The Story of a Process

Empty Carousel - a play I directed with students from Madras Christian College. Performed in Spaces, Besant Nagar. Lighting & Design by Sudharshan.

Two plays, those that I talked about before are going through their troubling phases, what I believe is often the stress-induced sudden burst of absurd creativity. This is what makes a story told worth its salt.

As for me, I have grown tired at a very young age, because the most simplest things – sleep and food – happen at very rare, irregular times. But, this is the wonderful curse of a workaholic that I’ve come to accept.

During this process, the other thing I have realised is both disheartening and selfishly strengthening. Commitment is an individual concept, collective commitment is never possible.

For one, everyone leads their own lives, with their own confusions – starting from their morning yawn in front of the bathroom mirror to the tiny snore they let slip from the corner of their lips at night.

I am solely committed to these plays only because this is my life. This is who I am and this is what makes me. If you ask me, will you be committed if your work was to tally accounts – HELL NO!

I love to create stories, to engage people, to work with people and mash-up ideas. Of course, that means I could wait for a while, gather a few people with talents, similar aspirations and put all these geniuses in one room and over-work them in a monotony.

But, what’s the point in this? As beautiful as it can be to have a group of trained story-tellers telling various stories, it is beautiful to pick random people off this earth and put together a story from their lives.

Because, this is how we live. We live in fragments, whether it’s at times when we struggle or at times we rejoice. We’re here, we’re there and we’re everywhere. Taking what is available and at very rare occasions giving what we can.

I’ve always had this battle, a long prolonged one, with responsibility and “my way” of doing things. I’ve let an awful lot of crucial opportunities slip from my hands because of this constant two-person quarrel in my head.

However, ‘directing a play’, this is something I take so seriously, more serious than my food or survival. Why? Because, the ability to bring energy to a random group of people, to transform their ideas into a story, and pretty much, just being around to see their inner-genius transform on stage is beautiful.

I thank each one of the novice actors working with me on these plays. You have made me realise something far beyond my own constructed boundaries. It has been painful, tiring and sometimes extremely frustrating. But, a new strength came alive today that made me enjoy what I do, and re-affirm the fact that I should work, and for a long time, with new groups, which have nothing actually to do with story-telling. And take the joy of this story-making and story-telling to them, through them, with them and to others.

One Comment on “The Story of a Process”

  1. bleah « *** says:

    […] story of a process i wrote differently. somehow my mind was shut down to his words. it still is. some times i find […]

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