its was 7.15pm. I was palpitating. I had to reach back home. There was something about these meetings that I liked. and there was something about it that used to make me very nervous. I knew I had the ideas,. I knew exactly what to say. I was not afraid of those sitting around me. It was the same place where i had tried the fish. Loved it to death and decided not to have it ever again. It was the place where someone could not stop taking pictures of me and a place where I would sit and take photos of the endless stories around me.

Here I was discussing this story. A new story. How easy was it to weave it for someone else. I did not have to do anything. I would sit back and visualise. Wish someone could do that for me. It’s very easy to take someone’s confused ideas and put them in place. But mine seem a bucket of grease.

Making films, shooting, editing … sitting with a group of crazy people and making things happen was something I was good at. What happened? Looking at pages of script and coming up with a plan to market meant sitting with a cup of coffee and writing a 40 page document. Too easy…

These days, it’s waking up in the middle of the night, panting, thirsty, a bunch of photos and a lonely lamp burning to keep the spirit alive.


2 thoughts on “Thirsty

  1. I know what you mean!! Sitting down, brainstorming, getting ideas, shooting down ideas…getting better ones still…it has a charm of its own…and all the individual work they stress on nowdays totally sucks 😦

    Unfortunately work culture doesn’t seem to support that anymore…what with the rat race n all …

  2. oh what a lovely work!!! given a chance i would jump at any such opportunity to weave out dreamy “Real” stories day in day out

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s