Extreme Rant Vol 2 Ch 4- Stupid Time

i hate time. Time is that stupid thing that always screws your Prince of Persia game up. Time is that stupid thing that you always lose and never gain. Time is such a stupid thing!

There are moments in my life that i wish i could relive... maybe do things differently. Now you must be thinking, this kid is only 16, how regretful could he possibly be?

Only a regretful 16 year old would understand.

life today has become a challenge, a competition of man against time, but more often than not, by the time we realize this, its too goddamn late! It is scary, how close Prince of Persia is related to real life. Each one of us starts off with a full meter, not knowing the challenges that lie ahead of us. With time, we gain experience, and learn the tricks of the trade. towards the end, we realize that it is a race against time. you panic, rush, and muck up even more, and you never get the goddamn princess!!!

People say that one must find solace in the fact that there will be a brighter future, and to know that you have contributed to molding that future should compensate for the time that you have lost in your life... what bull...
the only happyness or satisfaction that i would ever get, is if i was part of that future... selfish and self obsessed as it may seem. but unfortunately, life doesn't work that way.

time and i have a special relationship. It is the only thing that i know i will have in my dying breath... the only thing that i can take from this earth with me when my life is over... and for that, i am grateful.

Extreme Rant Vol 2 Ch 3 - If i had a candle

if i had a candle, what would i do with it? i would light it. watch the flame. The flame is.... enchanting. all phylo bull aside... real emos in play... i feel nice. i feel calm. i am watching the flame... concentrating on it... blocking out everything else. i feel its warmth.i can close my eyes, and still picture it in my head. in the infinite darkness, a candle burns, glows, illuminating the space around it, but its light is swallwed by the darkness.

Someone walks into the room...i look up from the candle, battling my fascination. this person begins to talk. She talks about the future, she talks about the past. i feel a pang of guilt... the candle is burning out, and she cannot see it.

That flame is gone now. I wish i could feel its warmth once again, but i feel nothing.

The regret sets in... *it was so perfect, i felt so nice... where did it go?*

The longing comes next... *will there ever be anyone who can share that warmth with me? will there ever be anyone who will understand?*

i dont feel like talking.... i feel quiet... so i say nothing.

Green pens and black ink - Part 2

ohk... this is the second part of an entry i made some time ago (http://udaikapila.blogspot.com/2007/02/ohk.html), about the documentary that was made last year. Since i was in India for most of the summer, i couldn't really do much, but i still kept in touch with Dhruv via emails. He replied to my initial mail, and gave me a second assignment. He asked me to look around India and tell him what I saw. If I had the chance to direct a film about India, what would MY story be.

This is what i wrote:

hey dhruv,
sorry i took so long to reply. i havn't been able to access a comp for some time...we r doin some serious traveling around... and so most of my trip has been in a car or in an airport, train station...etc...we've gone to kolkatta, chandhigar, delhi, thats where i am now, and all parts of harayana....i thought about what u asked me for some time, and then i wrote this down... please take into account that i havn't slept the whole night ;) ... i'm serious....

i was at a train station on my way to chandhigar from delhi. We were walking towards our platform when i spotted a lady in rags sitting on the floor. She was chanting, both her hands held up. she stared from one hand to the other. when i looked more carefully, i realized that she was holding a blade in one hand. shocked, i silently passed.

I'm in a car. I am looking out of the window, my headphones on because i can't stand the horns. I have already counted eight butta sellers sitting on the pavement, countless fruit carts, and even more rickshaws. at night, these same rickshaws have their worn out drivers sleeping in them.

now when i think about it, when i SEE these people that use a simple footpath, as the place where they earn their whole livelyhood, people that don't know where tonights dinner is going to come from, let alone tomorrow's, people that wait outside factories for discards that they can sell on the streets, people that dig through garbage for a jute bag or a bottle that they think might be useful, or sellable, the only word i can think of is 'struggle'.

this is an issue. not a small issue, an issue that involves and affects most of our indian nation. But why??? Don't we have the largest democracy, supposedly 'for the people' in the world?? is it so hard to provide a simple thing like education to the people. something that can give them some hope, to overcome their struggle? Some support from the country that these same people would give their lives for?

this is what my documentary would be about.


this is a very brief outlook.... ive seen to much to fit into one email....