you can still convey essential things with your silence? Though, you don’t need to present your natural smile; even a fake or plastic smile will keep you in good books of people who matter at different stages of your life. I failed to realize this basic social decorum. Add to that my wonderful name!
I was always given a royal treatment by few innovative kids of my school. At one point of time, they made it a ritual to welcome me with amazing methods. Samples this; 5-6 guy standing together with one hand straight horizontally and palm facing the ground while the other hand….well….should I say? Guess, I should, though sometimes nostalgia is a wonderful resource of pain and indifference. Well, the other hand holding their ‘things’ and shouting loud, ‘Hail Stalin’! That was some generous reception! A’int it? That was the kind of stuff my childhood was made of. Wonderful memories, indeed!
My reticent nature did not help the cause either. Ben Harper once said, time will make all this go away, but it’s time that has taken my tomorrows and turned them into yesterdays! Ben Harper who? I don’t know either! But what he said made sense to me! He must be some down-on-his-luck kind of guyz! I started to find a great escape route in movies. Neorealist movies were my favorites. The kind of movies, who come up with the tag of realistic, filmed in slums and poor location with set of wannabe actors who however manage to perform better than Steven Segal mould of actors. These movies typified my personal set of circumstances where I could identify with their difficult moral and economical hazards depicted in the movie. I was hooked to that movie, ‘Bicycle Thieves’. To be very honest, even I started to nurture dream of venturing into movie-making. But the dreams of youth are the regrets of maturity but that saga will be unveiled some other time!
Aah, my dreams are making me squirm like a bee in a beehive! Why am I sweating? Hallucination! Told you, didn’t I?
The flames are blue
And the sea is ablaze,
The water seems red
And the earth is drunk.
I, the monstrous Buddha,
Inebriated in the bitter drink,
Thinking the thoughts
Of insane denial,
Am I a human?
Or deprecating mask?
I guess, I was still dreaming when I heard Sound of Raucous voice screaming at full throttle!
Some nice little adjectives! …….
“Wake up you good for nothing fucking cocksucker! This ai’nt the property of your father’s! This is called prison!” The guard screamed like usual!
Am I hallucinating? No, this time, it’s real!
Did I give you my full introduction? Well, my name is Ray Stalin. You can also call me prisoner number 312! This was my first night in prison and I am accused of rape of a 13 year old girl and probably murder the details of which I am not exactly familiar with!
Thursday, 4 September 2008
I wonder, whether I like state of insomnia but can't really say that I "like" this, because it always makes me feel quite melancholic. It’s really tough to escape insomniac nights. I keep loosing myself in thinking irresistibly irrelevant things! Most of them are nothing but wishful thinking and some anticipated heated do or die kind of fight!
Alas, neither of them ever actually realizes themselves.
Ah, wishful thinking is at its best when you feel most lonely, when you are deprived of quality people in your surroundings and finally when you crave for persons capable enough to understand you! Wishful thinking also visits you when you feel like being smothered and pulled under by complex structures of color...to the knowledegeables,i may not speak but eyes have this bad addiction of telling you everything you need to know. Well, now I know why I am so passionately indulged in this so called wishful thinking!
Few things...you want in that wistful list...well...But in reality, we don't want them, we rather want everything we’ve stolen in this suffering! Sometimes I tell people to want everything but I guess, in my own case, I use caution in what I believe!
Pinnacle of contradiction, I must admit! But story never ends here...Because those who are haunted by the demons of their own excellence and conscious are always denied everything! It always becomes very easy to lead from the front when others are broken, and have lost everything!
Take my hope away...
When something inside dies,
When there's no more pride
Take my life away...
Thy soul is no more,
Leave nothing left inside...
Still, it’s not enough...
It will be truly salvation...
Only when your heart is broken
A thousand times
With every moment...
How does it matter, when everything is taken away without any warning! I no more try to remain undaunted in this suffering!
Gosh, how tough is cheering yourself up! Situations keep providing you chances and more chances to trap yourself in abyss of agony! In the depths of hopelessness! And it’s always easy to fall in that trap! This time, it’s slightly different! I no longer feel like getting out of that abyss! The art of squeezing my strength from my own being is getting lost in quagmire of worldly maze! I need to suffer more! Because I haven’t suffered enough! I have not been given damages more than I can bare!
No, I vent suffered enough!
Its tough to comprehend others pain...but do let me know when some part of yours die! May be, I will have some reasons to explain the death of thousand of those things! But, be cautious while treading...Because you are treading on some dead things..!
I am getting tired of blabbering...don’t know what crap I am writing…seems more like I am writing for the heck of writing…my apologies to myself for that...
I haven’t suffered enough...
Let me suffer some more...
When the heart is broken
A thousand times
With every moment...
So...i won’t forget to breathe tonight once again.
Who knows, tonight might be the last...
So for the countless time,
To those dead things...
I will try to say final goodbye...
Thursday, 31 July 2008
While writing this, I lighted up a cigarette. My beloved’s voice echoed in my mind, “You shouldn't smoke. It'll kill you.” Do I care? No, I don't care. I guess, there’s plenty of ways to die. But you have to figure out a way to live. I have figured out that way long time ago. Now, I know that’s a hard way but Look at you, all sophisticated. You talk and you talk again. Polishing each and every word. Covering them under the blanket of selfishness yet you will never ever admit that you are selfish. Why? Because that’s not the norm!
I walk the streets at night now
I find places and things
I never knew existed.
But am I finding them or are they finding me?
In right and wrong, and the thin, fragile line between them.
And they are probably wondering, as I speak.
Why is somebody talking the way, he is doing?
