Sunday, December 15, 2013
My play Colour Blind comes to Prithvi Come one, come all!
27th, 28th, 29th December, 6 and 9 pm shows.
Director: Manav Kaul
Cast: Satyajit Sharma, Kalki Koechlin, Swanaand Kirkire, Ajitesh, Neha, Amrita, Me, Avantika, Padma, Chitrangada!
ColourBlind Teaser Video
Monday, December 9, 2013
Friday, November 29, 2013
Good folks in town who plan to run away from the city end of December, do come and watch my play ColourBlind at NCPA on the 5th of December.
Others just come for the shows at Prithvi 27th, 28th, 29th December... Because Prithvi is where the love is!
Director: Manav Kaul.
Cast: Satyajit Sharma, Kalki Koechlin, Swanand Kirkire, Ajitesh, Shivam, Avantika, Chitrangada, Padma, Neha, Amrita, Deep, Avinash.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Friday, October 18, 2013
Let me know what you think about it?
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that's when you met me.
"What... what happened?" You asked. "Where am I?"
"You died," I said, matter-of-factly. No point mincing words.
"There was a... a truck and it was skidding..."
"Yup." I said.
"I... I died?"
"Yup. But don't feel bad about it. Everyone dies." I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. "What is this place?" You asked. "Is this the afterlife?"
"More or less," I said.
"Are you god?" You asked.
"Yup." I replied. "I'm God."
"My kids... my wife," you said.
"What about them?"
"Will they be alright?"
"That's what I like to see," I said. "You just died and your main concern is your family. That's good stuff right there."
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn't look like God. I just looked like some man. Some vague authority figure. More of a a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
"Don't worry," I said. "They'll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn't have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved." "To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it's any consolation, she'll feel very guilty for feeling relieved."
"Oh," you said. "So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?"
"Neither," I said. "You'll be reincarnated."
"Ah," you said. "So the Hindus were right."
"All the religions are right in their own way," I said. "Walk with me."
You followed along as we strolled in the void. "Where are we going?"
"Nowhere in particular," I said. "It's just nice to walk while we talk."
"So what's the point, then?" You asked. "When I get reborn, I'll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won't matter?"
"Not so!" I said. "You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don't remember them right now."
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. "Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It's like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it's hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you've gained all the experiences it had."
"You've been a human for the last 34 years, so you haven't stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for longer, you'd start remembering everything. But there's no point doing that between each life."
"How many times have I been reincarnated then?"
"Oh, lots. Lots and lots. And into lots of different lives." I said. "This time around you'll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 A.D."
"Wait, what?" You stammered. "You're sending me back in time?"
"Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from."
"Where you come from?" You pondered.
"Oh, sure!" I explained. "I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there's others like me. I know you'll want to know what it's like there but you honestly won't understand."
"Oh." You said, a little let down. "But wait, if I get reincarnated to other places in time, could I have interacted with myself at some point?"
"Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own timespan, you don't even know its happening."
"So what's the point of it all?"
"Seriously?" I asked. "Seriously? You're asking me for the meaning of life? Isn't that a little stereotypical?"
"Well, it's a reasonable question." You persisted.
I looked in your eye. "The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature."
"You mean mankind? You want us to mature?"
"No. Just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature, and become a larger and greater intellect."
"Just me? What about everyone else?"
"There is no one else," I said. "In this universe, there's just you, and me."
You stared blankly at me. "But all the people on Earth..."
"All you. Different incarnations of you."
"Wait. I'm everyone!?"
"Now you're getting it." I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
"I'm every human who ever lived?"
"Or who will ever live, yes."
"I'm Abraham Lincoln?"
"And you're John Wilkes Booth." I added.
"I'm Hitler?" You said, appalled.
"And you're the millions he killed."
"And you're everyone who followed him."
You fell silent.
"Every time you victimized someone," I said, "You were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you've done, you've done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you."
"Why?" You asked me. "Why do all this?"
"Because someday, you will become like me. Because that's what you are. You're one of my kind. You're my child."
"Whoa." You said, incredulous. "You mean I'm a god?"
