TO FISH OR NOT TO FISH

Whoever said and insists on saying, :There's plenty of fish in the sea"...........please consider that we don't just sit around with a bait waiting to hook an 'innocent' fish and there are not many fish that are worth your taste and time.

So what now? I just have to learn how to swim! I really do. Well atleast, I'll swim along with the 'fish' (why don't they have a plural for this!!!!) Time to cross over to the other side and see what fish do to escape being bated. Just a social experiment to test male comrades in the big vast pool of eternal fishing for happiness.

Talking about fishing, I caught 23 of those little silver green ones in the pond in my village. In 45 mins. That's a record...no?

Getting back to my real life situation here and out of the analogy (which I seem to do in plenty) I am not going to drop a 'bait' into the social pool of eligible, non eligible , interesting, intelligent, good looking (such a farce this word) , flirtatious, funny or irresistible 'y' marked species. I'll just have to camouflage myself and disappear for a while, perhaps for a really long time THIS time.

Also, right now 'Hootie and the Blowfish' 's song "I only Want to Be With You' is playing like a loop in my head...Got to listen to it to purge it out of my system.

Then again some fish just swim up to you when you least expect it.....

Sigh!

Melted chocolate....

I barely find any enthusiasm or energy to cook these days. If I manage to crawl out of bed and shower, I give myself 6 points and then convince some super human instinct within a nook of my grey matter to propel me to function for the rest of the day in auto mode.

Coming back home today after a 2 hour meeting over a research proposal I forced myself to enter the kitchen. In saner and happier moods I clean and cook but these days my life feels like my refrigerator on the defrost mode. Yet my survival instinct - which I discovered I do possess about a year back but highly underestimate - was pushing that auto function mode. So I chopped up a large cabbage with my large butcher knife (and discovered that chopping is good therapy when distressed but no , not in the manner you'd imagine I am venting my frustration at the hapless veggie imagining it to be someone's head :P), heated up some olive oil, threw in bay leaves, cumin and the cabbage and proceeded to cook it, standing zombie like of course while I mixed it all up. A little later impatient with the fact that the food was still hot and I couldn't eat it yet, I pulled out my emergency ziploc bag with chocolate biscuits.

Barely had I popped the first biscuit into my mouth the chocolate melted and ran through my fingers...and almost immediately
these two things came to my mind with the cabbage dish which turned out half burnt and the melted chocolate:

You proceed to spice up your life by choosing very ideal and fancy ingredients and you put in your faith (sometimes despite your concerns the 'ingredient' you have chosen is better at a 'later' stage) tossing it all in with the other mundane things that you are committed to like your career, your academic endeavours or things you JUST have to do to stand on your own feet. Your dish gets all to messy all of a sudden without any warning (You didn't expect a mess ...why?! remember the faith? and how attractive spices just never make you think twice of the hierarchy in which they should be tossed into the hot oil) and there you are standing by the stove staring into the stuff you thought would turn out fine if not fantastic.

I just couldn't help but draw the analogy here....well you put aside the messed up ladle onto a clean coaster and make the most of what you are presented with. You don't always throw away a messed up dish..it turns out edible in bits and pieces and that's how life is ...you take the unpleasant, unpredictable elements or turn of events and still hold onto the faith that all is not lost. You savour your sadness, your losses for the wisdom only those moments will teach you and not the happier ones. You eventually grow less cynical and afraid and venture to make the dish again even if takes you many days, months or in some cases a few years.



Chocolate...we all love it, don't we? It gives you a sugar high, it makes your brain smile and if you like dark chocolate like me, you always want to have it when it's nice and solid. But hey...chocolate melts and sometimes when you want it bad....VERY VERY bad. Sometimes you've been waiting for that dark chocolate to come into your hands for a while and can't resist the urge to quickly open the wrapper to sink in your teeth at the very first chance you see it.......only to find a gooey dark liquid running down your hands. Well, I say go ahead, indulge in it even if it gets you looking messy. Clean up after you've had your fill and smile because you atleast got to taste your much 'craved' for chocolate even if it decided to surprise you with a change of form

C'est la vie....non?

THE BEGINNING OF MANY MORE...... CAZENOVIA

One of the biggest advantages of living in Syracuse that is located in the North East of America is it's picturesque getaways. This entire area close to the 'finger lakes' is believed to have experienced the ice age at its most intense phase. But when the glaciers melted and began retreating, they left imprints that are a nature lover's delight: massive lakes, waterfalls, numerous streams and rivers winding across the North East.

