Finishing a book, distractions and The Beatles

I feel better now. Yes, I still have two weeks left before another film lands on my lap, but at least I know now for sure that I have a new project coming up.

Weekend was pretty straightforward. I saw 'Cold War', which is a great film btw and I would recommend everyone to watch it. Then I got busy with ''My Writing Work', as I mentioned in my previous blog which comprises of a book( a collection of short stories that I am working on) and a couple of screenplays that I hope to pitch next year.

It's tough. The book's coming out fine. I sent some chapters to a couple of writers and their feedback was pretty great. The problem is how easily I get distracted by other things while writing.

So I am working on the last few chapters of a story about the rise and fall of an actor in 60's Bombay. I am in the mood, writing this raunchy sequence, feeling kinda strange about getting turned on by my own writing, when I get a call from a friend who invites me to his house party.

I lose my train of thought and I can't write anymore. This friend from film school, an editor who is assisting on a really big commercial film btw and is more busy than I am, or at least was busy(before his film's Director was publicly called out in the ''Metoo' scandal for sexually assaulting one of his AD's, causing the film to be stalled for an indefinite amount of time), wants us to come over so that he can complain about his film and how he's stuck with this project.

Losing all my motivation to write, I shift my writing plans to the next day and leave for his house. The local trains in Mumbai are Jam packed on a Saturday evening. There's no place to sit so I stand between two extremely sweaty men who are lecherously looking at a woman uncomfortably standing in front of us. I can't figure out why this woman got on a second class compartment overpacked with men of all shapes and sizes instead of travelling in the ladies compartment. I assume She's probably new in the city and isn't familiar with the Mumbai local train madness. As more men get on our compartment at the next stop, pushing everyone around to find space for themselves, I see the poor woman looking all frightened. I ask her if she's okay and tell her about the ladies Compartment. As I had guessed earlier, this was her first time on a local train and she didnt know  there was a ladies compartment. She takes my suggestion and gets off.

I reach my friend's place and my whole gang's there; a struggling director working on his new short film, a struggling cinematographer ,a struggling actor and a Scriptwriter who, let's face it, will probably be struggling for life, he's a scriptwriter. All of us were batchmates in film school a couple of years back. Now, too busy trying to find our place in the industry, it's difficult  for us to meet as regularly as we used to. All of us had big dreams on how we were going to change the Indian film Industry. Some of us still carry that dream, while some are starting to give up on it, you can see it in their eyes.

 We open our beercans, smoke our joints, discuss new films, listen to some music, talk about women, discuss new gossip about the big names in the Film industry, all the usual stuff.

Reasonably wasted, I take a cab to my house and doze off in the car while listening to The Beatles. I have a strange dream about the Beatles. The cab driver wakes me up when we reach my house and I have trouble recollecting the dream.

I enter my room and I remember this is the second time I've had a dream about the Beatles. The first time I saw them in my dream was a couple of years back and I wrote a 1000 page short story about it, not to write anything profound , but more as a storytelling exercise based on what I could remember from my dream. I take out my laptop and read the story again. It's not that great, but it's got a feel to it. I can somehow relate even more with it now than when I had written it.

That's my next post. The story.

Till then,  Do watch Cold War you guys! Leaving you with an Oscar Wilde quote. Until Next time!

When Life Slows Down

A little more than two months back, I was working day and night on this Bengali English Indie film, my third project as a sound designer after graduating from film school. I was so busy that I was yearning for a break to get away from Mumbai, go back home and spend some time working on my music and writing. By the end of September, I got my wish and rushed back to Gujarat .

When you go from working all the time to suddenly not working at all, you start getting withdrawals. Your body loses all it's energy, you have difficulty going to sleep and you don't feel like doing anything.

My body too, which I had been pushing to it's limits at work with lack of sleep, cigarettes, junk food and alcohol, went through the same symptoms. I was tired but I wasn't able to sleep. I wanted to write but I couldn't.