"No. Not yet. You're a fetus You're still growing. Once you've lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born."
"So the whole universe," you said. "It's just..."
"An egg of sorts." I answered. "Now it's time for you to move on to your next life."
And I sent you on your way.
By Anonymous. Transcribed by Mac Davis for Philosophy Circle's reading catalogue.
Monday, October 14, 2013
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Its been a while since I have written something on this blog, all my writing has been focused through my job as a copywriter, and in developing a new script titled ‘Secret Society: Children of Divorce’.
But a very interesting thing that happened for me was during the rehearsals of my new Play ‘Colourblind’ directed by Manav Kaul. (Comes to Mumbai in December)
I play the character of a young writer, and there are parts where he is seen writing in scene. So I decided that instead of doodling and ‘acting’ to write (cos I am such a bad actor!) I am just going to try writing something for real.
Its free writing and most of it was crap, but I am sharing some of the more interesting excerpts from the book where I write.
(Most of it was originally written in Hindi)
I once went to a forest. I walked for hours, went deep inside and when I reached nowhere, I just sat there.
It wasn't a very dense forest, an occasional hiss of a snake, lemurs, peacocks, squirrels... lots of squirrels. Very active, very buzzing- the leaves of the trees there.
But I sat still, unsure of anything, as I usually am.
I don’t know how long it was before the squirrels decided to include me in their play. They ran around, always cautious, yet close enough to let me know what they wanted. I just smiled.
‘I am too old to play your games, too rusted’, but I appreciated the hospitality.
Time blew and something changed. The squirrels, they were running over me, all over. My hands, legs, stomach, face... I was no longer a foreign creature to them. I was a tree.
I felt like a tree, belonging in the forest.
Vines grew from under my feet, covering me in their chill and dirt. And when I was completely engulfed, laden in fruits and flowers, a bird came and sat on my branch. She pecked on my soul, bit a part of it and flew away. Where she flew to, I will never know, but she carries a part of me wherever she goes. I have always loved traveling.
So many years I spent in my other world trying to find a place, offering my sense and soul and everything else I could...
The forest took me in just like that. She took me back to where I came from, into her womb.
Train hille Baul gire!
We were riding to Shantiniketan on a train early morning. A really wonderful journey. It was a 4 hour chair car train, very well kept, plush seats, and the lovely autumn Bengal landscape rushing by reminded those who had been to Europe, of Europe. A real compliment to the humble deprived outskirts!
Two hours into the journey, the gates of our bogi opened up to a bright orange clad figure. Ah! The great Bauls of Bengal, the legend had arrived. We instantly brushed away our sleepy faces and put our tourist best on, welcoming him with cheers and claps. Then someone quickly reminded us ‘Shadhu’ is how they roll in Shantiniketan, and so did we.
He sang, we cheered... sorry, shadhu’d... danced and passed funny comments... it was a real celebration!
He sang about three songs, collected an awful load of money (Oh, we have some real patrons of art in our group, I myself gave 50 bucks, 50 fucking bucks!) and left. Just as we settled, another one came. Rumor had spread across the train, we were here and we paid.
He sang about 3 songs again, the same songs as the previous guy, 2 of them at least. Joy was in the air, so we played along again. He earned a little less compared to the previous one and left.
I noticed how the locals were not as enthused at the ‘baul’ery and I kept thinking... its obvious, they see this everyday. On the other hand, maybe that's the problem... there is joy and magic all around us but we have become desensitized to it. I never revel so at the songs of the local singers in Mumbai. Maybe I should... of course the Bauls are more special and have so much folklore attached to them...
By the time I was done thinking, the third guy entered, repeating one of the songs... ‘taka lagbe naa...’
A local guy sitting behind me just couldn't take it anymore. He burst out saying ‘See, that is why I don’t give them money anymore. They are just doing this for money, they keep singing the same songs. The same songs over and over again...’
While my dear co actor sitting next to him nodded her head in agreement, I turned to him and thought to myself... ‘Saala, 20 rupaye dekar Baul ka saara gyaan paa lena chahte ho’.
Woh: Arre, yahaan akele khade khade kiss baat par has rahe ho?
