Merry Krismas

I've come to the conclusion that one day when all is done and everything is forgotten, I'd like to revisit this blog just to see how connived life got for me at times. Maybe maintaining a blog or a diary is necessary to remember. I need to remember why I had a thought, what bought it to my mind, and how it plays out. My mother is an avid follower of Siddarth Bhanusali, a finance YouTuber and an exemplary businessman. She talks of him so much that I've come to believe she has an innocent student-teacher sort of crush on the man, although Bhanusali is 30-something years old and much more successful than most people of his age. It makes me wonder if the success that I once chased had any true meaning for me than for a sense of gratification from my parents' dreams. Bhanusali talks about BWY (Be with Yourself), a technique wherein you lock yourself up in your room, or if possible, a hotel room for hours without any source of entertainment. You let yourself get bored, you think about all your decisions and revise your own history. In short, you look for the dopamine booster within yourself. You become your own favorite storyteller. My mother said that I should do this. But for me, BWY is everyday stuff. So it is for herself too but it took me and my sister shining the light upon this information that made her realize "Oh shit, it's true."

Christmas usually tends to be my favorite time of the year. The weather is pleasant. People get lonely and bored. Deep midnight conversations, wine, and the allure of time just stopping with the stories from the year passing earlier coming back to yourself, and a wish for a better year coming next. This year, with my grandfather's passing, the Christmas lights remained isolated in the loft, no celebrations, no happy moments was to be the mantra this advent season. But it ended up being the most celebrated event in the Alvares household. With Vernon's wedding, the two trips we took - to Karjat and to Uttan. It's weird.

I realized a new method to introduce depth into characters and the kind of cinema that I adore. Depth can be presented with reactions to national events such as a murder that shocks the nation, or a suicide whose news is broadcasted day in and day out. Perhaps that of an actor committing it on the sets of a film that they just wrapped up. Or when a Tinder couple who've been living together for a while and one of them just disappears. There's nothing just about either of these scenarios, but a character's reaction to these events introduces a depth to themselves that can only be captured in the cinema that I adore. The Sopranos, for instance, has characters so well developed that it only takes a 10-second shot of them to complete how they're feeling. That is the cinema. In the words of David Fincher, it is behavior over time. Emotions drive scenes. Directors direct the audience's attention. Geometric shapes are cinematic. All of the things I learn now must be employed in my future work. I wish that I remain alive for it to be made. I wish that I live long enough to create the cinema that I adore. I will create a filmmaker's handbook with a set of restrictions for me to follow when I begin creating my own projects.