Raseela

It was March 2012. Due to excessive drenching and debauchery on Holi, I had invited a viral fever. A really persistent casting director called and woke me up one noon. A not-so-big part in a huge film beckoned. The reference was a performer who could look like the late Smita Patil, specifically her from Mirch Masala. 

Initially ignorant and disinterested, I tried to convince her that I wouldn't be able to do much since I was sick and purple-eared from Holi.  Yet, there I was, an hour later, sans make up, waiting in a nondescript Aram Nagar studio with a tissue held to a running nose. 

There was to be a look-test. Basically, specific costume and make up was put to be put on to check if you looked the part or not. But this one was unusual. Unlike other places, my complexion was largely celebrated, in fact I  wasn't made pale at all. 

 While I waited, I scanned the competition. Reknowned  TV actors, models and a few Veejay type of girls filled the room,looking freshly sun-kissed. This was a few months before Gangs of Wasseypur released, and I was at best, just another wannabe-actor in the burbs. It was permissible for me to peer anonymously.

I looked on curiously at how a simple look-test was carried out with so much attention to detail. A reference folder was brought out to determine how the character would wear the jewellery and tattoos. The costume was authentic and beautiful. Assistants scurried about the room to shoot the ready actors from different angles. It reeked of perfection. 

It was done. And that was that. 

A few months later I signed the film, the first time ever without reading the script or knowing "screen-time". It was a powerful yet supporting role. The director was an 'auteur'. Everybody and their mother, from within the industry or outside, wanted a chance to feature in a single mis-en-scen he created. A multi-multi award winner,he was reserved,yet always spoken of,revered and often-imitated. 

Genius. 

The first day on set was my first day on a set. Previously, all the filmmakers I had worked with mostly shot at real locations. The locations were obviously tweaked for the narrative but this was a little piece of life constructed and created solely for the purpose of story telling.

Each day of shoot reminded me that I knew nothing and there were miles to go. And humility is a tremendous feeling. A year passed during the shoot and I still felt that the next time around,I would  improve on aspect x or y. 

...

In less than five days,the film will release. It shall be my first proper- mainstream outing. I will at best, be remembered as a satellite for this one. A memorable, luminous satellite. Am often asked if that upsets me. 

Hell no! 

The journey is the destination and I don't even have a map... 

It's not how I will be remembered, it is that I shall always remember of this.

:-)k

Jiah

For Jiah

When we're 16 or 18, there's a certain plan we have for our  lives. Its an innocent timeline, reflecting our ambition, notion of self-worth and deep-seated desires. Mine perhaps read like this... Degree at 20, first job at 22, world fame at 25,first mansion at 28, private jet at 30, married to an awesome person with the face of Barbie's Ken and Salman Rushdie's intellect at 31.  

Unfortunately life doesn't work on our time-table. Perhaps free-will is debatable, perhaps an Entity or God pulls the strings, perhaps life is a dream that we have in a deep-divine slumber. 

Basically, there occurs what I have come to understand as, a quarter life crisis. And when one places ones young self in the tumultuous context of the film industry it gets even worse.

An actor faces more rejection in a single day than most people do in the course of an entire year. It could be our nose, body weight, sense of style, the car we drive, the accent we have, the texture of the hair, whether we giggle too much or seem too approachable or aloof or the people we work with. There is a mask of diplomacy and an exterior one creates to defend ourselves or our perception. 

And there is the hopeless loneliness of the 20s. Friends  assume that one would  change after success, and detach. Relationships get harder to keep. Relative anonymity gives way to being always being seen and heard. Theres no dearth of alcohol ready 'buddies' or fake 4 am friends or booty calls. If for some reason,your bond with family or loved ones is weak,there's trouble. Theres now-or-never adage at play when it come to careers. A constant race of some sort is always on. The mind is active, even as one sleeps. It's a world where we're all victims of victims, and one that's seductive and destructive at the same time.  

 We were in Jalandhar promoting a film, when post midnight, while checking twitter trends someone read out this devastating piece of news. 

Jiah's  departure stunned me. 

Africa

21st March, '13

A lot has happened since I blogged last...  a few films, a massive feminist movement in Delhi post the rape of Jyoti, new friends found while old ones moved on,new relationships, new lessons in patience, new losses, new skills acquired and  a life changing award.

Much to be grateful for. 

(life in pictures will be posted in the next blog... The current-one is going to be disjointed, I can feel it. Getting the groove back will take a bit of time )

While my laptop has about seven unfinished passionate blog-buds that never flowered, my mind has a hundred.

 My teacher at Adishakti in Pondicherry, Vinay, had once said that the mind is often hyperactive during travel.  So here, after about a total of 16 hours of travel, 10 of which were in air, then first momentous blog post has bloomed...in Durban, South Africa.