November 20, 2009

Happiness, after all!

There are moments your dads just embrace you with their words and make you feel so good about being their daughters. These are pretty rare moments really, because, contrary to popular opinion, I AM an Amma's child. It has always been my amma who has supported all my whims and fancies, despite knowing that I have a tendency to the excess.

My appa and I have always been very attached to one another. We have been friends more than anything else, just like my amma and I. We fight, we bond, we team up against my sister or my mother, we talk electronics and gadgets, we discuss science with great interest and he's someone who has inspired me a lot.

But somewhere, despite all that, I have always thought appa never really encouraged my endeavours and never really cared for what I wanted. Praise from him, was always valued. Amma knew, intuitively, and she is my pillar of strength, the biggest support and a person whose capacity to love, patience, spirit and brilliance I want to emulate. Appa was this person whose genius I admire, experience I respect and whose sense of humour I laugh over. But somewhere, being the white elephant child that I am and also with my varied interests and extreme enthusiasm, appa and I have always had our differences of opinion.

So when that day, just after my jury, which went really well, I rushed to the phone to call amma, who'll KNOW how much this meant to me, who'd feel the exact happiness like I did and who'd be delighted over it! I knew she could be trusted to buoy up my ecstacy. I asked her to pass on this news to appa, as I was sure he'd be happy, but not absolutely sure of how much it would mean to him. But when he called back almost instantly and with such enthusiastic happiness, gushed his congratulations, the delight I knew, could not be worded.

For, the man who told me it wasn't wise to chase films, who provoked me saying it is high time I get a job, and who also laughed at me for being a fool to give up architecture- finally realised how much this means to me. And humbly, with great love for his daughter, he sweetly called and chirped in his happy song to me.

It meant so much, I'd be mad to attempt to write it. It jerked hitherto invisible tears into my eyes suddenly.

And today, when he once again did a similar sweet act, I realized, maybe it was just a fear that his child would be hurt-that made him oppose me. And when he said, an hour ago, that he can see me go places, I had happy tears once again and a new dream rooted itself deep into my heart. It is not just for the mother(and sister too), but also for the father that the movies shall be made.

Appa, I'm sorry, if I have ever been horrible to you. But you know I love you!
Amma, I love you for what you are and what, I know, you'll always be! You're simply wonderful.
Swethu, you're perfect and even a thought of you makes me long for home!

It is delightful to be alive!
God bless the world with such happiness!

November 19, 2009

At 2:21 am on a Thursday morning

As a string of poplar Bollywood numbers are belted from a party in one of the hostels, I am, in the light of my table lamp, tapping the keys of my laptop. My roommate is tossing and turning, unable to sleep with all the crooning from the speakers and all the sing-along voices. The typing isn't helping either.

It is not that I particularly have anything special to say. But a sudden seizure to write just broke over me. Speaking of seizures, I've been watching a bit of House M.D. lately and I can't wait to find the loser who deleted it from Unsecure so I could feed him to those scavenging kites that circle the Eames Plaza!

I've had an 'avial' day with a bit of every thing thrown in to flavour it. Work went fantastic today. Whether or not the final product is good, bad or ugly, we had great fun trying out the different lights and positioning them. I felt like a kid with a newly opened Lego toy box.

I LOVE Cinematography. Maybe only after direction and writing, but in a special way. There is something that light and darkness try to tell, and capturing them and sealing them on a midget sized device forever still seems to fascinate me.

Maybe the undying kid in me is helping me in this field of cinema. It talks to me and makes me write, draw and make shots that excite me. That excitement- I never want to lose. Irrespective of the end product(judgement is anyway so relative in everything), I hope this excitement never dies.

I am glad I took this course here. I was delighted today when I could intutively feel a few things about lighting dawn on me. Architecture, maybe has a say in it. I always used to base my designs on light and free-flowing spaces. So to a certain extent, the physical quality of light is something I seem to be picking up fast. The technical aspects, is where yours truly stumbles. I just DON'T seem to have a memory to retain it. Internet, thank god, was invented, and so was Gutenberg's press, and I'm glad both have been a part of our history.

I am hoping to experiment with my 'Lightening'- my very ordinary camera- this weekend. I have no idea if I would succeed. Things just crop up dime a dozen and the KMC has been tugging at my sleeveends from when I landed. I need to pay obesience to that love of my life and run my hands across the stems of those wonderful books. And as always, I want to think of all the great thoughts that have completed the space between covers...I want to dream of all those torturous times those authors must have experienced before shaping this beautiful thing...it is so lovely to be in a place full of books!

I miss 'My Shrine'(my personal library of books not-open-to-public or friends. I don't believe in lending books to people generally as they never return/take care of it like something precious!). The pain is sometimes so unbearable that it gets almost to a level of a physical ache at the tip of the fingers!

There used to be days when I used to take out all the 400 odd books from the shelf and arrange them all back in, after cataloguing the new ones. Oh! Such fun times! I miss doing that. I wonder if me and my shrine shall ever be reunited forever. Maybe when I build that dream house...

I seem to be in a really dreamy state right now. So many expectations from myself, a few from the world at large, a huge craving for Andhayug to happen and a hope for the role of the Old Mendicant. Plans plans plans and more plans for my life as a filmmaker and creator of sorts(my jury had a good dig at my partiality for this word. Lol!).

I can't wait to learn and begin work. Short films for kids, Travel docus and programmes, telefilms(I LOVE this concept! Not too long, not too short! JUST right!), reviving Doordarshan(maybe!), teaching art and film, writing endlessly, ahhhhhhhhh!!! Life is soooooooooooo full of endless possibilities!

I am blithe! :)

God bless the world with dreams. I think as long as we are, as Willy Wonka would say, "the music makers and the dreamers of dreams", all our troubles, somehow, shall just fritter away!

Ah! To be alive! :)

(P.S: Randomness, yes! :P )

November 17, 2009

Musings

Where did all those fairy dreams and hopes go? A tiny shoot-ling of cynicism has crept inside and established its roots like some old tenant claiming the house for their own!

There used to be a time when I could just let myself berserk and dream on and on with such vividness and conviction! Growing up has somewhere or the other, left a little singe in the end, a few black spots on my rosy glasses, marring my visions.

Once in a while, unknowingly out of old habits, the spirit just takes off on a mad unmanned flight into the limitless cosmos. And then, for those few seconds I experience once again, after eons, that pure feeling of unquenchable happiness.

But they are only sometimes. Even for a die hard optimist and humanity lover, it does get hard to live with both of the above at a stretch!

Growing up isn't half as fun as I thought it would be. And honestly, I had never wanted to grow up, really! So even the meagre expectations lay cruelly crumpled.

well, work stares ahead, motivating me to the unknowns ahead.

Good luck, good people!

November 10, 2009

This moment

Weirdness.

Afloat in some limitless universe.

A Bottomless pit receives.

darkness that can be worded not.

a shameful feeling of loneliness

in the opening paragraphs of life.

Eye full of searchlights scanning the skies

In the rhythmic clatter of existence

wanting a momentary pause of meaning

space-expanding or contracting

never stagnant-same.

never embracing the whole in perfection.

Give me back my rainbows

those lyrical melodies that were sung within

smugness invade again

this wandering hermit to peace.

© Dryad's Peak
Maira Gall