The story of a director…

Rahul Surendran   | Creative | December 7, 2009 at 4:54 pm         Print

Prologue: Prasad Siva, software engineer based in US, took time off from a busy job schedule to    pursue his passion – films. He had the script ready for his first film: which he had based on  Bhama, his chitta(Mother’s younger sister). Bhama had no longer been in contact with him and his family, after she had recovered from an attack of depression, after an (alleged) affair with her student. But Siva believes otherwise. Here, we trace his experiences, through memories, through diary notes, through emails…

Over to Prasad: It’s April. The summer has set in. The three month holiday is up. At the airport, I wait for the announcement. I have my suitcase by my side and a carry bag with me. I browse the bag. There is a pack of Lays, a bottle of Coke, my last year’s diary and the script for my first film. I have forgotten to bring the newspaper. Or that new novel that I had bought last week.

There’s nothing to do. I just turn the pages of the diary. Flipping through, well knowing, to where I am headed. I stop flipping and start reading…

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November 15  2008: Am damn tired as I check into the hotel room. The one good thing is that it rained. Heavily. Instead of Cochin, I wished I had gone straight to Calicut. But then, was it raining in Calicut? I don’t know. I am about to start my first film. There is a sudden flutter in my stomach when I think of it.

I go through the photos of the shortlisted ladies for the heroine’s role – most of it was trash – this idiot Aravind, such a horrible taste he has. Oh yes, he does say the same about me too. Surprisingly four of them seem okay though, look bold enough. Four out of twenty is a better ratio than usual, when our tastes for women are matched up against each other.

Boss calls up from Texas. IT Crap is sickening even if it’s on phone. I disconnect the phone abruptly and congratulate myself on my audacity. Not very long under you, boss, I am directing my own film now.

I have to fix a time to meet the four girls, talk and do a screen test tomorrow. I call up Aravind and fix it up at ten in the morning.

November 16  2008:: Yesterday’ rain was the best thing so far. Now today, Sreedevi thrills me as much as the rain did. Or even more.

I meet her for the first time, at noon and am stunned. She’s tall and dressed in a white salwar-kameez and a pink duppatta flung carelessly over her neck. Careful carelessness. She is as different from Bhamachitta as she can be, but I find her so similar – I can’t place why. I fix her up for the role immediately.

She waltzes through the screen test; I don’t even try out the other girls. Aravind is offended, Sreedevi was his last preference, he said. Knowing him, I guess he had a grudge on her, may be because she wouldn’t have been as receptive to his flirtatious solicitations.

November 20 2008: I had a long talk with Sreedevi. We went to the temple pond, sat on the steps and talked. I explained to her the whole script, told her about Bhamachitta. All those memories that I had of her – everything – from the first swim I had in this pond with her to guide me, the way she played the Veena, the way she chose not to marry saying that she never wanted to experience labor pain…

She didn’t blink. She just nodded on, looking at me, her face cupped in her palms as she kept tossing pebbles into the pond. I went on…about Sunil, her student…how close Bhamachitta was with him, how innocent the relation was…how my people, my parents and grandparents included, misinterpreted it to be an illicit affair…

When I finished off, there was a look in Sreedevi’s eyes that I’ll never forget. Then I realized why, right from the beginning, I had felt that overwhelming similarity with Bhamachitta – both had the same set of eyes.

December 22 2008: I haven’t been writing the diary for a while; as I have been too busy with the shooting. I hope to wind up everything up by mid-January.

Sreedevi has been a revelation and has already got an offer to play a lawyer in my friend Sibi’s yet-to-be-titled film. She has transformed herself beautifully into the character of Bhamachitta. I have been lucky to get Kailas’s – widely touted to be the next superstar – dates too to play the character of Sunil: but somehow he does not rise up to my expectations. Seems a tad immature, but okay.

Sreedevi though, is covering up all the flaws with her superbly mature, restrained acting. In the traditional set-mundu she, though starkly different from Bhamachitta, exudes the same charm as her, I feel. Aravind agrees, though a tad unconvinced.

I feel I couldn’t be more right in choosing the character to play Bhamachitta. Once more, after that conversation with my boss, I congratulate myself. God, I don’t want this film to fail. I feel it won’t.