I told myself that I shouldn't be complaining. This is what I wanted right? I should be grateful I got my break.  I forced myself to ignore the signals of complete exhaustion my body was sending me everyday. So, I started working out, stopped smoking temporarily, gave up on junk food and only ate home cooked healthy food.

Sure enough, in less than two weeks, I felt energetic and fresh again. I still couldn't sleep on time but that was more by choice because I would write or play the guitar at night. Amidst all this, I get a message that the film I had just finished has got a sound designing nomination at Milan International film Festival .

Perfect! That's gonna go in my CV and it'll help me get more work when I go back. I am gonna get  super busy again when I go back to Mumbai, so might as well enjoy my break properly for now.

So when a friend called me regarding some sound designing work for a short film he had just finished, I told him I couldn't come so soon and recommended another friend to him.

I deserved this vacation. Why cut it short for a project? I'll find some other project when I get back.

So I celebrate Diwali with my family and come back to Mumbai and there's no work! No work at all, probably till the first week of December. I've spent all my money. Financial planning hasn't always been my strongest quality.

I start getting those withdrawals again. Being free in Mumbai is neither something I enjoy or am used to. For some reason, Mumbai always depresses me when I am too free. It's weird. I love the city when I am working or busy with something, but if I am not, there's this strong vibe of loneliness flying around you. Meeting or partying with your friends isn't as much fun as it normally is and exploring different areas around the island doesn't feel like a great idea anymore.

"You're a freelancer, you should be expecting this," I tell myself and so I should be. I curse myself for being too cocky and refusing that short film. A couple of days go by and I don't go out much, so I go back to basics.

I convince myself to continue the routine I was following in Gujarat. I spend hours and hours practicing jazz scales on the guitar and spend the rest trying to finish my writing work. Writing everyday is difficult. Sometimes I sit on my laptop, not being able to write a single meaningful sentence, but that's the key to keeping yourself motivated as a writer. You have to write even when you feel you have nothing in your head. You force out a paragraph of garbage from your head and suddenly your mind starts troubleshooting and you're inspired again. Surviving those uninspired moments is key.

Somedays, I go out. On alternate days, I go for a jog.

My landlord is my neighbour. His 95 year old father is always sitting at his doorstep on his wheelchair. Their house looks like a house from another era from the inside, with a 50 year old Grandfather clock, a four poster bed and the biggest ceiling fan I've ever seen.

This is pretty much the conversation the old man and I have everyday;

He asks me how I am and if I am going to work.

I tell him I am good and No, I am not.

He asks me if I am from Baroda in Gujarat.

I say yes.

He says it's a nice place. He bought his car from Vadodara in 1954. He mentions it as if it happened yesterday.

I ask him about his health. He says he's tired of living.

Then he asks me if I'm from Baroda in Gujarat.

I say yes.

He says it's a nice place. He bought his car from Vadodara in 1954. He mentions it as if it happened yesterday.

I say goodbye to him to get out of his time loop. I go out, smoke a cigarette and come back.

He's still at his doorstep.

"How are you?," he says ." Coming back from work? "

I sigh, say yes, rush to my apartment before the Baroda question pops up again, and get back to my guitar.

It's difficult, but it isn't depressing, not now at least. Music is quite a mood changer.I did learn, however, that you don't take long vacations as a newbie in the Mumbai Film industry and I am probably not going to do it again for a few years , but I feel this time on my own is important too and I might as well make the most of it than let depression take over. Work will start again, it has to, sooner or later.

On the bright side, I've noticed this girl who jogs around the same time I do. We run past each other all the time. She's cute. I think I am going to talk to her in a day or two. I've got nothing to lose, so why not?

As I write this, I hear the old man calling me. He calls me Babu because he can never remember my name.

I go to his house and he asks me to get his mobile phone from the othe room, an old model his son bought for him recently. I give him the mobile phone and he puts it in his side table drawer. I talk to my landlord for a bit who has just come back from work and then start going to my room when I hear the old man calling me and asking me to get his phone. I sigh, open his drawer and show him the phone. He cackles with laughter and I leave... " The guy is 95 years old!"