When I first decided to move to the US for my Master's, I wasn't excited so much about the prospect of going to University, meeting new people (which I think are the two best things happening to me right now amongst some others :)) and getting to see New York, Chicago, Boston and San Francisco and other historical/cultural cities that Indians tend to be familiar with (But I am getting to do them all gradually so hurray!) but the prospect of coming to a country that has numerous state parks and unimaginably beautiful spots to do trails and hikes, both of which help me preserve my sanity and bring me closer to my priorities. And today was one of my first and hope won't be the last.

One of my friends here is a wild child, not in the hippie-bohemian way but one of those women who feels unhealthy if she doesn't go on her long jogs or venture out into an intense hike. Having studied Greek art and history in Greece and travelled Eastern Europe, Israel, France amongst many other counties, she's a very intelligent and yet 'down to earth' 25 year old. We were supposed to take off for Ithaca today but my garage sale hopping threw our plan off radar and so a little research, google mapping and scribbling directions (she doesn't EVER use a GPS because it's turned Americans into robots. The charm of taking unknown roads now and then and getting lost is incomparable to that annoying auto voice beeping 'turn right' ' recalculating' grrrr) and we hit the road for Cazenovia. A small almost too good to be true 'New England'ish town, half an hour drive from Syracuse. And i'm so glad we shelved our Ithaca plan because really made the most of this town.


An hour's trail into deep woods along the river and we found a secluded spot almost etched into the landscape with perfection. With crystal clear water running through moss covered rocks at our feet - ferns and emerald green trees towering above us - we lay on logs strewn across a portion of a stream. That silence, the noise of water gurgling through those rocks injected a kind of peace that I have always realised to be crucial but one that I have only found in my mother's village, my grandfather's garden and of course the occasional trails that remind me how much I love all that the earth has to offer. About an hour later, we got back onto the trail and jogged our way through half of it. I was famished and almost dizzy by now so we walked over to almost every cafe and restaurant in town only to see the CLOSED 'will resume at 5pm' sign. A siesta culture in small ville! Almost like Kokata where shops are shut post 1 till about 4 for owners to catch a quick nap :)

So we survived on a Granola bar and a banana and waited outside the Glen Loch Mill, a very reputed quaint old Scottish inn. To kill time, my friend suggested that we venture towards the lake. Well that casual 'venture' eventually had us swimming in the lake. I shouldn't cheat you here. I can't swim but that just sounded so much cooler and easier :) Well I did doggy puddles and floated around ...while holding onto the steps while my friend a natural mermaid disappeared for long. The swimming instructor was surely amused with my water antics but she gave me a thumbs up and said "Well atleast you are trying to learn". Only if she knew I have been doing so for the last 10 years. Tch tch

Around 6 pm we get out of the freezing water, change back and quickly head back to our Loch and place our orders. I barely get to eat fish here or rather i haven't been experimenting much in Syrcause so the spiced Tilapia Burrito seemed promising. Just that there was no spice in it. I must sound such a 'desi' :P Well honestly given that the jalapenos were the only spicy thing on my plate and the chopped tomato with onion (which by the way came close to the 'tomator chaatney' which Ma makes for us) was watered down with some oil....I wasn't too kicked about my food. I should have just been bold and ordered the lobster. That meal was followed by some decaf coffee again watered down and pretty bad

All in all considering we barely did any planning and Jackie had heard of this place from a friend and we set out with her map etching and navigation skills (Ripley's....you guys need to come up with Believe it Or Not for this girl who rocks without depending upon a GPS) we packed in a trail, a two hour lounge in a secluded stream, a swim (or a splash depending whom we are talking about between me and Jackie) a meal at a famous old Scottish Inn and a waterfall on our way back.