I was tossing and turning in my bed last night trying to get even a few hours sleep. I could not get them and in between all of a sudden I thought of this word ‘communication skills’. This word was followed by second word, ‘virtual world.’ How hard I tried, I could not find even a bit of semblance between the two. Third word roamed in my mind ‘my proactive communication’. There were no co-relation yet I tried to find the relation between all these words. First and foremost thought which came to my mind is escapism. People who often visit and spend a considerable amount of time in social networking sites do not have a rich personal life. I, personally have a very rich personal life. Rich, very rich. The word ‘escapism’ rules in those peoples’ lives. Poor they? Yeah, definitely. How about those people having good communication skills? What the hell are you talking about?
As far as I know and understand, communication can be defined as balanced mutual exchange of thoughts where people are willing to listen to each other, where people are willing to talk to each other and willing to understand each other’s point of view. Now that’s a rarity, even in real world. Sometimes I have found people plotting about what they are going to speak while you are sharing your stuff. Imagine the disgust I feel! Here I am talking something, wanting to be heard and understood and there person on the other side of the phone is not at all listening g to you. In fact they are thinking of what next to say?
I love those people like anything!! I am crazy about them.
On other side of the spectrum, I find people who are simply incapable of understanding whatever you are conveying! They will always pretend that they are trying to understand you. Few of them won’t even give that pretense. All they seek is a punching bag!
Call you up! Blast their miseries! Go away! What a simple formula! Though few of them even have guts to say, you are my friend and I stand by you! Gosh! I can’t even laugh! See the irony! You selfish suckers! I know every human is selfish by nature. They have to be. No issues with that but show me the guts to admit that! Nah, how could they! Those lesser souls! How could they! Though few of them have this courtesy to say at the end of the conversation, “by the way, how are you doing?” yeah, I am always doing fine!
That’s the kind of people I meet in virtual world. 8 out of 10 are like that! And I love them. Because of these very people I feel like a superhuman! They literally make me feel how good I am! Anyways I like to feel good about my strong existence in my mind but thanks to these people, I feel even better! Virtual world is kind of stoppage time in life. You stop here, hold on for a while and better move on. Few relations, I mean few deserving relations who is based on mutual love, respect and trust will stay on! No matter what, they will stay! Few others, you better run as your ass has caught fire! I never understood how people lived with fear. How women afraid to be their natural selves! How people afraid of...accepting the truth of their inner selves.
I always believed that fear belonged to other people. The Weaker people.
It never touched me. And then I saw it touching others. Or perhaps I saw it late. Behind those arrogant faces and exteriors you see a vulnerable face. A weak face. And then you know how it feels when it touches them, you know...
I just could not realize that it's been there all along.....waiting beneath the surfaces of everything you thought to be tough, strong and balanced!
And then I saw their skins crawling...
..And my heart sickened...
...and I look at the person they once pretended to be
Walking down that street...
...and then I wondered, will I be same...?
Will they ever be their pretended selves again?
Talk to me. Look at this fucking crap right here.
Did you ever wonder Why don't my hands shake?
Why doesn't somebody stop me?
Now, almost everybody lies. But the dead can't.
And then again, the lies tell you things too, because...
...people tell them for a reason.
And those faces in the virtual world,
What are they telling me?
Did your hands shake?
But that's one of the benefits of being on the right side.
It's a fair question. You...i guess, I am not sure, perhaps, and you become someone else.
And these people have become someone else!
Sometimes that just makes it harder, you know. You just wish you didn't.
That’s the most important thing! Avoid the cribbers like plague! Because when you interact with such people, it is astonishing and numbing, to find that the person you are talking to is basically a stranger. One that has your arms, your legs, your eyes, and that person gradually acquires this power to make you a sleepless, restless stranger. You will find yourself just walking. Eating and finally just living.
They suck all your energy! I almost vanished, thanks to those humanly vampires! Making you feel like an organism that changes, mutates. Building sprout-like chromosomes on the DNA of your inner streets. And tell you what; they are damn good at it! Thanks to these bouts of insomnia, I feel better at deciding! I love floating. I love flying. I love my detachable nature. And I love leaving behind few dead relations. I would still love to make new relations. I would still love to rejuvenate old relations provided they have something new to offer because I have. I always had! Show me some variety. Show me you are not needy. Show me, you love being happy! Show me, you want to talk and listen and I am all yours!
Look, what I have got! I've got or I had got a show, a very lively show that’s almost finished. Perhaps it’s already mixed. All it needs is an intro and an outro, which I could live. But I do realize I've got numerous unending shows in various stages. And I've got all these stories in my life. You know, new stuff, better stuff.
And I know what I'm doing,
And you know that I know what I'm doing. Perhaps, I’ve been through a little bit.
Sometimes a boisterous laughter conceals much more than what actually it reveals. But i have a public and I'm not sure they are ready for it yet.
Look....I just need to keep living. Happily!
Well, this is me and yet again I start walking the city. A city which is like any metropolis which is an organism...But it is horrible...to feel detached for the place you once loved. And to see few faces you knew so well......and be afraid of their shadows.
It’s even more strange to see familiar steps but you feel unable to climb them.
You know I heard this story about suicide bombers over in Iraq?
When they die they want 72 virgins. What do I want?
do want whores? Do I want them while I'm alive?
No give me happiness, not for my sake but for own sake!
Not because seeing you happy face will make me happy but because I will stat believing others can be happy too!
Other can get out of that self-induced trap!
Someone is playing God out there...i also tried that…
Because I've been asked and expected to do something that was a norm from my won standards…
But I guess, its time for revenge! Yeah, revenge makes us feel good.
I know, The carriage held but just ourselves.
Does it keep me up at night?
Does it haunt me?
Because it haunts me.
But yeah, one thing is for sure,
There is no going back to that other person...
.. That other place.
This thing, this stranger..
That’s all you have now.