6:17 AM. Andheri.
Woke up at quarter to 6. Some fitful sleep. I think it’s the AC. Need to fix it.
Lets not be digressed by that. Today’s when I start writing a script or something and focus less on thoughts. Let’s see how it goes. To be honest, I dont have an idea in my head right now. Let’s see what comes out when I start typing. I will be at it for at least an hour. That’s the point of “forced creativity”.
Before that, there are some updates from the day gone by and things on my head…
- I went out! Yay! I walked up to the nearest Star Bazaar and brought some dry fruits. Grocery was an excuse – I just wanted to step out. On the way back I spotted more people walking than on other days on the Lokhandwala backroad. So I can walk too. I just need to find a time when it’s not as crowded. May be in the morning? Right after morning pages?
- Work has started to become hectic. Which is ok. Just that I need to be on the computer for like 10 hours. The only thing I am worried about is my eyes.
- KG told me about how Michelangelo would go hungry for up to 7 days and then pick up the chisel to work his masterpieces. Now that’s incredible. I haven’t been able to find any conclusive evidence on a cursory Google search. I am sure, I will find it if I dug deeper.
- Yesterday, I talked about Coconut Milk as a beverage. It’s the second day and I love it. To a point that I have stocked the refrigerator with it!
So that’s about it.
I can write more. But I am trying to shun negativity and live in denial. I am assuming that there’s no COVID out there. At least for the next 15 days. I will of course continue to write my thoughts on #sgEchoChamber. And here
Here’s streaks…
- Morning Pages / Meditations – 124
- #aPicADay – 105
- 10K steps a day –0 🙁
- OMAD – 0
- #noCoffee – 37
- #noCoke – 37
- 10 mins of meditation – 2
- #book2 – 0
- Killer Boogie – 0
- Original Work (limited time only) – 0
Now, onto the “original work” that I will write for one hour. It’s 6:43 on the clock. Here we go…
Day 1
What do I write about? Writing itself? A writer struggling to find his spot in the sun? Another trying to prove a point to the world, and to himself; that he’s worth a lot more than what the world gives him credit for?
Or I could write about someone intriguing that I read about. You know, a true story. Of someone’s heroic. Of someone’s extraordinary journey of becoming extraordinary. The world is full of such people. They do simple things in such a unique manner that you are left inspired. Just need to find someone like that and merely narrate what they were up to.
Then there is the question of my ability to look at these people with a lens that makes the story worth telling!
Or it could be about someone’s dreams, hopes, aspirations, ideas, and thoughts. Funnily most of these are so damn simple that you wonder if there’s a story in there on not. I mean at the end of it, each person seeks those basic things that our monkey mind has trained us for – safety, survival, propagation of the genes. For most, safety comes from a house (people call those homes), survival comes from a stable job that pays enough to build their house and propagation from a spouse.
Of course, this simple monkey-mindedness becomes an impossible chasm to leap over when one person’s wants start to collide with another’s. I mean you have a stable job. This stability threatens your colleagues’ survival in the same workplace. He would then try and do things that would jeopardize your stability. You on the other hand would not tolerate this game and you would first secure your place. And once that has happened, you would go back with vengeance. Even if you don’t want to. You are guided far more by your monkey mind than you can imagine.
I can also write about this image that I have held in my brain for I don’t know how long. Lemme narrate it. Let’s see what comes out of it.
So, I was at one of the busiest local train stations in Mumbai. I think it was Kurla. Or it was Dadar. The trains were jampacked. To a point that even the people that were hanging out of the doors were stacked like lego blocks. One on top of another. Interlocked so well that even the biggest canons, the wildest wrecking ball couldn’t make a dent if they tried it at the same time. Packed so tight that even air couldn’t pass through. Whatever gaps you could spot were shuttered by the sweat and in some cases, the blood. The greatest architcet in the world couldn’t build something as grand if she tried for decades. And here we are. In Mumbai. Train after train, bogie after bogie, day after day was so packed by strangers that you are left marveling at the sheer capacity to bear hardship, the sheer will to get things done despite odds, the sheer tolerance of pain, and heat and hunger!
As a newcomer to Mumbai, I would often sit at a busy station to see these men and women and the mass of humanity go through this grind every day. Twice. Every time I sat on one of those benches that were invariably donated by the kin of a rich person that is now long forgotten, I was probably the only person who was still amidst all the cacophony.
So imagine you are in the midst of this scene of life playing like a film. You are marveling at the scene unfolding in front of you. Pretty much on auto-pilot. A train stops right in front of you. Like a well-orchestrated symphony, the wall of people shifts shape. Some bricks come out. Some go in. The wall remains steadfast. The wall gets stronger than ever. People are packed tighter than ever. Anyone even thinking of breaching it would get discouraged by even looking at it.
The train starts to move, the wall starts to take it easy. And unknown to it, a young girl of not more than 14 starts walking towards it. She is unassuming. She is not rushed. She is relaxed. The train picks speed. The girl continues her easy pace towards the train that is now almost a blur.
The last of its bogie is in sight. The girl is now a few feet away from the train. From where I am, I can’t see her face. I don’t even know what she’s upto. But she’s upto something for sure.
As if on cue, she breaks into a sprint and hurls her tiny frame at the wall. And just before she’s about to collide into the sea of people hanging from the doors, she turns around. And her back thuds into a man that’s wearing a distinctly blue shirt. Out of reflex, the man grabs her. The wall comes to life. More hands appear and support the girl. Some bricks shuffle. They make the space that no one could have imagined existed.
While the reengineering was happening, while she was slowly becoming the part of the wall that was almost out of my sight, I saw her. And for a fleeting second, I saw the smile on her face. I saw the determination in her eyes. I saw her punch the air with her fists clenched tight. I saw the unbreakable, the immovable wall of humans make way, shift its shape and bow down to this young girl that I did not even know the name of.
[END]Notes…
- Was tough to start. But once I started typing, it was easy. Takes me a lot of time to get to a point.
- There no no story right now. None seems to be emerging. Need to work on it if I am giving myself 15 days.
- What I write is very very descriptive. It does not move the story forward. I have only narrated one scene. Took like a million words for it. Screenplays are not that. The story has to move. I need to think differently.
- I, of course, need three tracks (A, B, and C). I need clear character arcs. I need conflicts. I need release and resolution. I need to follow the three-act structure. I need the inciting incidence. I need so much more!
Let’s see how it goes over the next 15 days.