We have decided to shoot the indoor scenes at our old Tharavadu itself. It gives me a high, shooting here. Since coming here, I am able to make alterations to my script, some of which I wonder why had never occurred to me previously. I rewrote some of the dialogues and now they look better, more authentic. The relationship between Bhama and Sunil looks much better on the screen than I had expected. (After much thought, I have decided to retain the names of the original characters in my film)

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No announcement yet. I open the pack of Lays and sip my coke. I open my laptop and check for mail – no new ones – I come across an old mail that I had sent to Aravind. It was in March last year. It read:

>      From Prasad Siva godfader@gmail.com

>      To”Aravind” aravindqzd@gmail.com

>      Date Thu, March 3, 2008 at 11:17 PM

>      Subject: Macha… read this mail…

>      Macha! How are you? Have something to tell you!

>      I have an idea for a story in mind…Have started working on the script as well, it’s almost    complete…

>     You remember Bhamachitta? My mother’s cousin…? I’ve told you na?

>      I came to know she is in Ahmedabad now. Anindita met her it seems on one of her trips to Baba’s  Ashram.  Ani is sure that it is her…

>      We all had no idea where she went after she was discharged from hospital after that attack   of depression…

>       I can’t stop thinking of her for the last one month…

>       After shooting, I’ll go and     meet her in Ahmedabad. I will watch my film with her…I hope she agrees to meet me…

>      Man, I think I know how she got that attack of depression…somehow I feel it…That’s what my film   is about.

>     She will never do such a stupid thing as to get into an affair with her   own student.

>      Maybe through my story, I could do away the wrong that our people did to her… Bring out the truth…

>     Call me back when you see this mail. I’m feeling so inspired…I might take a long leave from here very soon…

>    Be  ready…ciao…Bye.

I shut down the laptop and go back to my diary. I read the next entry, which was on Christmas Eve. As I read, I can almost hear the drum beats, the Kathakali song, the prayer chants from the temple, and the same sick feeling rises up in my stomach…In spite of which, I read on.

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December 24 2008

‘Nalacharitham’ is being played on the stage. Damayanthi is at her sensous, romantic best, sharing the stage with Nala…

I am sitting in the corner of the temple compound. Sreedevi sits a few paces ahead. She is wearing a rose petal in her hair, sits inclined with a palm planted on the ground. I feel it is Bhamachitta herself is in front of me. Kailas is by her side.

Then suddenly I spot it. Her hand is in his. He looks around, makes sure no one was seeing and pinches her. A giggle escapes her mouth, which she suppresses consciously. Then he gets up, walks away into the darkness. A while later she disappears into the same corner.

Ever since I met her, Sreedevi’s each action had seemed so familiar. So soothingly familiar. She always evoked a sense of respect within. But the expression on her face now is strange to me. Nauseating. Clandestine.

I feel defeated. I curse the moment when I felt like going to the temple. I have returned to my room and decide to go early to sleep. But I stay awake late into the night. There is nothing much I can do, but I realize what has begun to crash down within me.

December 31 2008

I am back from the hospital. Sreedevi is pronounced out of danger. It was an overdose of sleeping pills. I should have guessed this was coming. I didn’t, though. The crew has packed up and left. The producer is livid. I’ve asked the old rascal to come tonight; I’ll throw his money back at him and tell him to fuck off.

Ever since Kailas left after completing his scenes, Sreedevi has never been the same. She has lost that aura around her, I felt. She constantly stands in a corner, punching keys on her mobile and setting it aside in frustration. She just sleepwalks through the scenes. Before she took the drastic step, that is. I don’t know more details and I do not want to know. It is immaterial.

But somehow, I feel I know something else now. About something which had happened years back. About something which had driven Bhamachitta into despair and out of our lives…

I have cancelled the ticket that I had booked to Ahmadabad. Feel I could make it next time. Now, I need some time to myself. The ticket to Goa is okay. I am leaving today. I plan to take a further three months off.

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The announcement has come. My flight has arrived. I close the diary and put it inside, then get up and walk briskly towards the check-in kiosk. On the way, a red penguin, with its beaks open and holding a ‘USE ME’ board smiles blankly at me. I open my bag, take out my script and stuff it into its mouth.

And I move forward. It’s back to Texas. It’s back to work.