|home and Tipu during Diwali|
Back to Working out after a month of weakness+diwali break(grilled cheese week)+filmshoot.
The rate at which I am recovering from major previous setbacks and discovering new and old music on dear youtube is just amazing. The feeling is similar to how a runner pushes himself each day by a few meters more to cross that marathon mark.
Even now. Im listening to a very old playlist of Sarah Vaughan songs for the first time and it is pure love. That is right after listening to Sajda from Kill Dill. Both aakash Gandhi and the feature film versions.
Saw an amazingly done video about beauty by being Indian dubbed in actress Divya Dutta's voice. It just reminded me of a friend whom I find truly beautiful. And by that I mean someone whose stories along with her marathi antics are something I am always in awe of.
Also. Chopped off some hair again. It is really badly done but I like the lightness on my head right now.
|Air block due to pesticide in the air.|
|I guess im ruining the visual language of my blog at the moment :-P|
How running gets to you. How the ability to survive underwater gets to you. How admiring all good things and the capability to overcome jealousy and make peace with patience gets on to you as well.
Not happened to you yet? It will.
Last week on monday I ran. I ran in my college campus behind the boy's hostel towards the girl's hostel as the security ran after me. My left shoe was drenched in sewer waste. The guard could never get my name. Maybe he did later as the other two guys with me chickened out and gave into the so-called authority of a place which we students are only running. Our parent's money is running. To run away from the sight of people thinking you won't be able to make it to your room safely like a thief. And then you make it. Surprisingly you make it. And that gave me all the more reason to start swimming in the cold waters again. And hitting the boring gym again too. After all the fanfare of my film shoot, I finally cleaned my room. Unpacked. Made apricot scrub and chamomile footspa soap a part of my living regime.
Watched Fear and loathing in Las Vegas. And Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara again.
I want to do what makes me happy. Make films. And I am not confusing watching and enjoying Cinema with the art and toil of making cinema. I enjoy things and crew getting on my nerves while a shot has to be taken with all that frying pressure. Something I told Bhagwat when he made it to my college to act in my film.
And Cinema makes all of us happy. Or maybe most of us.
Two days back my dad called and asked "aur bataao, Mazaa aaraha hai fvd mein?" And I had to say Yes. I had never been so honest in my life. Ok wait, I have mostly been honest in my life but yeah regarding the decision of staying back in this shit hole of a place that is Loni, that reply was the first of it's kind.
Met a friend after some odd 15 months at Shishas and got winked and smiled at by Loy Mendoza during an incredible Jazz performance :-)
Saturday morning I had a call from this person at 7:30 in the morning saying how she wanted me to take a look at her script and give her some input. At first I heard she wanted to borrow my Canon 60 D again and I screamed WHAT? But then from there onwards she made it clear what she wanted exactly. I said okay and asked her to see me after breakfast.
Then I received a message from the same saying "I am sorry if this is uncomfortable. I know there are problems. But I trust your writing, so if you could take a read and dissect it very honestly. It might help"
To that I replied a very humble "It's cool."
And went to sleep again. I had slept at 4 am the night before due to a classmate's shoot. I woke up in the evening. And recalled the morning conversation. And prayed to God hoping it was all just a bad dream and I hadn't really received that call. But there it was. Log history and whatsapp history all intact. With those additional blue ticks.
First of all. That Mam was not doing me a favor by investing trust in my writing. Just like I wasn't doing anyone a favor by stooping down to other people's level in order to mend things.
I only mean well here for my writing and myself.
That Mam has certainly no idea what damage she has done to me and my surroundings and still showed the audacity to ask me for my assistance. A pretty brave attempt indeed. But it does not work that way. All this leading to an effortlessly created Chutzpah moment. Shit happens.
I realized how far I have come. And people are still struggling with their scripts. Not to mock anyone but this is how Karma rolls. And no I am not having any bouts of an egocentric mania. It is just that, it takes a lot when you try to rise from scratches. It takes months. For some of us it takes years. But eventually it happens.
Today pest control took place in the hostel building. The entire place was in fumes. I tried setting up my desk space as I have to start my edit soon. Make the real film now. I miss Kim.
|fumes still persisting|
|lit my tea lamp to get rid off the diesel smell :-P|
|and then the air and lights changed :-)|
|the first thing Kim left behind. You and your family both stay with me on my desk.|
|Nathini from last year's Ganpathi by Minoo Aunty|
|some little place for Gurudutt and the other guys.|
|the rosary and the frog. Again by Kim.|
|Again by Kim|
|this was sort of a birthday gift from last year :-P|
Also, so much good stuff. From new songs of P.K. to a new release by Taylor Swift ( I sort of find that girl okay and nice), Im loving whatever the visual medium has been offering me recently. Now I realize why the worship Swift as the ultimate getting over breakup song Queen :-P
And a few quotes by Jiddu Krishnamurti. His book which I have been reading is thoroughly enlightening. Goes with my mental state.