240621 – Morning Pages

Short post about lessons from a writing cohort that I am a part of. And a tiny announcement on the Aram Nagar docu.

8:09. Starbucks.

There is nothing special to report to be honest. I mean there is some updates in terms of work I am doing and projects I am involved with and all that. But they are more “work” than anything else and I try to stay away from work as much as I can. So I don’t know what to write.

Long-Form Writing Cohort

The highlight of the day has to be (thanks to my Roam for helping me review the day), the meetup of the LFW Cohort that I am a part of. Five of us made it to the session and each person had super insane updates on what they were up to. One of us has been able to monetize his writing by getting sponsors. Another’s writing is being read by a US Govt agency. There’s one who’s finished a couple of film scripts and is now ready to pitch. Then there’s me who’s wading into mediocrity with a million things and thousand projects.

However a couple of things became clear.

A. There is immense value in building a certain following on social networks. While you may engage with them a lot and it may suck time, the access you get once you have a following is insane. I have to do what it takes to build this.

I mean if it means getting fit and posting my transformation videos, I will do it! I have the discipline once I decide on something (these morning pages for example), just that I cant seem to get started (for multiple reasons – the time it takes to work out, my Hernia, my aversion to public places, inability to hire a trainer, lack of interest in an online Yoga teacher).

If not this, then hiring a cool kid to write a 1000 tweets from my handle and get known for that.

Basically, come hell of high water, I have to build a following!

B. Great things happen when you ship. Even if you ship less often. You have to work at a certain frequency and cadence but you ought to ship. And ship things others want. The world has moved from “do whatever consistently and a following would get built.”

It is now about building things, doing things that the world wants. You know, as Vivek calls it, need to find your founder-product-market fit! In simple language, what is it that you can work on that you are great at and why is it important?

I clearly need to work on this.

I mean I’ve been aware of this but never got around to work on it. And if I did, the attempts were more or less tactical. You know, to be done when I do not have other things to work on. Maybe this needs to become strategic. In the sense, put this higher up in the priority?

Let’s see.

Anyhow. So, before I move on, here’s the track for the day. The one I will play on loop as I write this. It’s Singh is King. Here…

The Aram Nagar Documentary

So, the documentary that Mudit and I are on, we’ve started to make progress with it.

Yesterday we put a call out for actors and others that know Aram Nagar to contact us. So far we haven’t got any interest per se, but let’s see where it goes. Here’s the post that we put out.

The audition call for the Aram Nagar Documentary with Mudit

In case you know someone that may fit the bill, please do reach out.

I guess this is about for the day. Apart from these two projects, there’s isnt much that I have to talk about.

Here’s the streaks…

  • Morning Pages / Meditations – 193
  • #aPicADay – 0
  • 10K steps a day – 0
  • OMAD – 0
  • #noCoffee – 0
  • #noCoke – 105
  • 10 mins of meditation – 0
  • #book2 – 0
  • Killer Boogie – 0
  • Surya Namaskar – 0

PS: These posts have started to get boring. Need to find a way to bring spark back to these. Let’s see how. #note2self

The Aram Nagar Documentary

An introduction to the Aram Nagar Project. A documentary where I want to explore this place called Aram Nagar.

I won’t be exaggerating if I said that Bollywood fuels the dreams of millions of people and gives hope to billions. I have been so enamored by it that my first book, The Nidhi Kapoor Story (2015) was all about it!

And then, thanks to luck, sometime in 2018 I met Shikha and we somehow created The Red Sparrow (largely her effort) and it took me deeper into the glamourous world of the film stars that I had never imagined I could get access to.

And alongside, I saw first-hand how the world works. I saw how people you call friends stab you in the back to get a shot at fame, how guardian angels support you even if you are nobody, how the industry is and wants to remain a closed circle, how your heroes fail you, and how thousands of people chase the ever-illusive dreams of seeing their names and faces on the posters and hoardings that adorn the towns and cities across the country.

Truth be told, these dreams do come true. But only for a handful of these dreamers. The handful that “make it” make the headlines. And the hoardings. And more. The millions that are left behind are well, left behind. They become like that distant relative that you know you have to talk about but you get uncomfortable their name is brought up.

These people start their “career” in relative anonymity and spend their entire lives hoping to get that fleeting shot at fame. The hopes, more or less get dashed! Even though these people work the longest hours, in a neverending rat race. Slog the most even when they know they would likely face rejection. Face non-stop rejections, only to chin up and show up the next day. Hold their dreams the closest to their chests and open their hearts the widest. Seek and lend shoulders to others of their ilk. And hang out at communes at, well, Aram Nagar.

Aram Nagar.

