I will meet you yet again

(Mein tainu pher milan gi)

—-Amrita Pritam.

I will meet you yet again
How and where? I know not.
Perhaps I will become a
figment of your imagination
and maybe, spreading myself
in a mysterious line
on your canvas,
I will keep gazing at you.

Perhaps I will become a ray
of sunshine, to be
embraced by your colours.
I will paint myself on your canvas
I know not how and where –
but I will meet you for sure.

Maybe I will turn into a spring,
and rub the foaming
drops of water on your body,
and rest my coolness on
your burning chest.
I know nothing else
but that this life
will walk along with me.

When the body perishes,
all perishes;
but the threads of memory
are woven with enduring specks.
I will pick these particles,
weave the threads,
and I will meet you yet again.

Delusional Angel

Daydream delusion,
limousine eyelash,
oh, baby with your pretty face,
drop a tear in my wineglass,
look at those big eyes,
see what you mean to me,
sweet cakes and milkshakes,
I am a delusional angel,
I am a fantasy parade,
I want you to know what I think,
dont want you to guess anymore,
you have no idea where I came from,
we have no idea where we're going,
launched in life,
like branches in the river,
flowing downstream,
caught in the current,
I'll carry you, you'll carry me,
that's how it could be,
don't you know me?
don't you know me by now?

- Poem by the poet by the riverside in 'Before Sunrise'

I have always been deeply moved by this poem and the randomness of it. Even when I had to do a film dissertation early this year, I took this film and the conversations in it for study. It was lovely...watching those beautiful conversations seamlessly blend into one another and flow like satin.

Conversations have always fascinated me. I've always wondered how words always want to get out of us and pin themselves in the air around us, or incept themselves in the minds of people around.

Before Sunrise in that way, has achieved immense success in the way its conversations are structured. You feel so involved with the characters!

Random

If life were easy and decisions were simple, there would be no thrill at all. But there are always certain points in life where one needs to make a choice. The 'two roads diverged in a yellow wood'. Taking a path less trodden is a very very difficult choice. But making that choice is what makes me respect a person.

It is easy to walk till that point and then decide to go in the road that has been walked over by millions of people and follow the mass. But to stand by your gut feeling and go take that road where no one has dared to take, uninfluenced by facts and history, and to just feel that nothing can go wrong- that takes courage and genuinity.

My first film :)

Mami's Memories from Sandhya Ramachandran on Vimeo.

‘Mami’s Memories’ takes us through Janaki Mami’s and Nasreen’s act of cleaning old trunks on a hot afternoon. The village of Illundavoor, where this story is set, still is full of old-world charm and ancient beliefs. Although sons are sent abroad to study and work, and educated daughters roam the streets, the older generation is still holding on to its past. Nasreen represents the changing face of Illundavoor’s society and Janaki mami of its past. As both set out to discover the past and discard selective bits of it, some myths are broken, some beliefs reaffirmed, some more questions are raised… A simple slice-of-life from the village streets…

This film was selected from the Chennai Talent Campus, produced by Cord/Chord Studio and screened in the 4th Chennai International Film Festival.

Once again, Thank you Suresh for the understanding, Pradip for the editing and my family for all the love :)

On a lazy saturday

It is early evening. The stars must slowly be rising from slumber for their night duty. I am looking at some old mails and wondering how much change has been a part of my life.

New words and states of being have entered my life over the past seven years. Such radical changes, such altered behaviour and a new wisdom tooth poking its head as if to authorize all of this.

I wish sometimes chapters of life were written on a word document and stored in a pendrive hung around our neck when we were born. And for a certain amount of times, we must be allowed to rewrite or alter paragraphs and phrases to make amends.

It is actually a decent state I am in, right now. Moderately aloof and disconnected with the world at large. Happy for simple beautiful things. Having certain sensible dreams. An almost-acceptance of being what I am. Few regrets. Few wistful wishes. And a small stash box full of sense and straightforwardness to steer ahead.

It is one of those days meant to be spent cuddled in the room without a thought in the head. But one still can't stop wishing for a distant migrating bird to drop a dream on my lap before I sleep.