City Lights!!

{Visual Atmosphere} The frame opens with sweeping shots of the city. These sweeping shots expose the magnanimous view and the over view of the city. All of a sudden there is a rush that gives way to a dazzling imagery filled with quick cuts. All we see are various images and news reel footages of the city shot during the night as well as during the day time. The shots are filled with visuals of the dabbawallahs, the pedestrians, scores of people walking and crossing the road, traffic jams, screaming rings of the mobile phones, gangsters in the sleazy by lanes, pimps, whores, children playing with parents on the beach, cinema halls, and crowded malls. All the shots intercut into each other almost with the feeling of a butcher knife cutting in to your skin.

Cut to a normal life:

Amidst all the horns and sirens, my train Vidarbha Express arrives at the Chattrapati Shivaji railway station at around 7.00 am.

Great, finally! I've arrived! Excuse me, can you just you know, please! I need to get my baggage out. Thanks!

Somehow, managing to beat the crowd in the alleys of my compartment, I get hold of my rug sack on my back and take my air bag and make my way to the door. Well, this was the last stop, so not that I had a reason to worry, but still I just wanted to get down

from the 3-tier sleeper class compartment.

{The auto and taxi wallahs} Sir, auto! Sir Taxi lenge kya? Saheb, auto! Tula auto pahije ka?

Arey nahi boss! Nah, dhanyawaad bhaiyya! I get out of the station, walk upto the pre-paid auto stand and take a rickshaw till Tilak Nagar near Chembur. Arey bhaiyya, zara Tilak Nagar chaloge?

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{Visual Atmosphere} The imagery on the screen is played out in slow-motions intercutting between the faces of the public and that of the protagonist. Each time we see the face of the protagonist – we slowly track into his face.

I dump my rug sack and my air bag in the auto and move. The auto is speeding towards Tilak Nagar, and as it scampers through the main road and then the by lanes of a crowded city, a barrage of faces just crosses my vision. It almost seems like an endless sp

ectrum of people coming at you. After filling the sights and sounds of the streets, I finally reach Tilak Nagar. Kitna hua bhaiyya, I ask the auto wallah. 75 rupees sir! replied the Auto wallah.

I paid the auto wallah and got my luggage out. He turned around and went. As I stood at the road, I looked up at the building. T

his building was the one where I was gonna stay in this "city of dreams".

Chawl number 69, Tilak Nagar, Near Chembur, Bombay was my new address.

I go up and speak to my landlord. Bhai saheb, zara kholi ki chaabi denge kya? Main is kholi ka naya kirayedaar hoon.

The landlord asked me to wait and went inside to get the keys. Yeh lo re baba, kholi ki chaabi. Agreement thoda ek mahiney baad de doon toh chalega, kya, asked the owner. I said, haan bhai saheb, chalega! Koi tension nahi.

I take the keys and go up to my chawl. The building is a run-down building compared to the comfortable house that I used to stay in Nagpur. But nevertheless, I had come to the city wit h an aspiration to make it big and make it big in the field of cinema. I wanted to be a director. Like countless people who flocked the city everyday with a dream in their eyes, a dream of conquering this city, I also came here with pretty much the same dream.

I open the doors of my dilapidated room. The room was messed up, but then this was something I had known about this city. "Maangne se khuda milta hai yahan, lekin makaan nahi milta", I thought to myself. The room had a folding cot, with a mattress. There was a window which opened to the site of a sewer and the low-lying areas of the slum that I was living in. There were a few cartons loaded with empty bottles of liquor lying there in the room. I was looking out for the loo, and the kid passing by was generous enough to tell me that no one in this b

uilding has a dedicated loo; there is a common loo. The room also had a few cob-webs and what not. Essentially, this was just a room with a portion of it being used for sleeping and the other half being used for kitchen.

I went to the loo, somehow jammed the door {the door had holes and also made creaking noise every time it opened or closed}. I took a leak, splashed some water and came out. It was now time to clean up the room and make it worth living.

I took a broom and mopped the entire room, picked up the cartons, and chucked them outside. Filled a bucket of water, mopped the entire room clean including the bed and the windows. The room now didn't have much dirt and looked pretty livable for a bachelor. I only had to unpack.

