The game is afoot!

It has taken more than its fair share of time to get off the ground but, finally, the much-mentioned television series is officially on. Finally, I'm off to Bombay today! And, then, for the recce to Alibaug tomorrow, where we'll be shooting in November. The ball has been set a-rolling!

Obviously, I'm not at liberty to discuss specifics here, except to say that we're working on a non-fiction series in English. While it is a 13-part series, the fate of the other twelve episodes depends on how the channel reacts to the first one, which we hope to complete before the end of the year. So, effectively, what we're working on is a pilot but, as they like to say, an air-able pilot...good enough to be telecast as is.

I think we've got a pretty good deal here, not only in terms of the budget but also the relative ease with which the show has come through. Of course, the waiting period has been killing but everything else has gone by rather smoothly. But, oddly, the show is the last thing on my mind at the moment.

What I'm really preoccupied with right now is The List. Each time I have to go out of town, I make a list of things I need to do before I leave. Nothing unusual about that, right? I'm sure everyone else makes lists too. Except that my lists are the really long, never ending variety. And, sadly, I've never been able to mark all the contents of my list as 'Done'. For some reason, for every item I cross out from the list, I seem to add a new job to do. As a result, the list becomes virtually inexhaustible. So, instead of the show we're supposed to be starting, I've had many other important things on my mind this week. For instance, buy coffee for a friend, buy Fukuoka for the friend's cousin, phone X, send a text message to Y, visit Z, clean the room, switch the phones, shift out the empty flower pots, buy meds...I'm still a long way away from finishing the 47 jobs I have on my list.

Perhaps I contribute to my own misery because, at most times, I start tackling the list too late. And, perhaps, my list is always too damned long!

If The List wasn't bad enough, what is bloody scary is this other thing. Ostensibly, I'm going to Bombay for work. But, even before I've reached there, plans have already been made to indulge in certain pleasurable, extra curricular activities. For instance, watch as many films as possible at the Asian Film Festival, which begins in Bombay today, join Tai Chi classes, visit Pune during the next weekend...hell, when am I going to work!

But, then, I don't care...I'm going to BOMBAY!

Back to the future

I was watching this film, If Only (Paul Nicholls and Jennifer Love Hewitt), on cable the other day. At first, I was startled at how much it was like a ten-line idea for a script I've had for a really long time. But then, as the film unfolded, I realised that, in its treatment and in the direction it was taking, it wasn't quite what I had in mind. To be honest, there's nothing really spectacular about the concept itself but, I think, it has immense potential. My own script idea stemmed from a personal experience and something that has bothered me for very long.

I remember reading somewhere, a long time ago, that we are able to deal with the regret of having done whatever it is we've done but it's the regret of not doing certain things we wish we had done that is inconsolable. I've paraphrased, of course, but it's true, isn't it?

Unlike the shockingly large number of people who claim that they have no regrets, I have quite a few. A harsh word, flashes of anger, little bit of carelessness, some indifference, plenty of impatience...I'm guilty of them all. Very guilty, actually. But, I'm okay with these indiscretions. Of course, I feel bad about it all but I don't kill myself over these things because I wouldn't be human if I hadn't done stuff I regret. I try not to repeat the mistakes but, being imperfect and all, I'm guilty of that as well. But, that's okay too. It's the second part of the statement that is often the problem...regretting things I should've done but didn't do.

How the hell do you deal with that? Because that moment is now lost forever and there's no telling what might have happened if you'd done what you didn't. (If you were Navjyot Singh Siddhu, you'd quickly respond to that by saying: If ifs and buts were pots and pans, my friend, there'd be no tinkers. Or, as a variation, something about his aunt being his uncle.) There will always be those small things that you'll regret not doing. For instance, the investment that a friend urged you to make but, for some reason, you didn't and, right enough, that stock shot up through the roof. Or, that absolutely lovely khaki-ish cargos at Benetton that you didn't buy because you thought it was a size too large. Man, I could kill for that! Depending on the size of one's greed and desire, a periodic kick to self helps one to live with these things.