Mein : Bas, aise hi...
Woh: Aise hi? Chalo yahaan se... log samjhenge pagal ho gaye ho...
Mein: Pagal ko agar log samajh te toh dikkat hi kya thi.
Iss jagah se guzaraa toh aisa lagaa ki bhagwaan akele mein rehte hai... veeraane mein. Yahaan bhagwaan zaroor honge. Iss liye maine bike se utar kar ek tasveer kheench li, bhagwaan ki.
Ek ajeeb si bhakti dil mein jaagi... bhagwaan ko paane ka mann kiya. Main aapko bataa doon apne 23 saal ke jeevan mein bahut kam aisa hua hai ki bhagwaan ko lekar kuch bhi karne ka mann kiya ho. Mein thodi derr wahaan khadaa raha aur phir rehearsal ka samay ho gayaa...
Apni lines bolna shuru kiya toh ek baar phir... wahi bhagwaan ko dekhne ki ichcha jaagi.
Aisa khayaal aaya ki mein apne abhinaya mein bhagwaan dekhnaa chahta hoon. Ek natak mein sunaa tha ki bhagwaan sach hai, aur maaya bhi...
Bas... ek baar aisa abhinaya karna chahtaa hoon ki kahaani ki maaya ko sach mein badal sakoon aur uske sach ko apne abhinaya ki maaye mein ghol doon. Mushkil hai... mushkil hai... par karne ki ichchaa rakhta hoon... ek dinn...
About a Man
He flew Between this and that
He was time
New every moment
Once gone, gone
He was life
I lived him
While he was mine
I still dream of filling him
But who can own time
She rose up to him starting at his feet. She took three months to come up to his face. And when she did, she she shed a tear over his lips. He parted them and drank in.
Then, he turned her over and started to go down.
She held him and said... ‘No, not now. Not until you want it so bad that you tie me down and then do what you want, without a care for what I am. Only then will I have deserved you. Until then, I will only give.’
Hey, its free writing.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Get a stupid woman to love you.
Stupid women are stupid, and love to love.
Their love, you don't have to earn it. No, don't bother to deserve it.
They will give without asking. Anything.
Don't worry, fuck every random whore you meet. They aren't stupid, they will ask for something. You will give everything. Go crazy, horny, giving.
The stupid woman will find a reason to justify you for you. She will love you still. Forever, with all her heart, which is stupid like her, so don't feel guilty about breaking it. Continue using her.
There isn't a better lottery.
Get a stupid woman, yeah?!
Friday, June 7, 2013
He walked past
I let it go
Then came a woman. A woman, for
I said nothing
Then another, another
Yes, gender didn't matter anymore
And as the Old man walked by
It was known. They were all the same
Men, women, young and old, children
Something had to be done
I had had it till up here!
So as I spotted next person
Happened to be pretty girl in blue
I didn't let that deter me!
Walking in my direction
Placed both my feet on the ground
Firmly, my shoes made a sqilchy sound
I didn't let that deter me!
I looked into her eyes, looked deep
Cos times like this, words are not enough
'Watch it miss' Roared I
'And all you other fucks
Handle with care,
The lethal weapon
You walk around carelessly
Don't you know?
With great power, comes great responsibility'
I could hear me breathe
Way above the rain
But I have a feeling
That's not why she said nothing
And walked away
Tugging at her Raincoat
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Then there is mine, doubt before any thing, for all that she Could for all that I am.
In exchange of words, my blood
Now empty veins carry only thoughts
And thoughts become things, not senses
Now I can only remember her face which cringes every time my fingers touch hers. Now I can only think about assuming the power she puts upon me when she is on her knees. Only dream about climbing the mountain within her. Only want to offer any thing. I can recognise but pray. I am part man part being nothing.
Some day I will hold you and fuck you till you give up your pretenses. She said it over the phone when she read this.
That black dress slit from the back, where I slide in from face first and then the whole body, entwine hers starting from the stomach I go around her upwards between her breasts reaching her forehead meanwhile arms strangling hers then crawling all the way down to her feet making her lose balance, all of it under that dress, intact only slit from the back.