no shades of grey

This exercise was called Free Style – in the sense that we had to write anything and everything that came to our mind. The idea is that when you begin to write, the pen should not be lifted off the paper or the finger off the keyboard. So if for example I was writing – my name is Aanchal and (suppose I get stuck and don’t know what to write next, I must keep writing ‘and’ till my thoughts clear). So it would be – my name is Aanchal and and and and and and I work at 3. It needen’t make sense, you are excused if you don’t follow grammar, spellings, sentence constructions, etc. The only condition is to let your thoughts flow freely be they structured or chaotic, meaningful or nonsense. This exercise is supposed to help one get rid of the writer’s block as well as allow all the thoughts that are in your sub conscious to come out. It is said that the philosophers and seers of yore indulged in this exercise as a result they were able to come up with stuff that would otherwise not have occured to them had they consciously thought of them.

We were asked to think of a beginning and then write continuously for one minute without lifting the pen off the paper. So here it is…

The hills are alive with the sound of music. Music from the nearby factory sirens informing workers that it is 9am. Music from the nearby fields as the tractors move through them. Music from the bullocks ploughing the fields as the bells round their necks softly tinkle. Music from the road as vehicles blow their horns, as the wheels sctrach the asaphalt or an occasional rash driver screeches in a hurry. Music from a bunch of picnicers who have come to the hillside for a weekend getaway. Music from a stero blasting from a nearby resort playing the latest chartbusters. Music from the kitchens of pots and pans and tempers flying. Wow so much of music to enjoy. But is this how it was meant to be?

And then it was time’s up :-(.

Last night I went to watch Harry Potter & the Half Blood Prince at Fame Malad. As ususal all the ticket windows had a queue of people. In my line there was a man haggling at the ticket counter with wife and son in tow, behind him there was a woman and then me. For reasons best known to him, the man decided to not buy tickets telling his wife “we’ll watch it on a CD”. Just when the woman in front of me was paying for her tickets, our man re-appears out of nowhere and demands the counter guy to give him tickets for Ice Age 3 in the rows that he was earlier deliberating. When I pointed out  that he had left the line and that he should join the line at the end, he had the gall to tell me that he needed tickets for his child and that I should act like an adult and allow him to buy his tickets. Well there was a heated argument and war of words and eventually I let him buy his tickets (for a selfish reason that I didn’t want to continue the fight and miss the start) but also made a parting comment about how he was imparting wrong values to his child.

I feel shitty about the fact that i didn’t any more than yelp, that the start of the movie was more important than fighting a wrong doing. But I really wonder at the audacity of people to so openly act this way and not feel a wee bit ashamed. I mean these are the same people who religiously go to temples, churches and places of worship, who observe fasts and other rituals, read their scriptures and then go and flout all the good things the holy books teach us.

How can one be so unabashed, so shameless, so nonchalant? Is it so difficult to co-exist in peace and harmony? To respect another individual, to practice what you preach. What example was he setting for his son? That it is easy to just arm twist your way in any situation. Maybe that’s good for life skills or as a self defence mechanism…but where do you draw the line?

I am disgusted at myself first and then at mankind in general. This world is heading to its end surely. Imagine if for 3 movie tickets that man could pick up a fight, then terrorism sure is justified. There is so much more at stake there…land, oil, minerals, religions. Bigger stakes, bigger platforms, bigger games. Will there ever be an end to it all?

Moving on from Bard’s influence, we now come to a very interesting exercise (one that I found slightly challenging). It was to describe a ‘tree’ to a visually impaired person using our senses. For want of any other quick option, I chose the ‘banyan tree’. Here it goes…a banyan tree through my eyes, ears, touch and smell.

This is a banyan tree. How would you identify it? Touch the trunk, it’s huge. Encircle the tree completely once to know it’s girth, all the while placing your hands on it. A trunk is the portion of the tree above the ground like a human trunk i.e. above the waist. Also while circling the tree feel the threads tied round it. Well these are tied by married women praying for a happy and long life. So the banyan tree is also symbolic of wedded bliss. Feel the coarseness of the bark like the human skin. It is smooth in some places and uneven at others. Smell the mud on the bark. the fragrance is similar to the wet soil in the first rains along with a hint of incense sticks (agarbatti), vermillion (kumkum) and flowers.

Next you touch the base of the tree and feel the beginning of the roots. These roots go deep into the earth and the deeper the roots, the sturdier the tree. Feel the roots to know it’s strength. They are like your legs that hold on to your entire body.

Raise your hands now and touch these hanging ropes. Well they are not ropes but hanging roots, another speciality of the banyan tree. Anytime you want to know if a tree is a banyan tree, raise your arms and try to touch any hanging ropes. If you manage to find any, then it is indeed a banyan tree. Feel these roots, they are thick. Tug at it, they are strong. Push it and it requires some effort. This means that they are sturdy and not flimsy enough to sway in the breeze. If ever you are falling fom above and manage to get a hand on them, hold tight and you’ll be safe.