I unpacked my rug sack and dumped my clothes in an almirah given by the land lord and kept my toiletries in the kitchen right above the wash-basin. I then unpacked all of my stuff and kept it neatly in places that I thought they should go to. I checked the power connection, and it seemed to be working just fine. I took the mixer grinder out of the separate carton and kept it in the kitchen. {Knowing my love f

or fresh fruit juices, this was my Mom's gift to me}. I now decided to sleep for sometime.

Next morning: I get up, take my towel, wear my slippers, and go to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. I also had to pee and crap, but then I had to wait, as it was a common loo for the people living there. After around 10 mins, I got a chance to enter. I went in, took a leak, crapped and then brushed my teeth. I washed my face and then came out.

I came back to my room, saw the time. It was 7.15 am. I had an interview at the office of a leading movie production studio at 9.30 am. I obviously had no time to have bath or else I'd have missed the interview. Anyways, I just wrapped my towel around my waist, went to the kitchen, took a few mausambis and started peeling them. {my favorite and usual breakfast is a glass of mausambi juice and bread butter}. I peeled the mausambis, put them in the mixer, ground them, threw the pulp out and filtered the juice. Poured the juice in the glass and then buttered a couple of slices. After finishing my breakfast, I then opened my almirah, picked up a trouser and a shirt. Took my files, my CD that contained my short films and documentaries that I had made and also carried a few short stories and left my room to head to the bus stop to catch my bus.

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{Visual Atmosphere} The imagery is now hand held. The image is quick cut between the face of the protagonist and the crematorium

On the way between the bus stop and my room, is a crematorium. As I walked on that road, I looked at the crematorium. There was a family and a crowd gathered around. This was a cremation underway. A family had lost a person and this person might have slogged his/her ass off trying to make ends meet in this city. Now after the departure of this person, how would this family manage? But then, is it

really so difficult for things to stop, I kept thinking this and got to the bus stop.

The bus reached at 8 am and I got into the bus. The bus was crowded and people were jostling for a square inch of space. I also couldn't manage a seat. I decided to go the top deck of the double decker bus and stand there. I went upto the top deck, the bus conductor rang the bell, and the bus started. The conductor came to our deck and I got the ticket till my destination. The bus was now speeding across and I just stayed there. As the bus kept speeding, I kept watching out the window.

The bus now reached my destination. I got down and started walking towards the office. {The office was just walking distance from the bus stop}.

I walked into the office, reached the reception.

Hi, Good morning! I have an appointment here. I have come from Nagpur.

{The receptionist} Yeah, just let me check! Perfect! Your appointment is at 9.30, right? You'll have to wait. I hope that won't be a problem.

Oh certainly not! I can wait. Thank you so much. Can I just have a glass of water till then? Thank you!

{The receptionist} Sure.

I am asked to go into the meeting room at around 10 am, thanks to the delay in the interview panel's arrival.

The producer and the director of the movie interviewed me, asked me a few questions regarding my passion in film making and stuff. They also checked out my CDs and also checked out my short stories. During the entire interview conversation, I could get a fe

el that I would crack this deal. Fortunately, the result was to my joy even though not to my surprise.

{The panel} You can report on the sets from tomorrow morning. You'll be working on this movie as an assistant director. Congratulations and wish you all the best!

I was supremely delighted! Finally, I have made the cut and I've now at least got a foot in the door. I stepped out of the office and just wanted to take the rest of the day easy. I decided to just hang loose and stray around in the city doing what I love doing most – observe!

I walked and got in to a bus again. Without much planning and knowledge, I wanted to take the exploration head on. After getting into the bus, I got the ticket till the next stop. This time round, I got a seat as well. I sat by the window and looked out the window. The sights and sounds of the city seemed just so infectious.

The sights of newspaper vendors, the gola wallahs, the sounds of other busses whizzing past, tingling of bottles added a new dimension to my experience altogether. I got down at the next stop, went upto a local chaat vendor. Bhaiyya, pani puri khilana! I had a plate of pani puri and then walked up and down the street.