Whoever said the US doesn't have places to see and things to do? I just hope this trip is the first of many more to come. And oh, thank God for women like Jackie. Finally found my nature trail buddy :)

REMINDING MYSELF WHY I DO WHAT I DO

I have often asked myself what is the level of involvement that a filmmaker/video journalist should allow herself while working on a project. I don't even imply the kind of involvement that would involve making a contribution to the cause of an issue or one's subject. How about emotional involvement? At Journalism school (does anyone say J school??? or is that terminology reserved for the hallowed 'B' schoolers), we were always told 'be objective in reporting your story'. And it bothered a lot of us. It bothered me for sure. There is so much propaganda, hidden campaign, conspiracy theories or for that matter statistics and 'research' that convince you......sorry seduce you to believe in a particular aspect of anything under the sun that I am compelled (or was compelled atleast when I dreamt of being a reporter) to hold my ground and insist on enlightening folks about the 'other' side. Somebody has to do it right? And so I allow myself to be emotionally involved with my story. How else do I begin to understand the problem from the perspective of those it affects adversely?

Up until 2008, when I was still a Reporter (for a show focussing on urban and human issues for Times Now in India) there were plenty of times i allowed myself to be emotional about my story. That helped me write my scripts better and not stage my PTCs. Which is something all reporters seem to love doing these days because well they believe it's their 'Miss Universe' moment. You know the kind where what you say will decide if you are the winner. The focus is NOT on what you are saying but how tearful or emotional you seem. Piece to Cameras, by the way is broadcast parlance for the short sound byte that a reporter gives at the end or middle of a story to summarise it or give some perspective. It's another matter that it's no longer 'short'. Most journalists fall in love with their 'image' and the PTC could get you flak from your producer if you didn't have your make up on. Even if you were in a slum reporting on the rights of a girl child being denied education.

There was a point where I realised that I wasn't patient enough to last the neuroticism that a reporter's world comprises. I wanted to make short narrative films or advertisements, Public Service Advisory films or just documentary films that help me to tell a story in manner that I can really move my viewer. If my viewer mulls over what I created for him to see say while brushing his teeth, speaks about what he feels with more people and takes a significant step, any step, small or big - which furthers a cause or improves someone's life or makes other people want to sit up and read or talk more about 1 of the million issues that we visual storytellers need to address in our work - I would feel content. You may of course tell me that's not even half as good as watching a great news piece on the prime time bulletin show about the same issue. But I'll stand by this.

Getting back to my point of emotional involvement with my story. A friend of mine from Newhouse needed me to help shoot her documentary film on a CAFO (Contained Animal Feeding Operation) that is being planned half an hour away from Syracuse where I am pursuing a Master's degree. The area has been a hub for community and family farms for decades and now a company called BION is trying to push it's way in to this small town to start an ethanol plant. Now if you know anything about the debate on clean fuel then you would say "Hey Ethanol! That's a clean substitute for dirty crude oil, petrol etc. That's great!" And then if you knew more about how businesses dealing with clean and efficient energy alternatives are rewarded benefits in raking up carbon points you would say "Wow! That's environmental friendly business. Thumbs up!". However, I learnt a very important 'other' side of the carbon trading and environmental friendly alternatives we get to hear of these days. And that brings me back to the 'other' side of a story that is often not addressed or explored by journalists in their 'breaking headline' or 'prime time top news'. The vital piece of information which when placed in a context gives an issue an entire new dimension, sometimes a very frightening one.

As I stood by filming local farmers speak at the town council about their reasons for not wanting BION to step into their agricultural lands, not bring in 72,000 cattle that will produce manure for the ethanol plants, manure that will contaminate their waters, pollute the air and eventually threaten the livelihood of small farm holders, I couldn't help but feel afraid. Afraid, angry and anxious that these mothers, grandparents and youngsters of the community were entitled to feel. The whole guise of a meat processing plant that brings into your little town the potential to wreck havoc for your kids and for your life as you have lived it for generations could be devastating enough to give me nightmares to ruin my health for good. And to hear these ordinary men and women articulating their concerns in the most witty, intelligent yet dignified manner while dealing with a board of members with potential vested interests in the ethanol project or even the BIOn representatives seated in the meeting was to say the least an experience that gave me 'goose bumps'. Trust the BION representative (who by the way lives on Long Island) that he would live next to the ethanol plant if he had to. And that the community has the right to shut the plant if it affects them adversely. Sure! How many times have we heard of that really happening. It's like letting your dog take a dump on the nicest patch of your neighbor's garden and then say "Oh sorry, I didn't know it could kill your Petunias. I'll clean up now". This after the lovely petunias have wilted away and the poop has already left a stink that caused you migraines and probably woken you out of your deepest slumber.

