Blocked
14th January 2009:
A dog once barked at me. I barked back it.
It was a long time back. I used to tell people this story and almost always got laughs. And then one day suddenly, somebody chose not to laugh at it. It was humiliating. I stopped telling people about it. Just like I stopped telling them about a lot of other experiences I had. Because I was afraid they might not understand. I am closing down piece by piece and yet trying to stand up. It’s tough. Fractured consciousness knows no medical relief.
15th January 2009:
A voluptuous weather-woman undresses on live TV and masturbates. The financial reporter gapes in disbelief. The sports-desk correspondent tries hard to show no interest. The producers panic.
This is going nowhere. I want more creativity; less corn. I want a keyboard that isn’t cranky. Coffee would help. Three big cups of coffee. And a bar of chocolate, maybe. I had read somewhere about it. The sugar rush; it helps creativity.
I need to get rid of all the negativities that have been eating up my body. Pull out an exercise regime and follow it religiously. From now on, it will be total organization.
I need to have faith in my own abilities. Look forward to living each day.
I need to work. I need to complete this first draft. Get an internal structure going and then work around it.
I should stop hinging on this one story and seek newer avenues without being overtly pragmatic. If I can’t write about people, I shall write about pigs. If I can’t get around pigs, I can talk about dragonflies. If I can’t stitch a story about dragonflies I will turn to outer space.
Maybe I could socialize a bit more. Observe people. Hey wait… But doesn’t that go against my theory that social alienation gets the best out of creative individuals? Maybe I should stop theorizing. They say, “Live life as it comes”. But that’s such a stereotype. I don’t want to be a stereotype. I want to be different. But then that ain’t a novel thought either.
18th January 2009:
Had a scary dream yesterday. Woke up in the middle of the night and puked. Don’t remember exactly what the dream was about. But, the puke was highly relieving.
19th January 2009:
I guess it’s time to go back to the basics; try defining myself. After all, what good is an artist who doesn’t engage in self-introspection every now and then? Where do I start? It’s funny but I can’t recall any substantial achievement to show for myself. In fact, the only time that I recall laughing uncontrollably in recent times was when I tried filling the ‘personal achievements’ section of my resume.
But then everything has to start from somewhere. So here I go.
I am Sunil Madhavan. I am a writer by profession and am at present facing a serious crisis of sorts, not being able to crack a theme for my next work.
I wish endlessly that I was a womanizer like so many other artists. But then, I am too much of a vanilla. I do fall in love with women who don’t seem to have any affection for me. I hate being criticized and I get terrible embarrassed when appreciated.
I am an utterly suspicious person. I think people make fun of me around my back. Not that I have any specific virtues or vice to showcase. But I still think people talk bad about me when I am not around. Everybody; men and women. I think my mother bitches about me behind my back.
Current Obsession: Monaco biscuits. They have added something to it I guess; can’t stop eating them. It’s like marijuana. I hate indispensability by the way.
20th January 2009:
So the weather woman… Why is she so demonstrative of her sexuality? Maybe it was a case of restrictive parenting. Or a break-up that didn’t go down too well. Can there be a larger societal reason to her effusiveness? Maybe she was making a statement… you know, like bra-burning and stuff. Where does she go from here?
Interesting sentences that may or may not be used:
“Domestic Violence turns me on”
“My influences have mostly been French”
“Witty? Who likes witty? Why feel gratified over someone else’s intelligence? I did rather gorge on another person’s misery”
“I want a close-up of the human soul”
“What do I think of femdom? I thought it was interesting, until it happened to me”
21st January 2009:
I don’t want my characters to learn profound life lessons or overcome difficulties to triumph in the end. Basically I don’t fancy definitive endings. If only life could just go on and art could keep it afloat… you know…
I wake up in the middle of the night and make notes; Lines that I think can be used. But by the time I wake up the next morning, they would have all turned into worthless pieces of scrap. I end up reviling myself for having written them. It’s painful
The weather woman has a twin sister. Biological similarities aside, the two sisters were like chalk and cheese (Need to get an alternative phrase). Anna, the weather-woman was the mouse while Teresa was pure dynamite. Teresa got male attention while Anna waited long to find her knight in shining armor. Anna’s closed personality was long waiting to break all shackles.