Aram Nagar is where the cine aspirants go to learn the craft and hone their skills, participate in auditions that can make or break their lives, cry when the dreams are shattered, rejoice at even a remote hint of opportunity, celebrate their victories, play with each other and scheme and plot and plan and conjure elaborate ideas to get “noticed”. By casting directors, if not by the directors or producers themselves.

Aram Nagar.

A lazy village characterized by a tangled maze of gullys and dusty footpaths and bungalows in various stages of ruin. Most of these bungalows tote a “no audition” sign on their facade and yet there is always a group of “strugglers” hanging out. Hoping that they would get “spotted” and get that shot! After all, everyone has heard stories of how some random kid playing cricket at the maidaan was chosen for a meaty role. If this could happen to them, why not to us? That tiny, fragile thread that they call hope is a bitch. You don’t want to let go. You don’t want to stay tethered.

Aram Nagar.

Aram Nagar is their solace. It’s their hope. It’s where these people that want to conquer the world get called “strugglers”. A tag that gets attached to their lives till they make it.

It is this wondrous world of Aram Nagar that Mudit and I wish to explore, investigate, capture and immortalize.

Both of us are enamored by it. Both of us are keen on understanding the phenomenon. Both of us want to know more about the people that have left their homes behind. In search of what they think is their rightful place in the world.

More in the next few days as we get closer to doing this. Meanwhile, if you know people from Aram Nagar, please do connect me with them and help me pick their brains for this.

Update. 24 Jun 2021.
We put out an audition call for people that know more about Aram Nagar. Here…

The audition call for the Aram Nagar Documentary with Mudit

PS: Also, the content on this page is my version of the project. I am sure Mudit has some flavor to add. He may even disagree with a few of these things. So that.

230321 – Morning Pages

How these morning pages have sort of become a blog of sorts. And no, I am not complaining. Rather, grateful.

Read on.

7:04. Andheri. 8:39. Starbucks.

Even though I decide each day that I will work from home and not go to Starbucks, like an addict, I automatically move towards it. And this move is not a simple jab in the arm that gives me the hit. But requires me to wake up early, shit, shower, wear socially acceptable clothes, take a rick and then walk into one! I don’t think I’ve made this much effort for a date in a while. I don’t think I will make it either. Unless it’s Priyanka Chopra. Oh, forbidden fruit! Oh, things out of reach!

So, last night, I slept at 10ish (I think so), to be able to wake up at 5. And I did wake up at 5:15 types, only to go back to sleep. Lol. I will try again today. Let’s see. The intent is to wake up at 5, work on #book2 (lol) for a couple of hours and then get on with the day. Lol, wishful thinking. I am in that mood today, you know, where I want to, well, mock everyone. Starting with me. I wish I could be like this every day. Must investigate what has happened that I am becoming this!

Lemme list things that I did yesterday and see if I can see any patterns.

  • Ate one meal. I mean, I ate twice but in the 4-hour window. So that’s technically OMAD. Ordered from Bikaji and had chana masala. I love Indian, spicy food.
  • Had a few meetings and I was questioned in some. And in others, I questioned others. In toto, I would have spent about 6 hours in meetings (and thus, no productive work happened).
  • Made some progress with the Aram Nagar documentary with Mudit. Spent time walking around Aram Nagar. Connected with some people that can connect us with some people that may know more about Aram Nagar.
  • Played a LOT of chess. And lost a LOT of games. Lol. I need to quit it.
  • Did NOT spend as much time on Instagram. And did NOT stalk those #instacrushes.
  • Wrote an investment thesis (in the morning) for the Angelist Syndicate that I want to create with a few friends. Very early days right now. Let’s see how it goes.
  • Stayed away from the negativity imposed by constant comparisons with people that are more fortunate. Reminded myself what Dr. Peterson says – you don’t need to compare yourself to others but to what you were a year ago. I really think I have stagnated in the past year but my personal trajectory would be more or less upward.
  • Slept for 7 hours. Like a log. Did see some dreams but I can’t recall those.
  • Made some headway with SoG Grant.

I cant spot any. Can you? Let’s see how I am doing tomorrow.

Also, I realize that these morning pages are becoming more of a personal blog. Which is ok. The idea is to get in some words out every day. For a couple of reasons.

A, Keeps the writing muscle going.

B, Allows me to pour my heart out to someone, something (in absence of that significant other). I think if there’s one thing I can recommend to people, it would be that they need to write. In public.

Bonus C. It allows me to be more accountable to myself. As I know that what I write is on public platforms and anyone can look at what I am thinking and saying and call bullshit.

So that.

