Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Platform Soul/Field Work Notes

Statutory warning: This should ideally belong to what they call reflective narrative which should be the unseen but existing cousin of the fat PhD thesis which self should ideally finish after the stipulated number of years. But some times life spills over and since self has a propensity of chewing supposedly important bits of paper with a chutney of non memory, a blog which no one reads becomes handy.
I do love what I do. Yeah, it is a bit hippy and the sort of stuff which is some how the 'right' sort of thing to say.
Instance: 1
"Aren't you afraid of your reproductive expiry date?"
"If the aim of life was to wed and breed at the correct age would have never left  my sleepy small town."
Much water has flown under the bridge after that. Ain't a 'cool' hippy with camp gear and a caravan
Do you know what it is like to be on the go? But then, Khalil says
"But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears."
The crowd in the over filled train compartment is your caravan. Belonging is that tiny prayer flag which you tie on every new window.
I am at 'my' room from where I first packed to go out alone. After 12 years and many journeys, it feels like another hotel room. When I return back, to rest my heels amidst the charcoal blues of field work, a realization occurs. Home has moved from the place where it used to be. The streets of the town where I was born looks as strange as  the alien streets of London.
The field work site where my social awkwardness stews with the summer heat during 10 hour power cuts...My incompetent stodgy footage begins to smell of pixelation and I worry about curator priests, fat cat auteurs and the "professionalism" of their million dollar 'small' films. The sand in my mouth, the shit under my shoes, the paranoia of slipping under the shadow of the iron ways of Big Brother who aims to swallow the village, the sugary tea which makes my diabetes genes go mad- are they all worth it?

Am a just a Zelig with a camera?


  1. I'm interested in what you write about the field work blues... any chance you'd be interested in writing a guest post on the topic or doing an interview?

  2. Thanks a ton Eva, I have emailed you