Christ!!! What am I writing here? Please don’t let me loose my mind.
22nd January 2009:
I think I am dying. I am not kidding. I really think something’s eating me up from inside. I can’t possibly find a medical term to describe my condition. But I pretty much know that this is going to be my last book.
And I haven’t done enough to achieve immortality through my work either.
24th January 2009:
Nihara just called. It feels so nice to have a girlfriend. She sounded excited. We spoke for about an hour. She could not contain her thrill of being in a foreign country for the first time and also her other achievements of varying degrees.
“I just realized that I could read Spanish”, she roared out of the phone
“Really?”
“Yes… Well…. I was visiting this Spanish website and as I started scrolling down I realized that I was able to decipher ever single word that was given there. Isn’t that amazing?” she snarled.
I admire childish enthusiasm. But Nihara is hardly a child. In fact, there are absolutely no traces of childhood left in her. One thing I despise about her is the fact that I can’t imagine how she might have been as a kid. She has always seemed this grown-up, this coquettish and this calculated. She has adjusted to her adult life with great formal perfection while I am still living my childhood.
I love her. But it’s disconcerting. She cares for me a lot; calls me up if I am not well. It’s so good to have her around. Just this one thing. Maybe it’s me. I need to grow up.
28th January 2009:
Discovered a small bump on my lower jaw while shaving. Should I consult the doctor? I think this is it. My time’s up. I should be writing faster.
So Anna walked up to Paul and caressed his face. He was depressed, he was weak.
“Why did we fight yesterday Paul?” she asked, rubbing her hands through his hair. He looked away dejected. She found his vulnerability sensual. Adjusting her night-dress, she drew closer to him.
“Why do you bicker over trivialities Paul?” she asked again.
Paul slid back still depressed.
“Domestic Violence turns me on” he replied, covering his face.
That seemed so contrived. Dear Lord, give me strength. I can’t seem to find a natural flow. I am constantly searching for my bag of tricks; the place where I stack all my quirks, all my inhibitions. When will I stop being pre-judgmental?
2nd February 2009:
Decided to head to a public place today. Just to observe people. Look around for inspiration. I think it’s better than reading newspapers. Went to a supermarket and brought 4 packets of Monaco.
Stood at the cash counter for about 15 minutes. There was an elderly couple in front of me who had almost bought the entire store. They had everything. It was fascinating watching the shopping periphery they had designed for themselves.
An elderly couple. The man was clean shaven and the woman had traces of moustache that were pretty visible. They were Malayalis for sure. How do I know? Oh I know. You can spot a Malayali by his indifference.
So this couple stood there oblivious to the world around them and unmindful of each other’s presence. It’s like they had long broken all forms of communication conceivable to the human mind.
I think we are all becoming so addicted to silence that in the future, passivity is going to be a bona-fide form of art.
4th February 2009:
Nihara calls up and informs me that she had cut her fingers without realizing it.
“I can now beat pain” she remarks and lets out her characteristic chuckle. I laugh along. We exchange notes of mutual affection before she decides to hang up.
Anna is an outcast. But she feels like she doesn’t deserve to be one. That feeling of resentment, those bottled emotions gives rise to an alternative personality within her. At some point I would like to tell the audience that both Anna and Teresa is the same person. Time and space should dissolve and the novel should proceed like a dream.
6th February 2009:
My parents get into a fight on who was responsible for my younger brother’s academic meltdown. They accuse each other bringing up instances of the past. Mom blames dad for his poor investment strategies while Dad thinks of Mom’s overt socializing as the epicenter of all turbulences.
