Its funny I am saying all this when all along up until now I had compromised my energies for creating commercial logos and branding (which is always explained as something much beyond a logo) for rich companies, building graphic guidelines and things exquisitely called brand driver platforms. Although it did sting once in a while I always thought of (and also owned!) sports-cars with 6-speed transmission (I remember telling people that being in an Audi TT was like sitting in a cockpit), black and white minimalist Armani XL wristwatches, Paul Smith trousers (with that really gorgeous multi-coloured band that would stick out for people to see), Prada slippers and the very assumably not-in-your-face red strip with the Prada type offset to the left, the black CK underwear (oh, you could be clever and rest your hand on your hips in such a way that the Calvin Klein type could be readable to your fellow designer-conscious graphic designer friends). All very carefully crafted for the conscious pretty-faced consumer. I would walk into the boutique shopping malls with 500 dollars in my pocket knowing I was going to spend it, but not knowing on what. Its funny when I think about it now but it makes sense why I named my folder on my macpro Lavish. Ha! Its all adding up now. My subconscious mind was housing all this information and distilling it slowly through my fingertips as they pixellated my innermost fantasies. And I didn’t even know. My parents thought I was progress-personified. I lived in a housing complex called Greens where everything right from the lakes to the palm trees was man-made. Anything was possible in this wonderful fantasy world. It was every middle-class Indian’s dream to be part of a society that had its own private Costa’s, its own private swimming pool surrounded by trees. I remember texting my brother about my uber-cool lifestyle when I was lazing around in the pool in my Ripcurl swimming trunks. I used to take my Tarkovsky Sculpting in time book to the pool hoping to accidentally bump into a pretty girl who knew his films and didn’t think he was a famous medieval classical composer. Alas, it never happened. What was I thinking, God only knows. Now when I look back I can laugh. I was still sensitive back then, though. I had my own upright piano, an Eastern-european piano teacher and a filipino piano-tuner called Jun. I went through it all. I expected to find real happiness in buying all of Tori Amos’s piano transcriptions and working out my favourite songs. Unfortunately, I never got around to spending too much time on the piano. Was I in favourable environments? What was my motivation? I wonder.
I guess there was an innocence in the futile acquisition of things big and small. Of things beautifully designed, sensitively crafted. Before I bought my car I made sure the rims on the tires were the 19” ones and not the 17” ones. Attention to detail, eh? Talking of attention to detail, I remember spending hours and hours crafting the logo of Uptown Cairo, a 7000-home township in Cairo for the super rich. I came up with this really clever idea of positioning it as a fashion brand so people could associate their lifestyle with, say, Giorgio Armani or YSL. The brandmark was also inspired by the YSL insignia. A very sophisticated CA would drive the brand by appearing on cufflinks, shopping bags and 80ft billboards. Black and white with an accent of fuchsia-pink. It looked really nice I must say. But, wow, its hard now to understand my dedication towards something so trivial. The hours spent creating the brand driver platform, the hours spent sifting through images in Getty and Corbis containing the tags sophisticated, class, up-market, quintessential, etc. I browsed through thousands of images downloading comps of the ones that matched my verbal brand driver “Uptown Chic”. I also created a little film in flash with the music of Air. How sensitive I was as a commercial graphic designer. Did I somehow avoid questioning this or was I just too caught up in wondering what to buy next? When I think back now I really wonder what my real motivation was. On the other hand, I had to keep the social and artistic cylinders of my heart constantly full by having screenings of Bergman, Tarkovsky, Kurosawa films (and post-screening discussions) in my apartment. I felt this somehow made up for all the shit I was doing in my day-job. I constantly lived in that sense of denial that hey I wasn’t really doing too bad in the self-realisation department. I rarely asked myself the question, “Are you being true to yourself?”. Actually I don’t think I ever even thought of that. I was too busy drinking Belgian beer with friends, discussing Ermenegildo Zegna’s fall collection of men’s suits, smoking cuban cigars, making sure my 100 dollar Terre-de-Hermes cologne found its way through the smoke-infested interiors of the post-modern Blue Bar or the David Lynch-inspired Cooz Bar in the Hilton. These were the things that constantly were on my mind. I was the cool graphic designer working with the best Branding agency in town hanging out with really pretty women, some of them Mexican, some Lebanese, some French, some even as exotic as half-Danish/half-Rwandan. I constantly sent photos to my friends back in India, me in my Stone Temple Pilots T-shirt and brown Mexx leather jacket (with the minimalist red interior satin lining) hanging out with super-gorgeous women, their arms all over me. Oh, how satisfied I felt. This, for me, was the summation, the ultimate realisation of what I constantly strived for. It was me climaxing in the social circus. I was up there. As the night was coming to a close the only question on my mind was whether I was going to flash my Gold or Platinum credit card when the cheque came. Or maybe I was too drunk to think of anything at all.
In 2004, I began documenting my thoughts on a blog I called Scalable Deficit. Deficit is defined in the dictionary as being “the amount by which something, esp. a sum of money, is too small”. Ironically, subconsciously, I must have been talking of that something as being the soul, and not money. Quite an apt title, now when I think of it. I had to write what I felt. I had to be honest. I knew I was doing something wrong in my life. My life, for sure, was lacking something. Something real. Which is why the words came so easily. I needed to vent.
I give up
Its a horrible day. Never felt so alone. I think I am a bonafide misanthrope. The sound of the human voice drives me to insanity. Its all opinion right? Everything is. "Have you been to the packaging and promotions section of the website? You might want to check that out." No, I don't want to check that out. Its all bollocks anyway. Who fuckin cares? These people can stuff their opinions on advertising and how cool it is up their... My heart is filled with Castrol. I am a commodity. I am a whore. Famewhore. I am a sellout. I have nothing to contribute to society. I sell lies. I sell mouthwash. There are no stories I can tell my grandchildren. I am the lost rays of a forgotten sunrise. I am all that I never dreamed of being. Plastic and cute, all the way.
Monday, March 07, 2005
The turning point for me was when I made my film “Look here, Kunigunda” which was a kind of visual poetry with no words. Having a film-club was good because I met quite a few interesting people like Mark, the hero of my film, Siobhan, the heroine and Nick, whose camera I finally used to shoot the film. So, I guess that was an important turn of events. It made me realise that beyond the glitz and glamour of the design industry, there was a world of realism in the artistic expression through film, a kind of vocation that maybe I could pursue.
Oh, I remember this lovely little poem.
Once the poem leaves your fingertips
it is no longer yours.
It acquires new shapes
in the eyes of others.
