Thursday, January 12, 2012
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Chemical Locha
Charlie Kaufman: [voiceover] Do I have an original thought in my head? My bald head. Maybe if I were happier, my hair wouldn’t be falling out. Life is short. I need to make the most of it. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I’m a walking cliché. I really need to go to the doctor and have my leg checked. There’s something wrong. A bump. The dentist called again. I’m way overdue. If I stop putting things off, I would be happier. All I do is sit on my fat ass. If my ass wasn’t fat I would be happier. I wouldn’t have to wear these shirts with the tails out all the time. Like that’s fooling anyone. Fat ass. I should start jogging again. Five miles a day. Really do it this time. Maybe rock climbing. I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a girlfriend. I need to read more, improve myself. What if I learned Russian or something? Or took up an instrument? I could speak Chinese. I’d be the screenwriter who speaks Chinese and plays the oboe. That would be cool. I should get my hair cut short. Stop trying to fool myself and everyone else into thinking I have a full head of hair. How pathetic is that? Just be real. Confident. Isn’t that what women are attracted to? Men don’t have to be attractive. But that’s not true. Especially these days. Almost as much pressure on men as there is on women these days. Why should I be made to feel I have to apologize for my existence? Maybe it’s my brain chemistry. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me. Bad chemistry. All my problems and anxiety can be reduced to a chemical imbalance or some kind of misfiring synapses. I need to get help for that. But I’ll still be ugly though. Nothing’s gonna change that.
Labels:
Whims
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Wander-lost
Fighting for the cause of freedom, I want to carry on but there's only shadow
Wanting to give meaning to my life, I want to create but the mind is too narrow
Taking the flight of fantasy, I want to fly but the sky seems too shallow
I aspire to concentrate like Arjun, but I have lost the eye of the sparrow
Wanting to give meaning to my life, I want to create but the mind is too narrow
Taking the flight of fantasy, I want to fly but the sky seems too shallow
I aspire to concentrate like Arjun, but I have lost the eye of the sparrow
.....
Labels:
Poetry
Monday, June 21, 2010
Creative Crap
That day A & J discussed practicality and feasibility. It had been a couple of months for their creative ideas gone directionless. The room was full of smoke, with a psycho gone on a rampage in the background. Both liked the extremist in its full color but they were also arguing over something.
They thought and they fought
They fought but they wrote.
Cut To:
INT. Room—Night
J(puffing)
Just a little fine-tuning and mark
my words “It will rock-It will rock, man”
A
But can’t we still work on something
unique, never done before stuff?
This thing we just talked, its been shown all over.
J(mocking)
Unique! Unique (huh)
Listen man, there’s got no taker
for your unique idea. Be practical. Give
the fuckers what they want and we got
an entire life to explore uniqueness
A
But that’s not how I work.
I am not here to be just another attention
hungry parasite. I left everything so that
I could give something meaningful
J
Its too difficult to make you understand, man.
Masala! Give them masala. And we can experiment
if only we got something behind us.
The temperature of the room had gone higher. The psycho had hung himself but not before claiming his final victim. There was uneasiness but it wasn’t uncommon. Both had this show-down on a daily basis.
A
If this story has to work
all of them got to die.
J
But why death? Its so easy to kill than
to make an impact keeping something alive.
Death is the first resort of creative impotents.
A
Happy ending never happens in real life and
this reality you calling impotence, has to be shown
as it is. This story will only look meaningful only if all of
them die. As such they die piecemeal, every fucking day
J
By the way nobody gives a fuck even to story.
The availability and date of the star is the key.
And since us being new, fucking producer will put
a limit to the budget. Nobody risks money on a newbie
unless you are well plugged and has sucked their ball for
too long.
They had smoked away their cigarettes and they badly needed tea. It was 3.30 in the morning and they knew Lokhandwala circle was calling.
EXT. Road Night
While on the road they kept arguing the story, they kept fighting on the whats and hows of the industry they were in.
J
You start writing this and this will
be our ticket to the big thing.
Bloody, we got something none other has.
A
Everyone around has got something J,
but the real thing is how you present it and how
you execute it. If we start with something like we
just discussed, we will be labeled and I
don’t want that to happen.
J
The world doesn’t run on what you want
and what you don’t. There’s been defined
a procedure for everything. And these rebels look good
only after they have success, it’s so killing in real life.