The tone is a bit rancid now. But I like this. I am overcome with a tremendous need to study how relationships disintegrate and love fades away.
The doctor says there’s no bump. Was I imagining things then? And I am scrutinizing the lives of others around me? What a fucking retard…
Everything’s back to normal. They have made up. It was such a ceremonial affair, the whole fight. Mom’s leaning on Dad’s shoulder and they are back to making self-deprecating jokes.
I am happy that sanity is back. But, at the same time I feel like my creativity has been pushed aback by some yards.
8th February 2009:
Is there a streak of sadomasochism in my story? Well… too bad if there is any. Everybody seems to like sadomasochism to an extent. Beneath that veil of humanity, you always want to know how people were flogged, guillotined, sent to concentration camps or gassed mercilessly. I don’t condone those actions of evil. But, I need them every now and then to juice my writings up a bit.
What did Plato say about creativity? Should have said something for sure. That guy seemed to have an opinion on almost everything around him. I guess I should find out. Maybe, I should go browse the net for some time. Knowledge… Maybe that is what I need right now.
Ok… so someone’s discovered Franz Kafka’s pornography collection. That is so relieving. It humanizes Kafka to a great extent. I guess, next they should unearth what Aristotle did on Saturday nights.
9th February 2009:
I want to use the word “hubris” somewhere. It just sounds so good; Hubris. I don’t exactly know what it means, but it’s got a texture to it that’s so orgasmic. I should probably go check the dictionary and then go about developing a context to use that word.
12th February 2009:
Conventional wisdom is such baloney. Nihara called up and we tried having phone-sex. She kept asking me to come closer.
“If we keep coming closer, we might end up crossing each other” I told her in jest.
She started laughing hysterically; a laughter that started as a chortle and then grew in strength. Soon we both decided to abandon sex and settle down to analyze why were being so infantile.
13th February 2009:
I know what I am plagued with at this moment. It’s materialism. I think I am being an “audience whore”. I am trying to be a part of the future and not really engineer it. I should stop seeking someone else’s approval; stop myself from resorting to cheap methods of self-aggrandizement. I need to forget that I have done anything worthy in the past. I need to stop giving mock-speeches celebrating the success I am yet to see.
Anna longs for tenderness. She hunts for an intimacy that she had never ever got. As a weather-woman on a news channel she was more of a ritual than a necessity. It struck her that all her life she had lived under the shadow of her sister while she could have tried being like her. Her odium for her sister was an expression of envy.
She decided to shed all of that on national television.
14th February 2009:
It’s over with Nihara. Bad thing she had to do it on the phone.
“I don’t think this relationship is going anywhere Sunil” she started off timidly. “I don’t want someone who would make me laugh during sex. I want someone more relatable”
“Do I take you back to your childhood? Is that the reason?” I asked
“Yeah” she replied quietly. “I want an adult”
We ended the relationship amicably and I settled down on my bed. Thoughts have started to spring up in my head but I don’t feel like clutching on them in frenzy.
“Where is my energy? What’s driving me right now? What am I thinking about right now?”
15th February 2009:
Palatability I don’t care about. Explaining art, I don’t care about. Interpretation I don’t care about. Pragmatism is no great virtue. Morality of my characters is a serious concern though.
I have decided to give away the old story I am working on and start afresh.
Synopsis:
The story… It’s about a writer. Make it “A Struggling Writer”; a writer who has to fight his own demons and yet use them to embody his juvenile ideas. He hates his attitude towards the world but is equally afraid to throw away those attitudes.
He feels nervous around stronger women and the weaker ones turn him off. Insecure to the point of being neurotic, he is perhaps even unsure of his own sexuality.
He wants to be acknowledged as a high priest of morality but voyeurism he is addicted to. A mishmash of many a contradiction, the writer tries hard to complete his next novel. Struggling through the night, trying to make sense of jaded realism, copying from influential artists and attempting to thwart his recently acquired addiction for coffee and Monaco biscuits, he marches ahead, his mind restless and ineffective.