All art rides on the vehicle of opinion. This is where the author is at his weakest, vulnerable most. At that point of time, the author either waits patiently for comments (diplomatically conveyed), honest criticism, praise or love. I have always been the sucker for compliments. This receiver of love. Accepting everything good like I deserved it, running from those who fail to think like me. Atleast when you are creating artwork without the business hat on you can choose to be elitist and ignore what people think and decide to keep at it inspite of all the negative feedback. If you honestly feel for what you do, why should you care what others think. Results are not really in your hands. Maybe someday they will get it, maybe they wont and maybe you will be written off as the weird one that no one got. Who knows.
But, its different when you’re creative expression is at the mercy of a client or, even worse, a blonde Lebanese client-servicing executive who seems to have the final word on your artistic expression. It has happened to me many times. I could be sitting there with my headphones blasting Godspeed, you black emperor, working on an advertising campaign for a very large client like American Express when suddenly I could be interrupted with something like this:-
“We just presented the work to the client. It went down very well. Instead of the black and white photographs, can we see an option with colour photographs? The client was not too happy with the font you used, can we just stick to, say, a Helvetica? Or even Verdana? The client really likes Verdana? So, two options, one with Helvetica, one with Verdana? Can you increase the size of the logo and can we have FREE written in caps, and maybe in red? Other than this its all fine. Well done, Prem. Your a star. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour to fix this, right? Shall I arrange to meet them tomorrow, in the a.m.?”
Lina, the beautiful Lebanese client-servicing executive disappears saying she needs to run into another meeting in five (she probably needs those five minutes to do her eyes). I sit looking at my monitor not really knowing what hit me. But I try to calm down by going to the pantry to make myself a strong Nescafe in my own branded coffee cup. It all boils down to this. These are the moments that really make you go “WOW”. And little did I know it would get a lot worse than this.
Turquoise boy
No?
I say no to corporate magazines. I say no 9am meetings. I say no to 9-5. I say no to cubicles. I say no to annual reports. I say no to tea-parties. I say no to sushi lunches. I say no to group hugs. I say no to the ladder. I say no to the institution. I say no to institutional leeches (who use the ladder). I say no to team-building picnics. But I still sit here in my cubicle, staring at a computer screen designing and branding corporate institutions. Fuckin hypocrite, I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up cos I am saying yes, secretly.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
In 2006, a branding consultancy called Turquoise headhunted me and offered me a job as Senior Designer in their London offices. It was a very exciting time. I always wanted to live in London, one of the three cultural Mecca's of the world. Turquoise was run by three women, the superpowers of the new world. The Creative Director, the senior designers, the designers were like little poodles on their lap or like lilliput men stuck in their hair. The studio was in a converted Victorian building in the very very expensive Holborn area. To keep up with my exquisite Dubai lifestyle I took up a tiny (like really tiny) studio apartment in Notting Hill for an insanely exorbitant rent. Why? I wanted to tell everyone I was living in Notting Hill, just like Hugh Grant. I also made it a point to tell everyone how much the rent was, which in Indian rupees was about one hundred thousand rupees a month. Er... I didn’t realise the coming one year would be me selling out completely in the corporate world, but also the year where I would write my most honest music to date. So, once again, I managed to offset the humdrum of the branding world with a sincere artistic expression through music.
Turquoise really started to kill me. I was dying a slow death in the Sylvia Plath sense of the word. By the end of six months, I had lost every bit of soul left. I lost a lot of weight too. My artistic and social cylinders were running dry. I had nothing to say. So, I started walking the streets of London alone. I began discovering a lot of new music, new artists, new films. I went to exhibitions in the TATE, Whitechapel Gallery and Serpentine regularly and began spending my money acquiring the paraphernalia of the artists I loved. Pierre Huyghe’s “Celebration Park” and Fischli & Weiss’s “Flowers & Questions” really inspired me to look within and find my own voice and make the exit from corporatism quietly. Like those signs in concert halls that read “Please leave quietly”.
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
To think that I was all these things...
I constantly went after the latest Paul Smith perfume, the latest Paul Smith trousers with the little multi-coloured stripes sticking out so people could see, the Paul Smith hat, the oh-how-cool-it-is black and white Giorgio Armani watch, the Audi TT with the 19" alloy wheels (17" wasn't good enough), the Prada sunglasses (but it didn't have the red Prada strip so I was disappointed - but instead I coloured my hair red to show people how cool I was), the CK underwear, the Ikea furniture and its funny spellings. I had to get my hands on the new Adidas limited edition shoes with the lovely green laces and the 1971 Mexico emblem.
And now when I look back at all this I laugh. I guess I have grown up. A little. But I am only scratching at the surface. The journey starts here, more or less.
And now when I look back at all this I laugh. I guess I have grown up. A little. But I am only scratching at the surface. The journey starts here, more or less.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Touch
God doesn't really bother revealing himself to many people.
Every creator has creations he likes, and creations he doesn't really care for. A painter would have works which he would consider un-100%. A songwriter, in a time of need, would write radio-friendly tunes to make some money. The artist would do a branding job to sustain himself. This theory, I think, applies to God too. So, in that context, what happens. There is greed, politics, war, bureaucracy, and all those things negative and stifling to the human race. The human race. Those he reveals himself to have certain jobs to do while they are here among you and me. They stand up, they start revolutions, they achieve independence of their own and of their country. Gandhi had a job to do. Krishnamurti had teachings to share, schools to found. Mother Teresa had people to help. Fidel Castro had an entire country depending on him, as did Gandhi. The Dalai Lama is here for a reason. So, all these people have had contact with God in some form or the other. There is also the other tier of people working at the grass-roots level. Like Lakshmikutty teacher in Wayanad. She sold her property to build a school for tribal children and also took it upon herself to fight for them when they are exploited by the materialists. There is the doctor in Atapadi who walks the streets everyday, going to the villagers homes and treating them for free. These people are among us. They are doing selfless work because there is a hidden force guiding them. I think that is God. But I am quite certain the percentage of people that God has chosen to touch is quite negligible. But when you are touched, He will reveal himself to you in all his living supernatural glory. He will look at you from the hearts of the simple folk, He will look at you from pine trees on cloud-covered mountains, He will look at you from the edge of the ocean, He will look at you through sunset. And that's when you will look. Inwards. And begin your work, silently. No hoopla, fan-fare free. :)
Every creator has creations he likes, and creations he doesn't really care for. A painter would have works which he would consider un-100%. A songwriter, in a time of need, would write radio-friendly tunes to make some money. The artist would do a branding job to sustain himself. This theory, I think, applies to God too. So, in that context, what happens. There is greed, politics, war, bureaucracy, and all those things negative and stifling to the human race. The human race. Those he reveals himself to have certain jobs to do while they are here among you and me. They stand up, they start revolutions, they achieve independence of their own and of their country. Gandhi had a job to do. Krishnamurti had teachings to share, schools to found. Mother Teresa had people to help. Fidel Castro had an entire country depending on him, as did Gandhi. The Dalai Lama is here for a reason. So, all these people have had contact with God in some form or the other. There is also the other tier of people working at the grass-roots level. Like Lakshmikutty teacher in Wayanad. She sold her property to build a school for tribal children and also took it upon herself to fight for them when they are exploited by the materialists. There is the doctor in Atapadi who walks the streets everyday, going to the villagers homes and treating them for free. These people are among us. They are doing selfless work because there is a hidden force guiding them. I think that is God. But I am quite certain the percentage of people that God has chosen to touch is quite negligible. But when you are touched, He will reveal himself to you in all his living supernatural glory. He will look at you from the hearts of the simple folk, He will look at you from pine trees on cloud-covered mountains, He will look at you from the edge of the ocean, He will look at you through sunset. And that's when you will look. Inwards. And begin your work, silently. No hoopla, fan-fare free. :)
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Herd mentality describes how people are influenced by their peers to adopt certain behaviors, follow trends, and/or purchase items. Examples of the herd mentality include the early adopters of high technology products such as cell phones and iPods, as well as stock market trends, fashions in apparel, cars, home décor, etc. Social psychologists study the related topics of group intelligence, crowd wisdom, and decentralized decision making.