These are the branches. They are also thick and strong and when you run your hand through it’s length, you realise that it’s long. They are like your shoulders that balance your body. Each branch further splits into smaller branches that gives the tree a dense look. Just like your hands and fingers.

Now try to hear the birds chirping. The banyan tree because of its strength and density is home to lots of birds and insects who feel secure and protected. It is not easy to cut down a banyan tree and because of this it is often attributed to a family. Just like a family has all the members who are together and indivisible, so is the banyan tree.

Lastly touch the leaves. They are slightly oval shaped (just like your heart) and coarse as they are dusted with mud. Also when the birds peck with their beaks or insects crawl over it, the smoothness tends to be lost. But some leaves are so smooth, you can slide your fingers on them. Leaves are like hair that cover the topmost part of the tree and also add beauty to it. They are also helpful in bringing us rains.

So now you know what’s a banyan tree. Here, sit on it’s branch, swing you legs and chill.

Continuing my writing workshop experiences, I will be posting the articles / short stories that I churned on the spot (a feat I never imagined I could pull off). The articles will be preceded by a short note on that particular exercise for those who want to know the details. Thanks AD for this idea.

Ok, this exercise was related to the advertising world. We had to take any brand (existing or fictional). pair it up with the tag line of another brand and come up with the body copy. Here’s presenting 2 of my ideas…Ad, Vincy, Jayesh, Tilak please don’t gun for my life if it hurts your creative sensibilities :-)…

Product: Kamasutra Condoms

Tag line: Just Do It (originally belonging to Nike)

Body Copy: Day or Night. Hide & Seek or Catch-me-if-you-Can. Handcuffs or Scarves. On top or Down under. On the kitchen platform or the dining table. Against the wall or Between the sheets. Chocolate or strawberry. Ice cubes or Champagne. Dotted or Ribbed.

Whatever your fantasy…Just Do It…Kamasutra Condoms.

Product: Mother’s Recipe Pickles

Tag line: Finger lickin good (originally belonging to KFC)

Body Copy: Mother’s Recipe pickles. Selected by a mother’s loving hands, tempered by a mother’s love and pickled with a mother’s patience. Every bottle of Mother’s Recipe pickles is guaranteed to take you back in time. To the kitchen where you stealthily brought down the jars while your mother was asleep. The tangy, sweet, sour, spicy taste on your tongue, the smell of home ground spices and the soft succulent pieces of mago, lime, karvanda or carrot. Ummm…we’re sure your mouth is salivating (at least mine was while writing it:-)) and your finger automatically finds its way to your mouth. And so today even after all these years when nostalgia strikes you and you crave for a bite of your mother’s love, you reach out to Mother’s Recipe pickles.

Available in cut or whole magoes, lime (sweet n sour), karvanda, carrot and amla. Need we mention that it’s finger lickin good.

Hello after a long hiatus, I am back. Apologies for being such a lazy bum and thank you for giving me such flak for not updating my blog. Well it sure has worked. So here it is…

Last weekend I had been to Khandala for an overnight writer’s workshop. It was the most amazing break I had ever taken. Over a period of 2 days all we did was write. Write on mundane topics, write musing memories, write nonsense, make rhyme, coin our own phrases and the works. But it was liberating. Everytime I wrote I felt a nerve in me relax. I didn’t think of work at all. To top it all since it was Khandala, the climate was superb. We sat outdoors amidst the deep valleys, waterfalls that formed a small pool at the bottom of the valley and breeze that threatened to sweep us away. It indeed was serene, the perfect setting to open your mind and let your thoughts flow unhindered.

And flow they did. Brevity not being my strong point, my short stories were about 5 pages long :-(. Thank God, I’m not a journalist…would never be able to crunch my articles :-). The feedback given to me was, “you write well but you must learn to control your thoughts as they tend to get too long”.

Patricia Chandrashekhar (a freelance journalist and visiting faculty at Mass Media Colleges) had organised this workshop. An amazing woman, a complete bundle of energy, she was instrumental in getting the best out of us. Even those who were not into the habit of reading or writing managed to come up with whacky stuff. The workshop itself had a motley crew of people from ages 16 to 60yrs. From college students, journalists, media professionals, businessmen to government employees (we had 3 of them – one a civil engineer with Konkan Railways, one an Asst. Commisioner with Income Tax and one with Indian Oil). But out there we were all budding writers.

Well thanks to this workshop, I have a reservoir of articles, so I don’t have to tax my grey cells for the next few days :-).

If you are interested in being part of this workshop or the writer’s club (that meets twice a month on sundays at colaba), write in to [email protected] or call Patricia on 9821986924.