Part 3 / 3 (From the mother)

Why had they got her here? Yes she sometimes felt a little out of control and out
of herself… But did that warrant bringing her to a mental asylum?
All the people here were so vague. They stared vacantly at her – she was not
like that. Why? Why? WHY?

The doctor hadn’t even said till when. But no point in panicking now – her
daughter and her husband had said they would meet her tomorrow itself. She
would know more then.

What if they didn’t meet her?? Does that mean they had just left her here for
good? More panic. She could not let herself think that way. They would come
tomorrow – she was sure.

As she looked out of the window – she saw them walking away. She knew that if
she was with them, the pace would be a lot slower. Her husband walking ahead
very fast, always imagining he was going to miss some bus (even though they
had a car for years now) and her daughter keeping pace with him.

She saw what she knew she would – her husband not looking back ... he would
not even have expected to see her if he had – always so pessimistic, her
daughter looking back but at the windows on top for some reason – somewhat
misguided as always … looking desperately but always just a little away from
where she would find what she was looking for.

She laughed to herself – and they thought she was the crazy one! Oh but how
she missed them. She couldn’t wait till tomorrow. They would be there tomorrow wouldn't they.. they said they would...

Part 2 / 3 (From the daughter)

What kind of place doesn’t tell you in advance that you cannot meet the patient
for the first 4 days after their admission! …
“because it may affect them badly. In the first four days they miss home the
most and each time they meet you they will feel sad and want to return with
you…” the nurse had said.

“Okay”, she said– “but will you at least tell my mother that I am right outside
and I want to be with her but the hospital rules do not allow it? “
And the nurse had smiled and replied politely but firmly “No. Most patients
cannot handle being told that they will not meet family members. One more
thing – weekdays there are fixed visiting hours and on weekends because the
doctor does not consult you cannot meet the patient. You need to have taken his
prior written approval to meet her on the weekends”.

She could not believe it. She was furious. She had only 4 days of leave left. This
would mean she spends the next 4 days wondering how her mother was and
then she would have just enough time for a quick meeting, a hug and a
goodbye.

She looked at her father for some support – someone to echo her “This is
ridiculous”. Instead she found herself staring at a very lost, very fragile and very
old man who looked like the last 5 hours had added 10 years to his age.
Would her mother ever forgive her this betrayal? Because betrayal it was. Her
mother had walked in expecting consultation, the doctor had instead smiled and
told her mother politely that she would need to be admitted and that was that.

If that was not bad enough, he had looked her (not her father) squarely in the
eyes and said – “I think this is required and will be for the best”, making it clear
to her mother that her beloved daughter was the one who had made the request
for admission in the hospital.

And yet somewhere she did believe it was the right thing to do – perhaps the
only thing to do. She believed good would come of it – partly because logically it
made sense that expert care would result in good but also because any other
outcome was too unbearable to think of.

As she ate her lunch at the hospital cafeteria she thought back to the Friday
morning she had come home. By evening she had already broached the subject
about the hospital more than once and each time the discussion had ended in
bitter fights. She would drop it knowing that very quickly she would need to
broach it again later. On Sunday her mother agreed to go the hospital – just like
that. She agreed to have some clothes packed ‘just in case’. Her mother agreed
… to everything. She wasn’t even listening. She didn’t think she needed to – she
would come to the hospital only because her daughter has asked her to. And
that is why this was a betrayal.

Through the car journey her mother had spoken innocently about the rains in
Kerala, the price of fish – always holding her hand or reaching for her hand –
never once suspecting that this visit would last anything more than a couple of
hours.

The thought made her eyes well with tears. She longed to share her grief with
her father but thought that she was hurting would hurt him more. Best not to
look up now and swallow her tears.

When she finally did look up – she saw her father crying silently in to his plate.
She held his hand wanting to say something smart very kind. But her very
articulate self had exhausted itself – there was nothing left to say.
She would take appa and find a good guesthouse for them to live in. As they
walked out, she looked up to the floors above hoping to catch a glimpse of
amma. No luck.

A story in 3 parts (Part 1 / 3). From the Father

He does love her. Contrary to what his kids may think. A part of him wonders
what they think and another doesn’t care – after all they haven’t lived with her
for the last 10-12 years. They’ve been away. They have no idea what he has
been through every day.

As he looks at his daughter having lunch at the hospital cafeteria - he knows she
is like him and will not spare him the silence. They will eat this meal silently,
passing each other things like clockwork even before it is asked.

If his wife were at the table on the other hand – now she could really talk. She
would say how the drumstick in the aviyal was not cooked enough, how it’s a
good thing they have served hot water and how cold and rainy today has been.
But enough said. His wife was not at the table. It would be a while before she
was at any table for a meal with him. His eyes involuntarily teared up and he
wiped his eyes. He wonders if his daughter saw that display. He hopes not.

He still cannot believe this has happened – he has been to the hospital four
times now and they never NEVER mentioned that you cannot see the patients for
the first four days after they are admitted. You cannot call them either. He can
still recall the accusatory look his daughter threw at him when she discovered.
But he didn’t know. Had he known, would he have promised his wife that he
would be right outside and meet her everyday? She would probably wait for him
now – and he didn’t even get to say goodbye.

His eyes teared up again and this time he didn’t hold back the tears. This time
his daughter looked up, held his hand, gave him water but didn’t say anything –
ask anything. How like him she was. Lunch over-they would leave the hospital
and look for a guesthouse. He had not turned around to see if she was at any of
the windows. He knew better.