People in these herds are broken up into two groups, explains Friedrich Nietzsche, a philosopher who coined the phrase. One lended itself to the religious points of views- their beliefs and how those dictated their actions- while the other lended itself to influence by the media- more liberal and based upon what others perceive as 'right' (following trends, social norms, etc.).
Herd mentality results in the slow and gradual decay of not just our tiny circle of society, but the whole of humanity as we see it today. And to quote Ms. Rand,
"Throughout the centuries there were men who took first steps down new roads armed with nothing but their own vision."
People in these herds are broken up into two groups, explains Friedrich Nietzsche, a philosopher who coined the phrase. One lended itself to the religious points of views- their beliefs and how those dictated their actions- while the other lended itself to influence by the media- more liberal and based upon what others perceive as 'right' (following trends, social norms, etc.).
Herd mentality results in the slow and gradual decay of not just our tiny circle of society, but the whole of humanity as we see it today. And to quote Ms. Rand,
"Throughout the centuries there were men who took first steps down new roads armed with nothing but their own vision."
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Reminders
Visit Dharamsala, visit Bookworm, hang out near Mr. DL, visit Dharamkot, get psychotropic, drift away
Visit Manali from there, black-out, then take the Rohtang La to Leh, see, smell, think, feel
Visit Varanasi (again!), begin learning the Sarod, walk the streets, sit in boats, wash clothes on the Ganges, observe, experience, listen
Visit the Bishnois, find out the 29 pearls, sit, learn, learn, learn
Visit Santiniketan, delve a little deeper into Tagore, hang with the Bauls, listen listen (maybe) jam?
Visit Kolkata, listen to people talk about politics, art, literature, walk the alleyways, sit under Howrah, look, really look (not see)
Visit Nagaland, check out the Naga metal scene, curiously look into the world of headhunters, remember not to panic
Document everything - write, draw, film, photograph (both digital and lomo) click click click.
Pointers for the year ahead... :)
Visit Manali from there, black-out, then take the Rohtang La to Leh, see, smell, think, feel
Visit Varanasi (again!), begin learning the Sarod, walk the streets, sit in boats, wash clothes on the Ganges, observe, experience, listen
Visit the Bishnois, find out the 29 pearls, sit, learn, learn, learn
Visit Santiniketan, delve a little deeper into Tagore, hang with the Bauls, listen listen (maybe) jam?
Visit Kolkata, listen to people talk about politics, art, literature, walk the alleyways, sit under Howrah, look, really look (not see)
Visit Nagaland, check out the Naga metal scene, curiously look into the world of headhunters, remember not to panic
Document everything - write, draw, film, photograph (both digital and lomo) click click click.
Pointers for the year ahead... :)
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Thoughts from Wayanad (4-9 August, 09)
4/8
Back on a journey to Wayanad. Not expecting anything. In the bus, around Mysore, I experienced an intense sense of lightness. A text to Bijoy read -
"Man, I'm experiencing an intense and overwhelming sense of happiness. Something has entered. Its like time, fear, longing, sorrow are things of the past. Like being a quiet observer. Wish we were in it together seeing and learning, not judging. Wow. Feels great. Paradigm shift in its most basic sense."
It was quite something. And listening to Reich, reading some JK. Spot on. All connected. Like a rewiring of the brain. I think this maybe what I have been looking for all my life. Jiji picked me up from Mananthawadi. It was like we were meeting a day later. True, sort of, kinship. He told no one at the shop about my arrival. Lovely to surprise Jamesettan, Benny and Gautam. They were so happy. Felt like a homecoming, laughing, govoreeting. Such a lovely energy in this wonderful town. Its funny no one from the city seems so real, so unpolluted, so real to themselves. JK's words ring true here. Live examples of his teachings. God is great. Thanks to him I am now walking the visceral path.
Thoughts saved in my phone:
"Food, clothing, shelter" - A set of films about people from the Hinterland like Benny, Josettan, Jamesettan. Happy. Content with what they have, the basic food, clothing, shelter. Could be an interesting juxtaposition to the materialistic tendencies of the middle - upper middle class.
Do not renew thought, cancel all subscriptions now.
Muthuraj
At the shop, I finally met and spoke to Muthu, the drinker (thinker!). He had just downed a pint of rum, a regular activity behind the opposite bank. He spoke of his rather unfortunate existence. Over 50, unmarried, abandoned from his parents and siblings in Trivandrum living in an abject state of poverty, but having enough to buy a bottle of cheap booze daily. And over the years, it doesn't hit him anymore, intoxication and such things of the past. He told us about his strange experiences with a hypnotic pickpocketer who twice picked his wallet by making him go to sleep. He also spoke about not having had a single friend or anyone to talk to sincerely for over 8 years. Living in the absolutes of silence and alcohol, disconnected from everything. Strange. Asked him if I could film him and he said he wasn't special and didnt have anything special to say. I took some photos of him which will one day go into my book - "The Quiet Observer".
Back in the serenity of the house on the hill, Jiji and me opened a few beers. I sent some x-genome. Blast-off. We spoke of so many things from the lack of soul in most people to commitment. A lot of fun. Earlier, we went to meet the mad Paris Mohan at his place closeby. He is too caught up in himself, its hard to be around people like him. I always have the urge to tell him "a good man is a great listener". We spoke of his pretty maid, who has been unlucky, stuck with a drunkard. Very sophisticated but alas. What would life have been if she was married to a cultured, real human being. Hmm...