Then, there'll be those other issues that no amount of kicking will help. How do you handle those? Because you know if you'd done what you didn't, your life would've been different today. You can't beat yourself over this, I know, but the knowledge that things could've been different isn't easy to live with either. And, so, the only way to deal with such a problem is to practise what I call the 'sleeping dog' theory...don't mess with it, just let it lie.

In If Only, Nicholls watches his girlfriend, Hewitt, die in a road accident on a day on which he could've done so many things differently and almost all of which would've ensured that the accident didn't happen. Unfortunately, he does what he does and she dies. Of course, this is not to imply that she dies because of his actions. It's just that by choosing to act differently in the many situations he found himself in on that particular day, he could've helped to avert the accident. Anyway, when he wakes up on the following day, he realises that he has been given a chance to live 'yesterday' once again. So, after he has come to terms with the opportunity, he makes a conscious and concerted effort to things differently...to do them the way he actually wants to do them rather than in the manner he feels compelled to, either because of the circumstances or due to his ego or whatever else. There's a twist at the end, which, for the benefit of those who haven't seen this soppy film but may still want to, I won't give away but, obviously, he is able to change things enough to ensure that Hewitt doesn't die.

Like I said, the idea for a script roughly along these lines came to me in relation to a personal experience. And, ever since, I've wondered what I would do if I were given such a chance to change what happened back then. What would I do? Hmm...if wishes were horses, beggars would ride and pigs not related to Pink Floyd would also fly!

That's the trouble, isn't it? Our lives are nothing like the movies. Paul Nicholls' character gets a chance to re-live a day and change what happened. You and I don't. A pity.

The play within the play!

There was a time when, in college, like many others before me and, without a doubt, like many who will follow, I was fascinated with reading about death, sadness and, for want of a better word, similarly morbid things. In fact, I have no doubt in my mind that I first felt motivated to read The Myth of Sisyphus because I discovered that, essentially, it was about the legality of suicide. In those days, I used to spend a lot of time in the libraries in college and at the American Centre. And, when I wasn't looking for reference material, which was quite rare, I would look for books (Malone Dies), plays ('Night Mother) and poems (...it's not the river that runs but the water / it's not the time that passes but us...) that were, generally, about death, dying, sadness, depression, hardship and struggle.

This fascination with the darker aspects is best explained, I think, as a phase that a lot of people go through, almost as a rites of passage sort of thing. I'd love to say that my interest in this general area was purely academic but that would not be true and, if I said so, it would be only for effect :-) A little later in life, when passage of time had allowed me to view the phase more objectively, I realised that my pre-occupation with the subject owed itself entirely to a part I had been playing in real life at the time. Needless to say, at first, even I was not aware of what I was doing. It took a friend's friend to point it out to me and, amazingly, no one else, besides the two of us, ever knew or saw this. After so many years, I still remember how she took me aside and said what she said. What is funny is how everyone fell for the con I was dishing out and, even funnier, that, after some time, I started believing my own con! Believing it to the extent of actually living it out, from being an actor playing a part to becoming one with it. Man, Stanislavski would've been proud!

Hell, I even wrote a (very bad) poem at the time. Appropriately, it was called Black Dog. Actually, I wrote 2-3 other, really bad poems on this blog but...I swear...never again.

Anyway, this whole business started as a joke, which, unfortunately, my friends took seriously and believed...maybe because they wanted to believe it...and which I then kept building on. In the beginning, it was a joke for me too and, to be fair to myself, I said so to a few people but, like the indulgent parents of a child caught with his/her hands in the cookie jar, they dismissed my protestations as a definite sign of guilt. And, so, after a while, the con took on a life of its own and became real. Even for me.

For those who might be wondering about the nature of this con, it was nothing serious. No crime was committed, no law was broken, no malicious lies were told and, generally, nobody's life was adversely affected. :-)

I'd rather not mention the specifics here...after all, a man needs to save stuff for his autobiography, right? Or, at least, for a rainy day, when there's nothing else to fill this space :-)