Ok, I don’t know what else to write. The track of the day is this. Saw this for the first time on the Instagram feed of an #instaCrush and while I’ve moved on from her, the track has been added to the list of my favorite ones. There’s another track am thinking of right now is Bocelli crooning Can’t Help Falling In Love.

I think that’s about it. Time to get on with the day and seize the fucking day. Oh, here’s the streaks

  • Morning Pages – 102. Now its a game on when I drop this 😀
  • #aPicADay – 82. Aim to do about 100. And then 365. Even on 9/22. Let’s see.
  • 10K steps a day – 1.
  • OMAD – 1
  • #noCoffee – 13
  • #noCoke – 13
  • 10 mins of meditation – 0
  • #book2 – 0

020221 – Morning Pages

Regular updates. Nothing special. Did #freewriting on #book2 after a few days. Totally enjoyed. Read if you can and gimme feedback.

7:57 AM. Woke up a little less groggy than yesterday. I don’t know what changed. I still ate as much crap as I ate the day before. I slept around the same time. I had the same battles with the phone and the internet as I have had in the past few days. I am still thinking about the same things. I am still not moving as much as I would want to. The human body is a funny thing.

Anyhow. Time for morning pages. I am surprised that I have written these for more than 50 days now. Without missing a day. Even on the day when I was not in the mood, I came here and wrote something. Even if I felt crappy, I ensured that I poured my heart here. I felt lonely, I wrote about it. I took a loan. I recorded it here. The pages have become a companion, dear diary of sorts.

The day yesterday was ok. Went to Clay. Did some work, did some non-work things. I loved hanging out in the middle of so many people that are doing their own thing and are generally interesting to talk to. I love the place! If only my mobile phone worked better :D.

In fact, I must copy-paste their model when I get around to creating a physical space where I want creatives to hang out! I mean I can copy the model easily. The challenge would be to create a vibe. That takes more effort. Anyone can put some chairs and tables and an Internet connection. The sauce is how you run it, how you get people to bind into a community. How you ensure that they feel the same for you as you feel for them. For me, this community of people, the camaraderie between that community, the feeling of belonging, the safety in the group, the shoulders to stand on is the thing that makes life worth living. Let’s see when that happens.

I need to decide on where to live. Come hell or high-water, I will take a call by EOD. It is important that I do so. Like I keep saying, I need to happen to things, rather than things happening to me. The decision essentially depends on the work situation. There are a few things that I can do in Goa but the size of opportunity here may not be enough to feed all the expenses that I have. Of course, life here is better (no pants, no traffic, everything accessible etc) but I do miss the action of a large city.

Wait.

Can I create a life like that in Mumbai? You know, get a place, do it up, create a vibe like Clay, serve food like Nicky’s, attract creative people do bind into a community? In Aaram Nagar or something. Of course, the costs are like 5X to do something like that and competition is like 10X there (with all the Starbucks, Blue Tokais, and others) but I am told a lot of things are now available for cheaper.

That’s the other thing. I was trying to explain something to Mudit yesterday when I realized that I have forgotten the names of the landmarks in Mumbai! In the para above, it took me 5 minutes to come up with the name of Blue Tokai! Guess I am growing old. Anyhow.

So today’s one of those days when I feel I have a lot to write about, a lot to think about but I don’t know how to write. The thoughts are all over the place. I am unable to make them in a coherent narrative. But then I still am trying. Arrghh.. Frustrating it is.

Guess, a writer’s block?

Dont know.

But then Kunal told me yesterday that these morning pages, in the way I do (daily journalish, self-talk, pouring of thoughts etc) is apparently a great mental-health hack. And since I anyway write in public, I am not scared if these are “leaked” someday. Lol!

Chalo that’s about it.

On to #freewriting for #book2. Oh, today’s prompt is something that I think I saw in my dreams last night. Not kidding. I now have faint recollections of what I saw but I did see the scene play in my dream. Let’s see how it comes out on paper. Here we go…

ABC and his flunkies settled into probably what was the most uncomfortable spot at Caravan Serai. He took the long bench, the flunkies fanned out around him. Udita spotted them and knew there was trouble. Even though she was alone this afternoon, she was not the one to get perturbed. She walked up to the group with a bunch of menu cards. She showed her irreverence by slapping the menu cards on the table in between the group. The smack made by the plastic menu cards killed the chatter in the group. The boss looked up from his phone. He realized what had happened. He remained indifferent and went back to his phone. Meanwhile, Udita did not wait for them to place an order and walked back at a leisurely pace. These guys were not used to this open display of insubordination. As it often happens in such herds, when faced with uncertainty, you look up to the alpha. Everyone looked at the boss for what to do next. He was still buried in his phone and the scene had actually escaped him. The uncomfortable silence started to escalate. Someone had to break it. One of the enthu flunkies that wanted to make his way up in the foodchain stood up and yelled at Udita, “aye bitch, bring your tiny ass here. Don’t you know who we are with?”