6/8
So, Jiji and me decided to go to the One-teacher Alternative school in the hill. Mathanchettan joined us. It was quite stunning, this small structure set against a marvellous mountain backdrop. Something bit Jiji's feet. Mathanchettan walked into some bushes and plucked some turmeric that Jiji pasted onto the bite. People of the earth, really. "Inspiring, something I would have no clue of", my cityhead realises as I quietly observe. The kids were a bit nervous, at first, to see us, the people from the otherworld. As soon as I got the camera out, it was a whole different scene as everyone wanted to be in it, laughing, jumping, pushing. Very refreshing to see this innocence, still uncorrupt by the commercial world. Took lots of photos (which will go into the book?), and filmed them eating their kanji and payar. There were two striking girls. One seemed like Bhagawati, one like Kali. Two faces of the same person. Both such beautiful faces. Wonder what it is that makes one child smile and laugh and another frown. Could be an interesting study, eh?
7/8
Nature is the essence and the landscape of the heart.
Its truth, its oneness is its harmony with the trees, the birds, the rivers, the lakes, the sea, the sky, the clouds, the stars. Over time as one is influenced and preconditioned by the two pillars of society, ie parents and teachers, the poor vulnerable heart gradually loses all sense of realism. The heart then, controlled by the mind, is taught to dissolve into an infinite grid of the second-grade, of monotony, of the dullness of acquisition, of the expanses of greed, of wanting to be this and that - to compete. The mind now begins to think like a machine, not questioning, not probing, not asking. It quietly works within a mechanical pattern and follows presets. This pattern eventually kills that landscape.
When will all pre-existant, pre-conditioned, preset thought end? When will the real observation begin, when will the real meditation begin, when will the real introspection begin? When? In time, now is the only choice you have. The landscape is waiting to be discovered.
----
Visited Mathanchettans gorgeous 10-acre property nestled right in the heart of the forest. Quiet, real quiet. The apt place for "Hinterland". So Jiji and me made a business plan to propose to "we dont know who". And a secret voice inside me tells me to give up all motive, give up the silly pursuit of these things. But, no, hinterland is special, its important. Its my responsibility to the next generation, our only link to the future. All JK-inspired.
8/8
Funny how Gautambhai heard my "Vertigo" ringtone and immediately felt it was the Koyaanisqatsi theme. Classical music, basically. Bernard Herrman vs Philip Glass. Hmm...
Back on a journey to Wayanad. Not expecting anything. In the bus, around Mysore, I experienced an intense sense of lightness. A text to Bijoy read -
"Man, I'm experiencing an intense and overwhelming sense of happiness. Something has entered. Its like time, fear, longing, sorrow are things of the past. Like being a quiet observer. Wish we were in it together seeing and learning, not judging. Wow. Feels great. Paradigm shift in its most basic sense."
It was quite something. And listening to Reich, reading some JK. Spot on. All connected. Like a rewiring of the brain. I think this maybe what I have been looking for all my life. Jiji picked me up from Mananthawadi. It was like we were meeting a day later. True, sort of, kinship. He told no one at the shop about my arrival. Lovely to surprise Jamesettan, Benny and Gautam. They were so happy. Felt like a homecoming, laughing, govoreeting. Such a lovely energy in this wonderful town. Its funny no one from the city seems so real, so unpolluted, so real to themselves. JK's words ring true here. Live examples of his teachings. God is great. Thanks to him I am now walking the visceral path.
Thoughts saved in my phone:
"Food, clothing, shelter" - A set of films about people from the Hinterland like Benny, Josettan, Jamesettan. Happy. Content with what they have, the basic food, clothing, shelter. Could be an interesting juxtaposition to the materialistic tendencies of the middle - upper middle class.
Do not renew thought, cancel all subscriptions now.
Muthuraj
At the shop, I finally met and spoke to Muthu, the drinker (thinker!). He had just downed a pint of rum, a regular activity behind the opposite bank. He spoke of his rather unfortunate existence. Over 50, unmarried, abandoned from his parents and siblings in Trivandrum living in an abject state of poverty, but having enough to buy a bottle of cheap booze daily. And over the years, it doesn't hit him anymore, intoxication and such things of the past. He told us about his strange experiences with a hypnotic pickpocketer who twice picked his wallet by making him go to sleep. He also spoke about not having had a single friend or anyone to talk to sincerely for over 8 years. Living in the absolutes of silence and alcohol, disconnected from everything. Strange. Asked him if I could film him and he said he wasn't special and didnt have anything special to say. I took some photos of him which will one day go into my book - "The Quiet Observer".
Back in the serenity of the house on the hill, Jiji and me opened a few beers. I sent some x-genome. Blast-off. We spoke of so many things from the lack of soul in most people to commitment. A lot of fun. Earlier, we went to meet the mad Paris Mohan at his place closeby. He is too caught up in himself, its hard to be around people like him. I always have the urge to tell him "a good man is a great listener". We spoke of his pretty maid, who has been unlucky, stuck with a drunkard. Very sophisticated but alas. What would life have been if she was married to a cultured, real human being. Hmm...
6/8
So, Jiji and me decided to go to the One-teacher Alternative school in the hill. Mathanchettan joined us. It was quite stunning, this small structure set against a marvellous mountain backdrop. Something bit Jiji's feet. Mathanchettan walked into some bushes and plucked some turmeric that Jiji pasted onto the bite. People of the earth, really. "Inspiring, something I would have no clue of", my cityhead realises as I quietly observe. The kids were a bit nervous, at first, to see us, the people from the otherworld. As soon as I got the camera out, it was a whole different scene as everyone wanted to be in it, laughing, jumping, pushing. Very refreshing to see this innocence, still uncorrupt by the commercial world. Took lots of photos (which will go into the book?), and filmed them eating their kanji and payar. There were two striking girls. One seemed like Bhagawati, one like Kali. Two faces of the same person. Both such beautiful faces. Wonder what it is that makes one child smile and laugh and another frown. Could be an interesting study, eh?
7/8
Nature is the essence and the landscape of the heart.
Its truth, its oneness is its harmony with the trees, the birds, the rivers, the lakes, the sea, the sky, the clouds, the stars. Over time as one is influenced and preconditioned by the two pillars of society, ie parents and teachers, the poor vulnerable heart gradually loses all sense of realism. The heart then, controlled by the mind, is taught to dissolve into an infinite grid of the second-grade, of monotony, of the dullness of acquisition, of the expanses of greed, of wanting to be this and that - to compete. The mind now begins to think like a machine, not questioning, not probing, not asking. It quietly works within a mechanical pattern and follows presets. This pattern eventually kills that landscape.