This is his story.
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wow. more power to you.
Sounded pretty ‘Bickle’ish to me, but, even then a sexy write up!
Nice! Break up on 14th Feb – ironical!
Really interesting to read. Full power!
Brilliant! One of the most powerful/colorful pieces I’ve read after a very long time! May your tribe increase.
I loved the way you write. Especially little reflections on human nature that looks so genuine.
Let me quote them :
“nervous around stronger women and the weaker ones turn him off. ”
“. I should probably go check the dictionary and then go about developing a context to use that word. ” – I do that, occasionally, with regrets :D
“You can spot a Malayali by his indifference.”
“Live life as it comes”. But that’s such a stereotype. I don’t want to be a stereotype. I want to be different. But then that ain’t a novel thought either. ”
And a struggling writer, wondering where the greats got their stories from. I guess I am one of the same breed :D
Finally a word in Malayalam, without being indifferent
Adipoli tanne machu..thudarnnu ezhuthuka..
Superb writing..the tempo had me all hooked..
This write-up itself could be part of a novel. Is it? It’s absolutely hilarious, I really enjoyed it. Please continue.
Wonderful stuff, Sreehari. Loved all the Nihara bits… very textured… perhaps like “hubris” is
I agree with @Rahul – after struggling for hours/days/weeks for a short idea and coming up with mediocrity, where do the good ones come from?
Maybe tomorrow I should go to a public place and observe people…
Thanks again.
You touched corners of your own self and mine too..
We are in same kinda boat ……
IF you reach there before me let me know…….
im thinking telefilm
need the rights
of course cant buy it off u :-)
heading home in 17 days .. whereabouts are u these days?
Magik, Wb, Indraneel, Melanie, Rang,
Thank you so much for those wonderful comments. Felt good. So good that I cant write now
Srinivas,
That date was carefully plotted. Irony is my cuter cousin
Tanul,
There is one line that’s too much of an obvious tribute to Bickle. But no.. Some people might bring up “Adaptation”.. No Again… I am hugely inspired by Dostoevsky’s “Notes from the Underground” (Though it holds no direct reference to artists, I believe that’s one book that every aspiring artist should read.) You see when u read something you ascribe on to the words u read a certain tone, a certain pitch. It’s a very personal thing. And then u build on the tempo for what u write based on that tone that u have stored in your head.
You read “Notes from the Underground” a certain way and u employ another tone altogether for “Ulysses”. Hope I have confused u enough
Rahul,
Mashe.. read your comments on my other pieces as well. Truly flattering. And yeah I am interested in nothing but human beings. Which is why I am repelled by some of these “marketing pieces”, or some of those “genre pieces” floating on PFC. I don’t understand the motive behind those pieces. I think cinema should be about people and writings on cinema ought to be about that effort that great cinema undertakes in its efforts to unearth human nature. PFC has lost a lot of its zing thanks to some of these marketing writers.
Shripriya,
So true.. Thank u so much for that lovely comment. Made my day
DPacey,
Sauhrudam verey, tele-film verey
Mayiraaaaa..
nee verum commercial keedamaayi maariyallo!!!!
Classy…This is all I wanted to say. Writing this sentence is redundant but was directed to avoid just a word. So the spam…
brilliant! We want more such posts…great read.
Arthi,
Thank u so much sweetheart.
Neeraja,
So nice to hear from you. Thank u so much da..
Brilliant! loved it! keep up the good work!
DPac!
‘Commercial keedom’ was a nice lil’ coinage..
Somehow, when I imagined you saying that, I pictured you as a bearded, bespectacled, inebriated individual [:D]
I dont know why, but I did, frankly.
And talking of bearded, spooky intellectuals, all malayalees here please do watch Pakalnakshathrangal.
Maybe its a bit contrived, a bit pseudo-intellectual, the movie is worth a watch!
Just for Lalettan alone, and the wonderful dialogues..