And so I asked myself. It affects me. This affects me. Anything I film or choose to film matters the way that story is unfolding before my eyes. Be it a fictitious set of events or real life scenarios for a documentary (of course going by some classes I took this summer what a documentary really can do in terms of integrating fiction into its narrative has thrown up a whole new meaning for that format). Here I was managing white balance and holding the boom for my friend's film and I was almost impatient that she wasn't getting the perspective shot of the BION guys shooting each other meaningful looks while a mother of two explained what her research had thrown up. That BION was all about a profit making ethanol business that would rake in huge carbon points because of it's apparent 'clean' energy initiative. The irreversible effect of a 72,000 cows forever changing the topology of a small town of traditional farmers of course had no consequence to either BION or the authority that will award it the 'monetary' trophy for a seemingly 'valorous' step in creating clean business concepts.

Perhaps this is the last time I will be lending my friend a hand for her film. But it still makes me want to tell the stories that need to be told. And I need to remind myself of that now and then.

*****San Francisco******

Maintaing a blog these days is equivalent to the act of clicking pictures. You know that self-imposed pressure of carrying your camera wherever you go to capture anything new you see or capture anything at all (!!!!) Especially if you are traveling to new places? In the end you become like this robot on auto-mode:click, click, click, click, click and you barely even seem to be noticing anything else happening around you because your brain is so busy getting the right light, worrying about the aperture ityadi ityadi....Blogs do the same thing to you! Barely have you had this life changing experience, or met someone you never imagined you would or made this adventurous trip somewhere, you are running back to your laptop to go 'clackity-cak' non-stop (as my friend puts it) so that your avid blog followers can be entertained with yet another juicy post.

I am almost an anomaly to the world of bloggers considering I write at my own pace and mostly for myself. But of late, the grey cells in my brain are tingling with ideas, screaming at me to cop in. Cop in to what you ask. Well, I am sometimes filled with wonder at how some fellow bloggers analyse their most personal experiences, encounters (ahem ahem) almost everyday in most scinitillating detail. The result being that the whole virtual domain seems to be diverting its traffic to that one post. I am no prude dudes but rather just an objective blogger almost envious at how some blogposts (you know the semi chick lit types that have loads of sex, 'ya's and 'na's in every sentence brimming over with 'Hinglish') are converted to a novel.

Fantabulous isn't it? That blogger gets to make a couple of lakhs in royalty (forget the amount that comes with signing the first draft off to a publisher) and attain fame good enough to get another book published.

I confess! I am tempted to do this sometimes. Just that the Mitras would turn scarlet of some of my personal travails were up for the whole public. Hmmmm I shall return to this train of thought later.

Getting back to what this post was really about. I am on a week long vacation in the west-coast visiting my sister and brother-in-law. From working as an Assoc Producer for UTV in Mumbai to my semi-sabbatical stint in Bhubaneswar in (my home town in Orissa, India) to beginning my sojourn as a Master's student in New York to now hopping between Berkley and San Francisco.....the things I need to pen down in this blog will exhaust both sides of an A4 sheet. And yet, I find this growing inertia or sometimes even a strong feeling of being intimidated about writing a new post. I can't help being so defensive folks. I am just very anti-journal format for a blog atleast for my own and it's ironic that I seem to be doing exactly that. This blog is increasingly resembling a journal. And I've realised it's easier to write this way. So here goes


Summer semester ended last Thursday and we were all on the verge of collapse. The final production of our non-fiction film seemed to be draining all our energy and leaving us with no time to prepare for Professor Thompson's test. I have to stop here for a moment and tell you about this prof. For 8 weeks we devoured his lectures in 'Critical Perspectives on TV and Film' (well more significant to American media but nevertheless eye-opening! The classes made me contemplate doing some serious research and writing on how Indian Television has evolved and the context within which it has come to what it is today, you know the challenges, political, cultural influences etc). Bob Thompson is a revered popular culture expert in the US. No guesses that this man is like a talking encyclopedia and that if you were is student you would be privy to screenings of the most popular American sitcoms and advertisements from the early 70s-90s that no network or archive would spare you easily. I am sure the entire class will miss his lectures.

Right after Thompson's test, 43 of us (split across three sections) finally got together to watch all our productions and I was almost so envious about the short films the other two sections had made. The writing was crisp and witty and I have to say the post production was very impressive. I almost hid behind my friend John when my film was screened. But Lee, John, Yu Xi helped me get through it with their superb acting and technical skills. Considering one of my main actors went missing an hour before our scheduled shooting time.