When will all pre-existant, pre-conditioned, preset thought end? When will the real observation begin, when will the real meditation begin, when will the real introspection begin? When? In time, now is the only choice you have. The landscape is waiting to be discovered.
----
Visited Mathanchettans gorgeous 10-acre property nestled right in the heart of the forest. Quiet, real quiet. The apt place for "Hinterland". So Jiji and me made a business plan to propose to "we dont know who". And a secret voice inside me tells me to give up all motive, give up the silly pursuit of these things. But, no, hinterland is special, its important. Its my responsibility to the next generation, our only link to the future. All JK-inspired.
8/8
Funny how Gautambhai heard my "Vertigo" ringtone and immediately felt it was the Koyaanisqatsi theme. Classical music, basically. Bernard Herrman vs Philip Glass. Hmm...
Monday, August 3, 2009
That Point of Enlightenment & The Observer
There is that point of enlightenment which, in my opinion, does not lie in total and selfless physical renunciation. Its a simple look inwards. An eye opens. There's only two we physically have... a third one we could say. It sees. It observes. Everything outwardly, physically, tangibly and everything inwards psychologically, emotionally, intangibly. This I'd like to call The Observer. At this point, ego, "I", pain, suffering, loss, attachment, things, everything, just about everything becomes external. Only a real point is you. This point is open to giving, to love & to live. That point cannot contain the burdens of these innumerable separate "I" things. The poor self is now not poor anymore. It holds a force stronger than anything in the world. And it doesn't need to justify that to the world through saffron robes, 2 foot long beards, vermillion dashes, white robes, turbans and the works. It silently observes listens and learns. A new thing every minute. Yet, it only keeps to observing. At this point, all thought is killed. The motionless silence is just about everything. Everything is there. Just there. Somewhere but not here.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
The need of the hour...
Is there the urgent need to do a Decalogue of films on JK's teachings. So, you have one on Love, one on Fear, one on Death, one on Religion etc etc. I have written to the KFA (Krishnamurti Foundation America) to explore the possibility of getting access to audio and video archival footage of the man. To take this idea further, do we have camps for students and youths across the country introducing them to these films. So, Hinterland, but in a broader sense, a camp introducing today's generation to JK. I wouldn't be surprised to know that majority of today's school-going and college-going children haven't even heard of the man, let alone know what he has spoken about. During these camps, we should have the kids read chapters from his books. All of this should be filmed and should form an important part of the message within these films from the camps. No? I think its very important. If Gigi and me manage to get the Wayanad property on lease, I think this could really be a possibility.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Yesterday
A good day, a lot of learning spiritually and artistically. Spiritually, I began reading The Mother's Vision (Selections from Questions and Answers) and A Timeless Spring (by J. Krishnamurti). JK's thoughts on Varanasi are so beautifully expressed. Its inspiring to see this simplicity. It really helps connect. And get closer to the core... the hinterlands of the heart if I can call it that. Artistically, I downloaded a lot of music today. The new Depeche Mode "Sounds of the universe", the new Tori Amos "Abnormally attracted to sin", the new Harvey/Parish "A Woman, A Man walked by" and the new IAMX "Kingdom of welcome addiction". Also I began discovering the vast catalogue of Steve Reich and John Surman. There is so much out there. ECM is just fantastic.
In pursuit of...
...all things material, trivial and temporary. A want for all these things in unison. Happiness through the pursuit of the physical. This is what the state of things is. Never really finding the synthetic fabric of the real self. Never giving up want for money, constant money, regular revenue... never understanding the fallacy of this type of an equation. An equilibrium sought through the methodical and regular want for self-promotion. A vain and disappointing attempt at wanting to feel superior. Superior, how? Through the acquisition of things, by talking down at people, by appearing in glossy magazines. A very poor realisation of the real self, indeed. Sad. But this is what the state of things is. Never finding the real synthetic of the self but only being a fabrication of it.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Four Days
22/7
"What is Auroville"
7am. The day began terribly. Bijoy and me were supposed to go to this screening of "Doshi" in Auroville together. But over the last few days, I have noticed he has changed a lot and there seems to be a lot of distance growing between us. After 4 months of working on the film in Kerala, he has not even asked about it, leave alone see it. Instead he has time to go watch HANGOVER and leave the responsibility of dropping Anjal and Sid back home at night onto me. Anyway, if I had a greater sense of myself and an understanding of the trivialities of these experiences, I would have looked above it and forgotten about it. But I am still walking towards that path. I have not reached the beginning of it yet but I can see it. And after this trip my mind will open a little more to accept that I have been touched by the hand of a divine being. It feels great. Anyway, getting back to the morning I called him and said I would prefer to go on my own in my car and, as I had expected, he lost his head and asked me to go alone. Well. I didnt realise this decision would help me find something magical later on. I decided to go alone. And what a drive. I enjoyed every minute of it. I have a newfound love for Tamil Nadu. The road from Krishnagiri to Pondicherry was quite breathtaking. Like photos from an old torn book on a lost hinterland in Tamil Nadu. If only the book would be accompanied by a CD containing the lost film music. Gorgeous trees, lovely browns and greens. Beautiful local people, the colour of their skin. All very visceral. I felt I was now in a place called Etherea. On reaching Pondi, I realised after speaking to Lalit in Auroville that I had gone on too far so I drive back and was on my way to Auroville. I frequently wrote this place off as some uber-cool hangout for the spiritual wannabes of Europe. When I entered Auroville, I realised I thought right. I didnt get a great vibe in the beginning. I went to the guesthouse and it was deserted. Lalit told me to meet him at the auditorium at 6:30. I reached a little earlier. The path was kucha, trees everywhere. Suddenly I saw the Matrimandir, the iconic circular-shaped meditation centre right in the middle of Auroville. There seems to be a whole new world operating here. A world cut off from the superficiality and materialism of the outside world. A city of friends. How cool. The auditorium was nice, lovely energies. The film looked and sounded cool. No bad cables, no inefficient sound chaps. It was all pucca. At around 6:45 the crowds started filling in. I met Lalit, lovely chap, no flowery "hi, how are you sir, its a pleasure to have you on this eventful day" garbage. To the point. I like that. The audi was full. The film began. Went off really well, lots of laughs and everyone really seemed to enjoy Mr. D's warm personality. They all connected. As it got over, Doshi hadn't arrived yet so the Q&A began with me. Great response. They asked me what was my inspiration, what was the secret of capturing the uncurtained personality of Doshi on camera etc. Doshi then arrived and the applause was overwhelming. Then the discussion progressed to the masterplan of Auroville, which is now Doshi's responsibility after being invited to join the Auroville board of governers. After the film I had a few nice conversations. Mita, one of the Aurovillians who has been here for 13 years, told me how lovely the "portrait" on Doshi was. We spoke for a bit. She has a lovely energy to her. Especially liked her Erykah Badu-esque headgear. And her lovely accent too. She introduced me to a chap who is responsible for the green belt, an oriental chap who didn't wear a shirt to the screening. That itself speaks volumes. No? I got her number and she also invited me to her office the next day for a chat. I was very curious to see what she does. Lalit then asked me to come by to the Centre guesthouse for dinner. Mita showed me the way there. There were a few others and we all chatted. I felt quite at home, there was no frivolous talk. I learnt about the alternative schools (the "vandi" school - a mobile school in a bus that Lalit's wife talked about sounded rather interesting), the thoughts and the soul of Auroville. Very inspiring to see this kind of a settlement.