Countless number of people kept walking towards me from the opposite direction, as did people from behind me. I was just a part of the crowd. But this felt good.

By the time I reached home, it was 8 pm. The city was fully illuminated and looked so seductive.

My eyes were filled with the sights and sounds of an alluring city. I reached home and crashed.

Next day, I got up. This day was a new beginning for me.

I went to the loo, waited for sometime, loosened up, brushed and had a bath. Came back to my room, peeled some mausambis, plugged my mixer grinder, ground those mausambis, filtered the juice, chucked the pulp, and buttered a couple of my slices. I finished my breakfast, changed my clothes, rushed out to catch my bus. On my way I saw a family waiting to get the ashes a cremated.

I caught my bus. The shoot was supposed to take place on location near the Fort area. On my way, I passed through the CST. The sights of the crematorium were still playing in my mind. I somehow managed to digress my mind off that imagery when I looked out the window and saw people entering and stepping out the CST station in hordes. It almost seemed suffocating. The crowd was unprecedented. Being away from such a crowd and watching them from a distance, almost disconnected from them just numbed me.

I reached the Fort area and got down. I walked towards the location. The unit was there and the preparations for a shoot were underway. I walked upto them and joined them. After an initial round of introduction, we almost set everything up and waited for the director to arrive so that we can start the shoot for the day.

I had the call sheet and the schedule for the sequences to be shot today. The director arrived and we started shooting. After 7 hours of rigorous shooting and reshoots, the day drew to a close.

I went back home and slept again.

{Visual Atmosphere} The imagery is now intercutting between the face of the protagonist and that of sweeping shots of the city scape.

Next morning: I got up, finished my morning rituals and came back to my room. I started peeling the mausambis and I put the fruits in the grinder. While doing that, the images I had seen the previous day played over my mind yet again. I somehow became restless and just left the fruits lying in the grinder and came to the verandah. Standing there in the verandah, as I overlooked at the city landscape and the usual imagery of people, scores of people, hordes of people just filled my eyes.

I started to develop a feeling of claustrophobia.

Though, on one hand, my career started looking up – professionally I was doing well as an assistant director and was also winning the confidence of the entire unit and the director, I was just disintegrating mentally.

Travelling through the city each day and hanging loose each night – seeing only people around, people flocking the city and then slowly but certainly people leaving the city, seeing people visiting temples and other religious places with dreams, seeing people break

down at failure filled me with paradoxes.

Here there were new born babies taken to temples for the christening ceremony, and then on the other hand there were families carrying the funeral pyre of the departed ones.

The highly paradoxical and disturbing observations led me into writing my first official screenplay.

My first film as an assistant director got over and released to a lukewarm response at the ticket windows. Looking at my performance and rapport with the unit, the production house decided to stick to me as an assistant for their next venture as well. I also bagged quite a few other interesting offers as an assistant.

Though, I was certainly on the path of progression and prosperity, things around me was hardly changing.

I could still feel the city's gravitational pull. The rate at which the city was flooded by various immigrants and dreamers each day was almost like a whirlpool sucking everybody in. Each day, and each passing moment at least thousands of people came in with a dream and also at least hundreds of people were also leaving the city each day – some disgruntled, some dead.

The life cycle of people had a definite graph and a certain nihilistic end which was in direct contrast to that of the city – the city was always getting what it needed the most – the juice! Few years down the line, the entire city scape seemed like a monster to me that was just sucking the life out of people, crushed their dreams, crushed their aspirations, and also crushed their lives and spit the pulp out

in the form of a dead body or a discarded human being.

Years of gruesomely degenerating observations on a psychological front contrasted with sufficient amount of credibility and success on a personal front made me paranoid of the city life.

Finally, after 7 years of meandering, observing and working – I managed to complete my first screenplay.

A new morning: I got up, went to the loo, waited, finished my morning rituals, came back to my room, buttered my slices, finished my bread butter and got ready to go to the production office. This time I had the file of my first and probably my last screenplay. I wanted to narrate this to my producers in the hope of getting this made into a movie.

The screenplay is titled "City Lights"