At this, the boss looked up. The eyes remained calm. So did his body language. He looked so composed that you could’ve imagined him to be in a temple. He was as indifferent as he could be. He merely looked on for an instant and went back to his phone. He rested the phone against the small vase on the table. The vase had a money plant curled up in it and it was just the right size to act as a makeshift stand for a phone.

Udita shot back, “what did you call me?”

The flunky was clearly not used to the insubordination. “Bitch. I called you a bitch. And you are one.”

Udita was anyway worked up to see ABC at Caravan Serai. Now this flunky and the language he used had enraged her even more. She stomped to the table, shovelled another man away who was sitting between her and the flunky, held him by his tee-shirt. The guy was easily a foot taller. She looked him into his eyes and asked again. “What did you call me?”

The flunky was lost. He hadnt been attacked like that. Singled out. Especially with his boss around. And by a tiny woman. And he had higher ambitions. He did not know what to do. The boss continued to watch on with his stoic eyes.

“Tell me, you bastard”, Udita raged on.

The flunky did not have an answer. His voice was sort of clipped. Udita clenched her fists and thus his tee tighter.

“Uh”, he made some indescript noise.

One of the other flunkies tried to get up to save his friend from the apparant misery. Udita saw that from a corner of her eye. Before the guy could stand fully erect, she pushed at his chair that sent him toppling back with a thud.

It was clearly out of hands now. The boss thundered, “stop it!”

He continued, “apologies to the young lady”

The flunky found some strength when he saw his boss intervene. But all of it was lost when he comprehended what he heard. He was being asked to apologize. Weren’t they ABC’s gang? Where they routinely roughed up people for things smaller than this. If someone had done this at some other place, at some other time, he was sure that the boss would have literally killed the guy! And this was a girl. A waitress at some random bar.

“ABC Sir?”, he was still confused.

ABC repeated. The calmness was back, “I said apologise to the young woman.”

Udita was confused herself. The stories she had heard about ABC were anything but this. He was being polite. And he was taking the right side, even though Udita was the one to have attacked. She left the collar and took a step back. She folded her hands in front of her chest, like you would do when you sensed danger.

“How can I? The bitch was out of her place. She disrespected you.” The flunky tried to make his case.

The boss merely shook his head. With the agility of a table tennis player, he picked up the vase in a shift motion and smashed it against the head of flunky. The glass shattered on his forehead and sent tiny pieces, water and even the remnants of the money plant around him. There was this messy puddle of hair, skin, glass, leaves and blood on his forehead. Some blood was his. Some was ABC’s. He had cut his hand in the process.

The flunky stumbled back, tried to support himself on a chair. He leaned on it with one hand and tried to hold his head with the other. ABC however was not done. He pounced on the flunky and sent him sprawling on the floor. He sat on his chest. Held his tee, from the same place Udita had held him and said, “next time I tell you to do something, you will listen to me. Ok?”

The flunky could merely nod.

“I did not hear you” ABC growled.

“Yes, yes, ABC. I will. I am sorry”. He said with whatever strength he could muster.

“Good boy. Now, say sorry to the young lady. And you better clean all the mess that you have created here”. ABC instructed him.

“Yes…”, the flunky could come up with just a word.

The gang was in a state of shock. They knew of ABC and his quirks. They knew it was best if they stayed shut.

ABC turned to Udita. “What’s your name ma’am? I am sorry for this boy’s behaviour. He is new and does not know how to speak to people.” He wiped his hand on his white shirt, leaving it crumped and stained.

Udita managed, “it’s alright. I am Udita. I manage the place when Mrs. Gomes is not here.”

“Ah. I have seen you here but did not know that she trusts you with the place. Whatever I know of her, she is tough to please”. ABC was back to his clam self and was now small-talking with Udita as if they were in a club.

Udita was not sure how to react. She looked around. There was this guy on the floor who was bleeding. There was this guy who was indifferent despite the scene he had created. There were other burly men who were as confused as Udita was.

ABC sensed the confusion. “Oh, dont worry about him. He’s a strong boy. He would be back in action by tomorrow. He’d help you clean the place now. Just get him some water, if that’s not too inconvinient?”

***

That’s it! I loved writing today’s piece! Yay! Need to have more such days 🙂 If you read this, do gimme feedback. Of course, haven’t fixed typos, edited, or checked for sanity.

Till next time!