23/7
"Listen"
Woke up, decided to call Mita. Switched off. How disappointing. I accepted the possibility of not meeting her. As I was getting set to head to the beach, she called. After a round of confusing directions, and a few wasted miles, I finally found the lovely blue and white house. She showed me her space. Apparently, she specialises in the development of the ear, after having researched the Tomatis method. Her work is mainly focussed on increasing the potential of the ear. She told me about an autistic boy who she has had a lot of success with. She also suggested we work on a set of portraits about people living in Auroville. A nice idea and I bet I would learn so much from such an experience. Hope its in the plan for me. Its amazing to see people like her. It makes me realise how petty my life is and how little I am doing for the community. The best part about Auroville is the community involvement. Since, its a small community of like-minded people, it makes more sense to work towards the betterment of it rather than being in a housing society flooded with families worried only about their own betterment and their next fully-loaded car. She gave me an article she wrote on Auroville back in 2000 and a little leaflet about the Tomatis method. I headed to the beach, hung around there for a bit and then headed to Tiruvannamalai. On reaching TVmalai, I couldnt find a place to stay. And then suddenly, like a gift from God I found Arpanaa. A lovely hotel facing the sacred mountain. Very comfortable, very posh, quite expensive too. I decided to stay in for the day as I was quite tired. So far so good.
24/7
"Starring Shanmugham"
I tried to wake up early. No such luck. But everything was working in a pattern. My grid says I was meant to meet a certain Shanmugham around 9ish. As I stepped out of the hotel, everything just clicked. His auto stopped right in front of me and we just connected. I wanted to visit the main temple. I wasn't aware how much I was going to experience. He took me to the temple but since it was crowded he went into a small lane and we stopped in front of Yogi Ram Suratkumar's house. A "God-child" from Tiruvanamalai. One word. Wow. I entered the house and it was filled with all his paraphernalia, from Charminar cigarette packs, to old clothes, to blessing lines on the walls, to all sorts of photos of him. It was all quite beautiful. I didnt feel like leaving. And there was a caretaker who looks after everything, lights the lamp, keeps the chanting of his name playing 24/7. He was a beggar who lived off leftovers and was constantly stoned by civilians. A very interesting story for film. And its not really been documented. Wow. How many opportunities at every corner. Which one do I grab? I really liked Yogi Ram Suratkumars energy. We then went to his ashram. Large sprawling auditorium with a shrine for him and many women chanting his name repeatedly. How bizarre. We also visited the really cool Ramana Maharshi's ashram. The photographs of him were really breathtaking. Its totally out there, this place. I am so fortunate to see all this. And all along Shanmugham was with me talking to me in English, Hindi, Malayalam and Tamil and if I knew Kannada and Telegu, he would speak those too. After a healthy vegetarian lunch at Anbu Mess, we went to see this Swami who lives about 15 km from TVMalai. He was asleep. We waited. Finally when he woke up and we were invited inside. I didn't get a great vibe from him as he asked me for money and I dont know something didn't seem right. There were a couple of families there too, everyone touching his feet asking for the Swami to pray for their daughters marriage, for their son to be successful in IAS etc. I found all this quite boring really. Anyway, that's that. We also went to another Swami's house but he passed away few years back so there was only a caretaker who looked like JP's mom and a little doggie called Kumar. :) Shanmugham dropped me off at the hotel by about 5. Oh, I almost forget. Before that he took me to his nephews little shop. Ramesh arts. He does paintings of filmstars, those classic ones of Rajni and Kamal. And ofcourse Vijai, Vijaykanth, Ajith and Vikram. He was telling me how he has lost a lot of business because of the digital revolution. I asked him to make a painting of Sid and gave him the passport-size photo I had in my wallet. He loved his face. What lovely people. I told him I will come by later to his shop to hang out. After taking a nap, at around 8:30 I came back to Ramesh arts and hung out with Ramesh and his friends. We spoke of art and how Ramesh wanted to call the painting "Sweet boy". The painting looked gorgeous. Amazing sense of detail. I cant wait for Mum to see this. I will gift it to her to keep at home. And oh, I forgot to mention I bought one of those mini xylophones from a shop in Auroville. A gift for Bijoy's office. I think that instrument has a lot of good energies. Wow, this has been a great trip so far.
25/7
"Panchabhoothi at Shankarapuram"
Shanmugham landed up at 9. On the dot. He took me for breakfast to a fantastic little place. The idli/vada was outstanding. And a choice of three chutneys. Heaven. I wanted to visit Yogi Ram Suratkumar's house again so went there and hung out for a while. I took some more photos. Felt more at home today. We then headed to Shankarapuram, the place that has the famous Panchabhoothi, 5 points of Shiva's presence. Shanmugham was driving my car. Insane driving! The landscape out there, 40kms from TVMalai was gorgeous. Rocks, trees, herds of cows, and very few people. Really out there in the hinterland. I felt off the earth as I walked barefoot in these temples almost burning my feet from the scorching heat. But it felt great going to these small temples. We went to pick up Hariharan, a pujari, from his house and he took us to all these spots. Each of these temples had interesting pujari's. The young lad who looked like he could be the next Tamil superstar, the pot-bellied pujari with the rather peaceful face and hair tied in a bun (not to forget him, Shanmugham and Hari busy tying the massive garlands on my cars bonnet), the strangely psyched out swami with the reverberating singing voice accompanied by the mechanical drums. All characters for film. All shot, all documented. Ready to go and be part of "This is a documentary of my life". After visiting these five temples, we headed back and after waiting for almost half an hour got some lovely food to eat at Anbu mess. Then Shanmugham took me to his house where he took the garlands and tied them on the bamboo out on the porch of his very humble home and beautiful children Poornima, Gauri and Ramkumar. Santosh Kumar wasn't there so I didnt meet him. Took some photos of the street kids. Then we went to Ramesh's house and he came back with us to his shop and showed me the painting. Framed in the classic ornate golden frame, it looked beautiful because I am now able to see beyond the so-called gaudy aesthetic of the frame and into the heart of love, of a painting made with real love. He also made a black and white sketch as an extra to keep on top of the TV, as he recommends. I hugged them and thanked them for their work and gave them 1300 Rs. I know its not much, I should have given them more. I will. When the time is right and when my hands begin to really live. Then. Wished goodbye to Shanmugham and Ramkumar and I headed back on the long drive back to a world where I dont belong.