Our ghosts

I believe that all of us have scars and these scars define us. An estranged sibling, a break-up that shook everything out of you and left you empty, parents who don't get along, failure at what you do, disconnected spouse, death of a family member, abuse.. something. There is always something.
And these 'somethings' become our identity.

Deepika Padukone will no longer be the girl next door-turned model-turned actor, She will, i think, forever more be the girl who loved and lost Ranbir Kapoor, the girl who is battling depression and who so incredibly bravely came on National Television to talk about this very hard journey.
That grit, determination, the loss of inhibition that comes with a very public break-up - this is what Deepika Padukone stands for today.
...And Thank God for that! I would take this over the girl next door-turned model- turned actor any day.

I think something about these scars define the work we do as well.
Mahesh Bhatt's 'scars'/ghosts - the thing that needs to be exorcised are perhaps his relationship with Parveen Babi, his being an illegitamate child, alcoholism.
Almost every movie of his will reflect these themes - the angish of not being wanted by your father, the pain of being a partner of someone you love dearly having a mental illness..Phir teri kahani yaad ayee, Arth (also has mental illness), Zakhm, Woh Lamhe, Saaransh (alcoholism), Daddy (alcoholism)..
I'll admit that some of this is retro-fitted looking at his career trajectory but most of this you will see is so evident.
Farhan Akhtar for instance - there is a 'Daddy' moment that comes through in his movies that is unique to him... A catharsis moment, a moment when the son confesses pain to the father (Lakshya, Dil Chahta hai, Zindagi na milegi Dobara,.)
He may not have directed all the scripts i am referring so i don't know how that works out, but i am convinced there is something to what i am saying (:) of course, right).
I am all about the catahrsis moments, the release, spilling guts - that is perhaps why Farhan Akhtar's movies appeal so much to me.

My all-time favourite director though is Imtiyaz Ali. There is something there as well. But this one is hard to put a finger on. What is that defining Imtiyaz Ali quality.
There is of course SOUL. He is in his movies. But there is something else there as well.
I think it has to do with his philosophy of life. There is a circular theme in his movies - a journey theme. It is a big part of what he makes. A theme of the story being the same, of the journey being all-important. In Love Aaj Kal for instance - the theme that love will play out in the same way - Aaj ya Kal, you will have intense love, there will be a fight, there will be reconciliation. Highway is very literally about the journey - the actual one, the journey of her life
Tamasha to me was again so much about how all stories are the same, the boy has his part to play, the girl has her drama to live up to..the again and again of life till you break away from the rat race to carve your own road.
I could be wrong but i feel like there are ghosts , scars, ghosts of scars in our life. And no matter how much you try to hide it - it will be the one thing people will always see and identify you with.
Jaya Bachchan will never have the luxury of looking at her phone or her toes when Rekha goes on stage. She will always always be photographed (perhaps more than Rekha) everytime Rekha is on stage - Jaya Bachchan has almost no choice but to make sure her expression is blank, her face pleasant and neutral all at the same time. But the point i am making is - no matter how much she tries to be 'Normal' about it, 'We the people' have zeroed in on that scar and she will be called on it - as many times as it is possible for us to call her on it.
this is probably true for everyone but more true for people in the creative field, artists, writers, directors, actors. And when they are truly led by their heart in their craft - they will keep trying to exorcise that ghost in their hearts...
Not to ever compare myself with anyone creative, but a little story about me.. many years ago i did a film making course in Mumbai for a month which was conducted by the New York Film Academy. As part of that i had to make 3 short films: 1 film which was a minute long, 1 montage against a song and 1 10 minute movie. I made all three and in each one of them there was a very serious twist in the plot - in that there was a certain person you expect to be something through the movie and then at the last second you discover he is something else altogether. EVERYTHING I made was that theme but i didn't realise it. The trainer i was discussing my script with - he said you have a theme around - What you see is not what you get. A mask theme.
I was so surprised because i realised he was right and i it amazed me that i never saw it. I have since noticed that every time i write, it ends there... Things are not what they seem, there is a mask people are wearing.. it is always the same. There is a ghost of a mask in me... and it will not go away. 

baanvara mann dekhne chala ek sapna (2)

baanvare se mann ki dekho baanvari hai baatein

baanvare se mann ki dekho baanvari hai baateinbaanvari si dhadkanein hai, baanvari hai saanseinbaanvari si karvaton se nindiya kyun bhaageinbaanvare se nain chahe baanvare jharokhon se baanvare nazaaron ko takhna
baanvara mann dekhne chala ek sapna
baanvare se is jahaan mein baanvara ek saath hois sayaani bheed mein bas haathon mein tera haath hobaanvari si dhun ho koi baanvara ek raag hobaanvari si dhun ho koi baanvara ek raag hobaanvare se pair chahe baanvare tarano ke baavare se bol teri rathiyan
baanvara mann dekhne chala ek sapna
baanvara sa ho andhera baanvari khamoshiyanbaanvara sa ho andhera baanvari khamoshiyanthar thara thi loh madham baanvari madhoshiyanbaanvara ek ghungta chahe hole hole muh batayebaanvara ek ghungta chahe hole hole muh batayebaanvare se mukhde se jhalakna
baanvara mann dekhne chala ek sapnabaanvara mann dekhne chala ek sapna

I haven't been here in a while and maybe you have stopped coming too.
That's probably good.
There is a lot of talking i need to do - to myself. Best to do it when you are not listening.

So 2016 huh! The year didn't begin well...
I am trying hard to not be superstitious .. but there it is - the year did not begin well.
i will try to be okay with that and hope hope hope that this year will rock! It really must.
Please, okay?