A
It’s not about being rebel, it’s about being you.
They finally get to the pan-shop and order 2 cutting special and chaiwala hands them over their respective brand of cigarettes.
EXT. Pan Shop Night
A
How many do you think consider
art as art and not as business. So few J, so
very few and this is where lies our chance
J
I understand what you are trying to say but still
it has to have something that confirms to their
thinking. If you take a sensational subject, something
they have never heard before, it will be difficult for them
to digest. That’s why saying just do this project first and we
can only negotiate after we’ve delivered something
A
It all boils down to choice J and if we fail to choose
this time, I am afraid all life we’ll have to compromise.
J
Just cut the crap, we are going to show all of them
in a hospital fighting for life and you are writing the
entire body now. Just finish this stuff and I’ll show you
the way where our choice shall matter.
They finish the tea and take a walk back home. As usual somewhat unfinished but mostly charged. They write, they write and in next few hours finish what they had been arguing. Finally they both had agreed on the overall flow of the work. They both are happy and know that their work has the might to stand the test of time. But how far it goes only future will tell.
..
They thought and they fought
They fought but they wrote.
Cut To:
INT. Room—Night
J(puffing)
Just a little fine-tuning and mark
my words “It will rock-It will rock, man”
A
But can’t we still work on something
unique, never done before stuff?
This thing we just talked, its been shown all over.
J(mocking)
Unique! Unique (huh)
Listen man, there’s got no taker
for your unique idea. Be practical. Give
the fuckers what they want and we got
an entire life to explore uniqueness
A
But that’s not how I work.
I am not here to be just another attention
hungry parasite. I left everything so that
I could give something meaningful
J
Its too difficult to make you understand, man.
Masala! Give them masala. And we can experiment
if only we got something behind us.
The temperature of the room had gone higher. The psycho had hung himself but not before claiming his final victim. There was uneasiness but it wasn’t uncommon. Both had this show-down on a daily basis.
A
If this story has to work
all of them got to die.
J
But why death? Its so easy to kill than
to make an impact keeping something alive.
Death is the first resort of creative impotents.
A
Happy ending never happens in real life and
this reality you calling impotence, has to be shown
as it is. This story will only look meaningful only if all of
them die. As such they die piecemeal, every fucking day
J
By the way nobody gives a fuck even to story.
The availability and date of the star is the key.
And since us being new, fucking producer will put
a limit to the budget. Nobody risks money on a newbie
unless you are well plugged and has sucked their ball for
too long.
They had smoked away their cigarettes and they badly needed tea. It was 3.30 in the morning and they knew Lokhandwala circle was calling.
EXT. Road Night
While on the road they kept arguing the story, they kept fighting on the whats and hows of the industry they were in.
J
You start writing this and this will
be our ticket to the big thing.
Bloody, we got something none other has.
A
Everyone around has got something J,
but the real thing is how you present it and how
you execute it. If we start with something like we
just discussed, we will be labeled and I
don’t want that to happen.
J
The world doesn’t run on what you want
and what you don’t. There’s been defined
a procedure for everything. And these rebels look good
only after they have success, it’s so killing in real life.
A
It’s not about being rebel, it’s about being you.
They finally get to the pan-shop and order 2 cutting special and chaiwala hands them over their respective brand of cigarettes.
EXT. Pan Shop Night
A
How many do you think consider
art as art and not as business. So few J, so
very few and this is where lies our chance
J
I understand what you are trying to say but still
it has to have something that confirms to their
thinking. If you take a sensational subject, something
they have never heard before, it will be difficult for them
to digest. That’s why saying just do this project first and we
can only negotiate after we’ve delivered something
A
It all boils down to choice J and if we fail to choose
this time, I am afraid all life we’ll have to compromise.
J
Just cut the crap, we are going to show all of them
in a hospital fighting for life and you are writing the
entire body now. Just finish this stuff and I’ll show you
the way where our choice shall matter.
They finish the tea and take a walk back home. As usual somewhat unfinished but mostly charged. They write, they write and in next few hours finish what they had been arguing. Finally they both had agreed on the overall flow of the work. They both are happy and know that their work has the might to stand the test of time. But how far it goes only future will tell.
..
Labels:
Whims
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