"What is Auroville"
7am. The day began terribly. Bijoy and me were supposed to go to this screening of "Doshi" in Auroville together. But over the last few days, I have noticed he has changed a lot and there seems to be a lot of distance growing between us. After 4 months of working on the film in Kerala, he has not even asked about it, leave alone see it. Instead he has time to go watch HANGOVER and leave the responsibility of dropping Anjal and Sid back home at night onto me. Anyway, if I had a greater sense of myself and an understanding of the trivialities of these experiences, I would have looked above it and forgotten about it. But I am still walking towards that path. I have not reached the beginning of it yet but I can see it. And after this trip my mind will open a little more to accept that I have been touched by the hand of a divine being. It feels great. Anyway, getting back to the morning I called him and said I would prefer to go on my own in my car and, as I had expected, he lost his head and asked me to go alone. Well. I didnt realise this decision would help me find something magical later on. I decided to go alone. And what a drive. I enjoyed every minute of it. I have a newfound love for Tamil Nadu. The road from Krishnagiri to Pondicherry was quite breathtaking. Like photos from an old torn book on a lost hinterland in Tamil Nadu. If only the book would be accompanied by a CD containing the lost film music. Gorgeous trees, lovely browns and greens. Beautiful local people, the colour of their skin. All very visceral. I felt I was now in a place called Etherea. On reaching Pondi, I realised after speaking to Lalit in Auroville that I had gone on too far so I drive back and was on my way to Auroville. I frequently wrote this place off as some uber-cool hangout for the spiritual wannabes of Europe. When I entered Auroville, I realised I thought right. I didnt get a great vibe in the beginning. I went to the guesthouse and it was deserted. Lalit told me to meet him at the auditorium at 6:30. I reached a little earlier. The path was kucha, trees everywhere. Suddenly I saw the Matrimandir, the iconic circular-shaped meditation centre right in the middle of Auroville. There seems to be a whole new world operating here. A world cut off from the superficiality and materialism of the outside world. A city of friends. How cool. The auditorium was nice, lovely energies. The film looked and sounded cool. No bad cables, no inefficient sound chaps. It was all pucca. At around 6:45 the crowds started filling in. I met Lalit, lovely chap, no flowery "hi, how are you sir, its a pleasure to have you on this eventful day" garbage. To the point. I like that. The audi was full. The film began. Went off really well, lots of laughs and everyone really seemed to enjoy Mr. D's warm personality. They all connected. As it got over, Doshi hadn't arrived yet so the Q&A began with me. Great response. They asked me what was my inspiration, what was the secret of capturing the uncurtained personality of Doshi on camera etc. Doshi then arrived and the applause was overwhelming. Then the discussion progressed to the masterplan of Auroville, which is now Doshi's responsibility after being invited to join the Auroville board of governers. After the film I had a few nice conversations. Mita, one of the Aurovillians who has been here for 13 years, told me how lovely the "portrait" on Doshi was. We spoke for a bit. She has a lovely energy to her. Especially liked her Erykah Badu-esque headgear. And her lovely accent too. She introduced me to a chap who is responsible for the green belt, an oriental chap who didn't wear a shirt to the screening. That itself speaks volumes. No? I got her number and she also invited me to her office the next day for a chat. I was very curious to see what she does. Lalit then asked me to come by to the Centre guesthouse for dinner. Mita showed me the way there. There were a few others and we all chatted. I felt quite at home, there was no frivolous talk. I learnt about the alternative schools (the "vandi" school - a mobile school in a bus that Lalit's wife talked about sounded rather interesting), the thoughts and the soul of Auroville. Very inspiring to see this kind of a settlement.
23/7
"Listen"
Woke up, decided to call Mita. Switched off. How disappointing. I accepted the possibility of not meeting her. As I was getting set to head to the beach, she called. After a round of confusing directions, and a few wasted miles, I finally found the lovely blue and white house. She showed me her space. Apparently, she specialises in the development of the ear, after having researched the Tomatis method. Her work is mainly focussed on increasing the potential of the ear. She told me about an autistic boy who she has had a lot of success with. She also suggested we work on a set of portraits about people living in Auroville. A nice idea and I bet I would learn so much from such an experience. Hope its in the plan for me. Its amazing to see people like her. It makes me realise how petty my life is and how little I am doing for the community. The best part about Auroville is the community involvement. Since, its a small community of like-minded people, it makes more sense to work towards the betterment of it rather than being in a housing society flooded with families worried only about their own betterment and their next fully-loaded car. She gave me an article she wrote on Auroville back in 2000 and a little leaflet about the Tomatis method. I headed to the beach, hung around there for a bit and then headed to Tiruvannamalai. On reaching TVmalai, I couldnt find a place to stay. And then suddenly, like a gift from God I found Arpanaa. A lovely hotel facing the sacred mountain. Very comfortable, very posh, quite expensive too. I decided to stay in for the day as I was quite tired. So far so good.
