The loneliest victory

I finished writing the story document of a feature film last night. Perhaps the first I shall end up directing!

What I’m feeling now is something I experience each time I finish such a document but it remains among the hardest feelings to convey.

I had fever twice through yesterday. Twice more the day before. Kept taking paracetamol 500s and kept writing. Why? Because there was a deadline. A coproduction market to take this film to. Among the several documents their application asked for, one was a story document. Writing is among the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life and I’ve come to realize that a deadline is a writer’s best friend!

So, when this one came up, I tuned out of everything else and tuned in to this story over the past fortnight or so. Some time spent writing, most spent procrastinating or taking the guilt of not writing. Alfonso Cuaron was once asked about his writing process, he said: ‘Well I research and think, most of the time I’m in the horizontal position, in a sofa or hammock’.

I was glued in to a specific beat, when I remember thinking ‘Oh, this is going to be such an awesome film’. Soon after, I thought ‘but is it too similar to that other film that’s already out there?’ Then I thought about that specific actor I want to get for this film but will he entertain an approach from a first-time director without the backing of a studio? On that note I wondered, it shouldn’t be that hard to get a studio. After all, we have a portion of the resources committed. But will studios be fine with the conditions of the existing commitment, I wondered! I thought of the previous 5 films, for which I finish over 10 documents - some stories, some screenplays, some bibles - over the past 6 months, with 5 separate people. My mind goes home, where my wife shoulders the sole responsibility of our two angelic children. How I love them, I think! My immediate urge is to rush home and embrace them. I think about how having work to look forward to outside of home, helps me be at my best with my kids at home. I process the guilt once again of having our lives such that my wife doesn’t have as much to look forward to outside of home. Perhaps that is the undying sacrifice that makes Mothers more special than anyone else to a child, I wonder! I drift to thoughts of how long I have before I won’t be able to pay bills and what I’ll do then. And what is up with Manchester United, why are they shit again and will they ever be great again!

Ya…I know!

Imagine slogging so so hard to climb Mount Everest, finally reaching the peak. And then? Nothing. No one knows. No records. No celebration. ‘Chalo, let’s go home, agli peak do din baad baad climb karni hain’.

That!