Pre and post screening had Chris, Anna, Carmine, Griff and Chuck at Chuck's (he swears the pub was named after him). I haven't done shots in a long while but what the heck, I did and man did I love it! Chris made some arbit declarations of affection and confirmed his undying love for me by picking me up in his drunken mightiness (he is pretty good at this considering he is carried Carmine who is super stronger than I am and I must add super attractive, brainy, funny. My soul sister in so many ways!!!) I also realised that I can play pool pretty decently considering the last time I did so was with my father when I was 12. Baba played billiards and snooker (I think) at the inter club level when I was really small and he was very good at it (just like he was the captain of the hockey team in his college days and this line has had some strange humour for two of my friends but more on that later :P) so I guess genetic inheritance ha!?

Next morning, waking up my legs felt like two wooden clubs weighing more than they usually do and my brain kept pushing me to hit my head against the wall to shake off my hangover. I had a plane to catch in an hour and a half. My sis and bro-in-law had generously booked me on a flight to San Francisco!!! So four hours later I find myself walking aimless and for really long at the Detroit airport looking for decent affordable food (ha ha what a joke!). I did find a greta sandwich with alfredo sauce and chicken and veggies (and you would think that's a combination you only get with pasta!). One tall glass of lemondade down (welcome to the US where even small is always ever a 6 inch tall glass and XS is only limited to clothing, so it breaks my heart to see large portions of food being served and most of it being thrown away..sigh! I guess being from a 'third world country' has its own moral dilemmas even when it comes to consumption of food) my head hurt less so I walked straight to the waiting area. An hour later I found myself sandwiched in the middle seat, like that thin slice of ham between symmetrical pieces of rotund bread. My co-passengers had fancy tatooes on their arms and resembled WWF fighters. They turned out to be gentle giants though:) One of them spoke to me in length about how they had flown to NY to conduct an apprentice workshop for plumbing. Indians will find this queer but I am so overwhelmed to see how seriously these skills are taken seriously in this country. I might get the details wrong but you have to study five years in a school to become a plumber and electrician etc etc..... India has miles to go with most such skills being categorised under 'manual labour' and the lack of professional training, salaried wages or medical insurance for the millions of men who maintain our homes, offices and institutions. More on this later.

I got off at SFO airport and was releived at how easy it was to travel to my sister's house in El Cerrito, Berkley. A few floors above was the BART (Bay Area Transit Station) so armed with directions, I hopped onto a train at the Pittsburg Bay point and set off for 12 Oakland Street. 40 mins later I barely arrived at my destination, that my connecting train to Fremont had just pulled in. I hopped in and 20 minutes later was at the El Cerrito Plaza. Getting off at Berkley, my bones rattled insanely against the gale and I resembled a quivering jelly. 15 minutes later, Didi had picked me up and we were attacking a large bowl of duck noodle soup at Daimon's. For those visiting Berkley especially students and my kinds who never seem to have enough dough, a trip to this restaurant is mandatory because of the large spread they offer at a very very reasonable priced. No wonder it's always packed!

Next morning, Pavan and me set off to SFO. Sightseeing with my bro-in-law is the most enjoyable experience. Apart from being a walking talking encyclopedia (he knows his history and trivia inside out), Pavan bhaiya as I refer to him, is one of the most genuine and fun loving people I have met. I keep telling my sister she's landed a catch :) Anyway, we drove all around SFO instead of walking around. It was like a quick recce covering key historical and cultural landmarks: civic square,San Francisco War Memorial and Performing Arts Centre where the United Nations Treaty was signed,the Coite Tower, the Ferry building (it's overlooking the bay and there are lots of sit out cafes where you can sun yourself while munching very hip organic spreads but very touristy so very crowded) and well there were so many other streets we just drove by that I barely remember all the names (No guesses why if you remember how having a camera in your hand barely makes you attentive to your surroundings. I clicked atleast 60 odd pictures that day!!!)