Nice write up..liked it
Sreehari,
Brilliant writing.
I can’t tell you how many times I have read it so far. First what I noticed was it was about a writer’s creative block, and his love life. But, then I felt that equally important was that little story he was trying to write about Teresa and Anna. Went over it again, and I thought that it is about that writer who is trying to find materials for his creative work. And when I read through it again, I started feeling that it is plainly about one man’s ambition, which incidentally happens to be creativity.
The last synopsis, a very fitting summary of everything that was going on. You have just made even an attempt to analyze a creative block into a creative piece.
Remarkable. Great!
P.S. I kind of got the feeling that you aren’t doing any bit of socializing these days, and just concentrating on self-introspection. Get over with it buddy. You are wonderful.
I wanted to tell you that, I was offended at first on that Malayali bit. Then, thought I will pardon you because you were just trying to be judgmental. Afterall, you are just a mere mortal who is worried over that little bit of bump on your jaw.
And now I have started laughing at your joke. “A dog once barked at me. I barked back it.”
And I don’t know what prompts me to. Is it because it is so trivial, or is it because it is reflective of a life that is just so impulsive. Is redundancy just as monotonous as we thought after all?
JRV,
Well, I think the randomness or the trivialty of dialogues stand out as obvious tributes to Truffaut. I somehow seem to connect with those parts of Truffaut’s films better. It might be an isolated piece like Jim’s war memories in “Jules and Jim”, but just those parts. Even in its isolation, in its tangential nature, it gives u such a delightful insight into a character’s sometimes inexplicable state of mind. I love reding those and I enjoy writing such trivialties..
And I really enjoyed writing this one. Cos not for one moment did I feel guilty. Because in its essentail texture this piece is unabashedly “parochial”. It makes fun of the pretences that an artist banks on to create his art. So every pretence, I could have jumped onto while write this, I was putting it right there in writing. And I could do it without feling guilty or too overbearing.
Thank u soo much for reading..
P.S. And for forgiving me on that Malayali bit. The judgements of the protagnist here are infantile and not to be taken too seriously
Brilliant!
I recently read a book from Chuck Phalniak called ‘Fight Club’ Interstingly, your style sounds a bit like Chuck’s style. I love the way you have placed your second half after a story.It might result into a good 3 acts of a structure of a story/cinema. Just craft it man… Fantastic
Brother!
Sandeep,
I just about know what a 3-Act is. And post “Adaptation” I have stopped trusting its allure. These are just random jottings that somehow discovered a topography, a rhythm that brought them together. I think we all jump into the concept of “writing a screenplay” too quickly. I think the first step to writing a screenplay should be refraining from actually writing it bang on. A screenwriter should spend a lot of writing “workbooks”(Like how Bergman did). Random things that come to him in a naturalistic fashion. He should collate them. Those things have a sense of truth about them, because they are so random. And from those enormous amount of material collected in “workbooks”, the actual writing of screenplay should begin. You are then dealing with something; with life, with people, with issues, things that interest you. One thing may lead to another, and you end up discovering materials that you might have never hitherto considered to be “cinematically viable”.. You are then not writing something specifically to excite an audience.
I just hope that made sense..
hey Sree,
I agree with you 100% and what u said makes a perfect sense to me. However, I’m not sayin to follow the 3 act structure the way it is… I’m just sayin, ensure all the elements of the story structure are in place. so you immediately know if ur story is turning abrupt or what is missing or what should be added!
Keep writing! n if possible mail me too… (imsandeep000@gmail.com) i’d love to read.. especially the style u’ve developed..
Amazing!You seem to have included almost every struggling writer traits;occassional self introspections,the search for all possible elixirs to induce creativity,to observe or to immerse,moraloty vs voyeurism, mock speeches and the itch to use “hubris”
Hey by the way, What is “Three quarters of pretense and a quarter of a pure ecstacy”. sounds nice but don’t know what it means.