24/7
"Starring Shanmugham"
I tried to wake up early. No such luck. But everything was working in a pattern. My grid says I was meant to meet a certain Shanmugham around 9ish. As I stepped out of the hotel, everything just clicked. His auto stopped right in front of me and we just connected. I wanted to visit the main temple. I wasn't aware how much I was going to experience. He took me to the temple but since it was crowded he went into a small lane and we stopped in front of Yogi Ram Suratkumar's house. A "God-child" from Tiruvanamalai. One word. Wow. I entered the house and it was filled with all his paraphernalia, from Charminar cigarette packs, to old clothes, to blessing lines on the walls, to all sorts of photos of him. It was all quite beautiful. I didnt feel like leaving. And there was a caretaker who looks after everything, lights the lamp, keeps the chanting of his name playing 24/7. He was a beggar who lived off leftovers and was constantly stoned by civilians. A very interesting story for film. And its not really been documented. Wow. How many opportunities at every corner. Which one do I grab? I really liked Yogi Ram Suratkumars energy. We then went to his ashram. Large sprawling auditorium with a shrine for him and many women chanting his name repeatedly. How bizarre. We also visited the really cool Ramana Maharshi's ashram. The photographs of him were really breathtaking. Its totally out there, this place. I am so fortunate to see all this. And all along Shanmugham was with me talking to me in English, Hindi, Malayalam and Tamil and if I knew Kannada and Telegu, he would speak those too. After a healthy vegetarian lunch at Anbu Mess, we went to see this Swami who lives about 15 km from TVMalai. He was asleep. We waited. Finally when he woke up and we were invited inside. I didn't get a great vibe from him as he asked me for money and I dont know something didn't seem right. There were a couple of families there too, everyone touching his feet asking for the Swami to pray for their daughters marriage, for their son to be successful in IAS etc. I found all this quite boring really. Anyway, that's that. We also went to another Swami's house but he passed away few years back so there was only a caretaker who looked like JP's mom and a little doggie called Kumar. :) Shanmugham dropped me off at the hotel by about 5. Oh, I almost forget. Before that he took me to his nephews little shop. Ramesh arts. He does paintings of filmstars, those classic ones of Rajni and Kamal. And ofcourse Vijai, Vijaykanth, Ajith and Vikram. He was telling me how he has lost a lot of business because of the digital revolution. I asked him to make a painting of Sid and gave him the passport-size photo I had in my wallet. He loved his face. What lovely people. I told him I will come by later to his shop to hang out. After taking a nap, at around 8:30 I came back to Ramesh arts and hung out with Ramesh and his friends. We spoke of art and how Ramesh wanted to call the painting "Sweet boy". The painting looked gorgeous. Amazing sense of detail. I cant wait for Mum to see this. I will gift it to her to keep at home. And oh, I forgot to mention I bought one of those mini xylophones from a shop in Auroville. A gift for Bijoy's office. I think that instrument has a lot of good energies. Wow, this has been a great trip so far.
25/7
"Panchabhoothi at Shankarapuram"
Shanmugham landed up at 9. On the dot. He took me for breakfast to a fantastic little place. The idli/vada was outstanding. And a choice of three chutneys. Heaven. I wanted to visit Yogi Ram Suratkumar's house again so went there and hung out for a while. I took some more photos. Felt more at home today. We then headed to Shankarapuram, the place that has the famous Panchabhoothi, 5 points of Shiva's presence. Shanmugham was driving my car. Insane driving! The landscape out there, 40kms from TVMalai was gorgeous. Rocks, trees, herds of cows, and very few people. Really out there in the hinterland. I felt off the earth as I walked barefoot in these temples almost burning my feet from the scorching heat. But it felt great going to these small temples. We went to pick up Hariharan, a pujari, from his house and he took us to all these spots. Each of these temples had interesting pujari's. The young lad who looked like he could be the next Tamil superstar, the pot-bellied pujari with the rather peaceful face and hair tied in a bun (not to forget him, Shanmugham and Hari busy tying the massive garlands on my cars bonnet), the strangely psyched out swami with the reverberating singing voice accompanied by the mechanical drums. All characters for film. All shot, all documented. Ready to go and be part of "This is a documentary of my life". After visiting these five temples, we headed back and after waiting for almost half an hour got some lovely food to eat at Anbu mess. Then Shanmugham took me to his house where he took the garlands and tied them on the bamboo out on the porch of his very humble home and beautiful children Poornima, Gauri and Ramkumar. Santosh Kumar wasn't there so I didnt meet him. Took some photos of the street kids. Then we went to Ramesh's house and he came back with us to his shop and showed me the painting. Framed in the classic ornate golden frame, it looked beautiful because I am now able to see beyond the so-called gaudy aesthetic of the frame and into the heart of love, of a painting made with real love. He also made a black and white sketch as an extra to keep on top of the TV, as he recommends. I hugged them and thanked them for their work and gave them 1300 Rs. I know its not much, I should have given them more. I will. When the time is right and when my hands begin to really live. Then. Wished goodbye to Shanmugham and Ramkumar and I headed back on the long drive back to a world where I dont belong.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Full options
Today I had to go to renew my insurance and as I was sitting there in the car showroom, I was given a glimpse into the materialistic mindset of the middle-class Indian family. Their discussions were mainly about whether they need a CD changer, if so how many CD's, on how they prefer the Vista to the old Indica. They were dropping all sorts of brand names and then it suddenly struck me that I was, when I was Dubai, a willing contributor to this rather bleak world of branding. It sad that these are the things that make people happy today. At 33, I have been gifted with a little insight into another world, a world that very few of us will ever experience, a simpler world, a world where friends are really friends and not facebook friends, a world where I really belong. I cant wait to leave the city. Cant wait. I hope Hinterland clicks.
Monday, July 6, 2009
NGO Type 2
I would say a majority of NGO's today focus on the problems and exploitations of the marginalized. Right? Are we forgetting the elephant in the room? What are the majority of 10-22 year olds learning today? Isn't television a religion? And what do you have on television? Are they really exposed to life or to living? Are we forgetting to talk to them? I think so. This is a major problem. A major social disaster. There is a lot to be learnt from the grassroots. We need a sort of revival of the grassroots. Centre-stage, lights, camera, action. This is what needs to be focussed on. Their lives, their stories, their experiences. Beyond all this their happiness needs to be in the spotlight. Not f-kin Kambakht Ishq, not the latest developments in hair-treatment, not Paris Hilton. No no no, nein no not!
Sunday, July 5, 2009
So?
What are kids taught in school today? Isn’t there an alternative to academia, if not for 12 years, atleast for one month?
Television, our nations serial killer. School-kids today are exposed to a very jaded Western world, a facebook-world of pixels lacking any sense of real experience. Do they know how majority of India lives? Do they know how happy this majority is? Yes, happy. The urban mindset is the one that needs to mature. This kind of convergence will help in bringing together two people who couldn’t be more different from one another - the city boy who gets entertainment from Dhoom 2 and the tea-pickers son who runs in the fields barefoot, unafraid, happy. And they will get along because everything will be a surprise, there is almost no common ground.
Television, our nations serial killer. School-kids today are exposed to a very jaded Western world, a facebook-world of pixels lacking any sense of real experience. Do they know how majority of India lives? Do they know how happy this majority is? Yes, happy. The urban mindset is the one that needs to mature. This kind of convergence will help in bringing together two people who couldn’t be more different from one another - the city boy who gets entertainment from Dhoom 2 and the tea-pickers son who runs in the fields barefoot, unafraid, happy. And they will get along because everything will be a surprise, there is almost no common ground.
Paper-weight
The concept begins here.
The line is drawn, the block is fixed. The words need ink be-cos the world is in the sink
the water falls, the roof is clean and the weight of the concept is on the drawing board.
The line is drawn, the block is fixed. The words need ink be-cos the world is in the sink
the water falls, the roof is clean and the weight of the concept is on the drawing board.
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