At the end of it all we went to China Town because I wanted very specific paper-mache string lights for my drabby room back in Syracuse. Now most people love china town and it seems they can be found almost anywhere in the world. Singapore's was amazing with its art collection, clothes and food. My only two prized dresses were bought from here for barely 9 SGP Dollars and the crab meal we had was one of the best I've ever eaten. SFO's China Town is very very crowded and buzzing with tourists from all over the world. I wasn't too impressed with the clothes or art pieces becasuse everything looked almost the same with very little creativity. One shop though had great SFO souvenirs so I did buy 4 shot glasses and then headed to a shop dealing in utensils and kitchen accessories. Now this may surprise you, but I love looking at kitchen ware especially if it's clay, ceramic, wood and old world stuff. Walk into a 'Wok' shop in any China Town and if you are a foodie and you love cooking you can spend a very happy one-two hours picking up all kinds of amazing kitchen paraphernelia. Overall I would rate SF's China Town 2 stars down from the 4 I gave to SGP but you would have a good time at this place if

a) your pockets are jingling
b) you are a woman who loves and knows her jewellry
c) a kitchen-a-holic LIKE ME :D

Didi joined us midway through after attending a very boho wedding at Redwoods ((My sister's high point of delight was that the bride was crazy and happy enough to be dressed on the loveliest white gown ever sans clean underarms, threaded eyebrows or any make up evening and that she ate bison meat...I would have termed it a hippie-like wedding and envied her for the experience.



Talking about hippies, the Haight Ashbury street in SFO is where it all began. This street will leave you stunned, smiling and swearing for more as you make your way through street bands, weed smoking happy yet crazy dudes, the whackiest of shop displays and my favourite a shop that sells bongs and weed smoking apparatus in all shapes, sizes and colours. Didi is a potter ( the professional kind mind you, one who has studied pottery under contemporary Chinese masters in SGP, spends hours at a local studio on getting her glaze and chemical right) and recently set about exploring her skill with glass. So both of us just drooled away as we treated our eyes to the sight of beautifully blown painted glass bongs stacked away in shelves that we lost count of in a psychadelic trance that magnificent shop left us in. I walked away heavy hearted because a) I could not take pictures and b) because buying a thumb sized piece costs $20

My heart was heavy and my stomach rather empty so I was only too delighted at my sister's suggestion that we head to their favourite Burmese restaurant 'Mandalay'. I am not joking when i say this, but you can eat this food almost everyday without feeling cloyed by its taste. Can get super spicy but has so much fresh ingredients in it that it's wholesome and light both for your palette and ponch :) I can't recall what we exactly ate but there was this Pepper soup with bean thread (lovely transparent tendril like thin noodles made from what we Indians called 'urad' dal. As I played with some around my bowl, I couldn't help thinking of the 'tree of Souls' from Spielberg's Avataar :) ), followed by some yummilicious noodles that had chilli flakes, fried and raw onion, chicken, lemon, some herbs that gave the lime in it the perfect zing and wait for it lamb with veggies...aaah. And of there was rice wine, Haiku beer (nice rose flavoured light Japanese beer) and Sangria to go with our meals, so I would have gone to heaven very happy if I had to die that day. I was recalling the peanut, lime chilly delight to a friend back in India and he told me his sojourn with Naga food, so that's definitely next on my list when I am next visiting India. Think I should and must start a food blog..yep!

Sunday we walked around Golden Gate park competing and almost fighting to take pictures. The poor camera! But 40 pics down and an hour of touching them up with iPhoto, I think my 100 odd pics on facebook will have me gazing in narcissistic awe of my amateur photography skills. I am proud of some of those pieces! Th trail was peaceful and nice and the air smelled crisp and earthy...sigh! How I wish I could have access to parks like this back in India. And to top it all yesterday Didi and I drove down to Linden Park well it's more of a protected forest area. We chose a sunny expanse of rolling green dunes, plucked mulberries off nearby shrubs and plonked down out mats to sun ourselves. Green below, blue above and happiness running through my veins stained mulberry scarlet: heavenly!

The last two days have been dedicated to cooking at home, cleaning, catching up on a lot of films that I hadn't found time for. Watched the Royal Tenenbaums (I would kill to work with Wes Anderson), half of a spanish film called 'Cautiva', Satyajit Ray's 'Jalsaaghar' = 'The Music Room' and 3 episodes of 30 Rock which my sister is a die hard fan of (she would kill to work with Tina Fey :)). Tenebaums was a good exercise for a film student, I learnt trivia and style from Jugal who explained its 'mumblecore' style. I can't wait to write something in this style considering it's a challenging yet much easier form of dialogue since it's staged. Shall wait for Jugal to be dine with his book by end 2011 and my Dramatic Writing classes this fall with Hollenback. I am convinced if I put in enough effort and discipline we could have a great script under our belt.

A word for Ray fans. I am one too but don't get me wrong I think this was one of his bad pieces! The movie had three clear points where I though 'Yes this is the denoument' adn yet it stretched on to nothingness and pointlessness. Wasn't too kicked about watching this one but I'm hoping the next 3 I've lined up will more than make up for my disappointemnt :'Joy Baba Feloonath', 'Chidyaghar'and 'Ghorey Bairey' (one of my uncles gifted Pavan and didi the entire Ray collection for their wedding. Thank you Kaku!)

Which brings me to what I did today. My sister had an appointment with her physio so I was again ceremoniously handed (pampered) a google map with multiple art galleries marked out for me to visit. We parted ways at the the Montgomerry BART stop in downtown SFO (which is a mild version of walking down a crazy yet beautiful street in Manhattan) and I armed with my map bravely set out to search Xanadu, Frankel and Haines gallery. I suck at reading maps by the way and the biggest living testament to this is my dear friend Vasundhara who spared me none of her madness in Pondicherry while we looked around for old churches with a guide map I seemed to be holding wrong at any given point. I must have given off the 'I am completely lost....HELP!" look because the next minute, a guy walks upto me saying "Are you lost ? Need some help?" I was about to say no thank you wanting to avid a conversation with a stranger but suddenly that my saviour was no random guy but the city police (or was he a guide personnel??). I pointed at my map and mumbled Geary Street and mr saviour was thrilled that i was looking for an art gallery he once worked in so easy weezy, in ten minutes I am in this majestic building with three floors designated to art galleries! Tra la! I was treated to some strange but mostly great pieces of photography, an exhibit of black and white renditions by an artist doing his impressions of Gogol's famed short story 'The Nose', some breathtaking sculptures of glass fused with stone and my prized discovery of the day..tan ta da ta da...drums rolling.....a children's book gallery. Why is that exciting? Multiple reasons. I love children's literature, I hope to write and direct visual content for kids soon apart from fantasising my own picture book for Indian kids specifically and the fact that the lady who ran the gallery had ancient collector's manuscripts and books from all over Europe and UK. We chatted endlessly about Asian folklore and her experiences with setting up this business and shook hands hoping to be some day collaborating for something I'd like to produce/direct. What?!! Somebody rightly said "It's important to dream because without that you will never 'do'. I think that somebody was me :)


I shall stop here and settle into my couch with a tub of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate fudge Brownie (I love this country for its rich CREAMY FAT laden ice creams.......GOD!!!) and a flick that should make me laugh. (Ray will have to wait for tomorrow)

And yes this blog is so turning into a journal!

******R*******

MUSINGS FROM SYRACUSE LONG OVER DUE

It's been close to three weeks since I moved into Syracuse in New York and almost over a week since classes began. Of all the things that friends have been asking me to share, write on this blog or e-mail them about, of all the things I will eventually pen down not just in this post but more to come, here's what I have to say.... You could be in a different country, learn about and eventually even acclimatise yourself to a new culture or work and eat with people from different nationalities, in the end our concerns are pretty much the same. I say 'concern' and not 'interest'. And that's ironical, because of all the factors that I would imagine could bind a bunch of us friends, it's our difficulty with handling humongous amount of jargon laden film theory expounding Mast, Arnheim or Kraceur's concepts or the fact that none of us seems to ever get enough sleep or the fact that most of us are at a phase in our mid 20s where we crave for happy and normal relationships but with the life we have ahead of us this year it seems like looking for the pot at the end of the rainbow. (Point to remember: articles on film technique and critique are enjoyable on a lazy Sunday afternoon , NOT if you have 20 chapters of such virtuosos of the visual medium for a test in two weeks!!)

Life isn't that bad however...yet! 16 hours of work for days back to back and ACJ's Broadcast training that resembled a drill routine every morning at 6 for one month have served me well :D On the flip side I continue taking my capacity to work and process information for granted. Going to bed early seems the only solution, but regardless of efficient time management, that concept once again compels me to brings up the pot at the end of the rainbow. I have two classes a day four days a week lasting 2 hours each. Prof Breyer's class has been very productive and engaging. Here's a man who worked with the Peace Corps, grew up in San Francisco (any guess why he's who is :)), brought some of America's most memorable sitcoms India, has apparently a will that proclaims he will die and be born again as an Indian (he simply loves our country:))and made numerous documentaries that were broadcasted on PBS. Filming and edit is on full swing for this class. Playing around with Final Cut Pro and understanding how film proposals need to be written is priceless experience.

Prof Thompson...hmmm here's a very famous man I am yet to learn more of . His classes mainly deal with Critical perspectives on film and TV. Understanding popular American culture through its iconic or most spoken about films/sitcoms has also been valuable if anything great fun. We were treated (some scandalised) to Animal House, the first of what many film critics call the 'Teensploitation' films, the forerunners of the 'American Pie' genre of films. Must say I was laughing through most of it while grimacing through other portions but having to analyse a film which some might term banal or simply disgusting, nevertheless helped acquire crucial tools of critique that a Almodovar or Wong kar Wai would not. Applying one's intellect to understand aesthetic and cultural perspectives when watching a film be it 2046 or John Hughe's Animal House will still remain a process of serious analysis.

What else...hmmmmm I think I might be finally moving into a house a little down the road from where I live now, in which case I will be sharing a house with two chinese girls. So new experiences await on the domestic front as well. Pavitra's friends have been wonderful. Dinners are almost always taken care of and not to forget how every body has gone out of their way to make me feel at home and give me a sound orientation of this town.

Coming to which ...Syracuse is going through its summer at the moment. Walking back home with the sun yet to set at about 9 pm is a nouvelle experience, taking the turn around the corner of my street to hear the organ of the nearby church playing out loud for the whole town...priceless! It's a hair raising experience to say the least and as if that wasn't enough , every Wednesday there's a farmer's market set up one block from where I live , right on the premises of the Westcott Community center (passing by which you'll often hear local musicians jamming). Can't wait to get my hands on wild raspberries and apples tomorrow.

I love the walk in the morning, I really do, that's the only time in the entire day I go through almost in a hypnotic meditative trance as I make my way 25 mins away to school. I am getting used to the idea of doing everything on my own, of having to tip cautiously but generously everywhere I go, asking for a box to pack up my leftovers (they don't do that for you here!!!)and smiling back to anyone who greets me on the street and saying "Have a good day!" (people are extremely warm and apologetic here). But I do miss my folks back at home mostly our fun evenings together of laughter over inane jokes, I miss the the wine swirls back in Mumbai, the random evenings at Toto's, the friends who made Mumbai 'livable' when it was nothing short of hell and yes.... a friend who made the summer of 2010 in India like none other.

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EN THEOS

I am watching 'An Education' directed by Lone Scherfig. Perhaps I may write more about the film sometime in the near future but for now, it's brought in a strange pensive mellowness....The coming of age of Jenny has me thinking ( I say 'has' because I have yet another half an hour at least to go) or rather trying to recollect if I had a distinct phase of my growing up years which marked the transition, my transition from a girl into a woman. The theme of the film is of course much more than this ...but just watching Jenny, her brilliance and the way she swims along with David's witty-charm -moving from her boring suburbian Twickenham existence to evenings at Jazz clubs, dinners in expensive restaurants and her ultimate dream.. a trip to Paris - I get a sense she will swim ahead of him . Or so I hope.

Much of what girls grow up with is the notion of finding adventure, affection and ambition all tied up , somehow in one packaged experience or an opportunity or more commonly all to be achieved from a man who they idolise or could be in love with or wish would love them in return. The smarter ones have their fun but don't lose themselves in a whirlwind of feelings that cloud rationale and reality. The more dreamy-eyed or slightly vacuous or the kinds that are smarter than what they appear but not smart enough to know what's good enough for them, slip and lose their way. The last I remember, I categorised myself as the latter one.

Fortunately, the last 2 years have perhaps been a period of transition unlike any other phase of my growing up (There I got the answer to my own question :D). Growing up doesn't necessarily have to be from one portion of childhood to another or to even the years that we are told we need to behave like adults. Nescience exists and remains throughout our life ,ironically perhaps intensifying as we grow older (because aging quite often makes one myopic ). I recognise how ignorant I am and have been. But I pat myself on the back today for taking a step forward to what I hope will make me well...a little less judgemental and more humble of how little I really know.

Enthusiasm is the key for now to survival. Incidentally I just learnt that the word enthusiasm comes from the Greek word 'en theos' meaning God inspired, having God inside your or being God inspired. This discovery has just opened up a completely new perspective for what I am feeling right now :)