Writing for the Self

A need to write bursting through my fingers, the mind’s alight. Om namah shivay!

Want to write live for a change. Not think about writing. Just write.

But not on twitter, no. A lot of politics of thought on twitter; where it once just served  the self, now it serves the ego, feeds insecurities, more tying than setting free. I mourn* the loss, but only a little.

Things are always in a flux, systems change continuously and blend into different meanings with time. That is a good thing. However, point being, twitter has not remained as gonzo as it should be. I used to love writing for myself there, free of image shackles, but now that in itself has become a constraint. Self judgement is a severe critic. I had always loved twitter because it was always beta state writing, a burbling over of thought. Smothering that basic USP (for me, earlier) with a completely different one, of a social network structure imposition (which has always existed, say like on a million other internet forums, on reddit (!!) but twitter is different, has become different, has carved out faces and emotional attachments, and a social structure of it’s own) has left a bad taste in my mouth.

You know, like I want to be telling people that Imtiaz Ali has put in his all in Rockstar, it’s one of our premier bright talents’ acceptance of the terms given to him, a challenge of “Why can’t there be intelligent commercial films?”. I want to say it out loud as I would want to tell to a friend I am talking to.

Brother, watch out for that movie.

And he would, if he took my recommendations seriously. So a build up of an image, a branding so to say happens. A natural process, aided by motivation (insert specific social need). You kill the primary reason however, if you started expecting something from the process. The fine line between word-0f-mouth and advertising. Between being a knight and a sell-sword.

On twitter however, it has reached disgusting levels, a grotesquerie of projected thoughts and expectations. People tweet about missing a joke (to catch up on the Hey I didn’t tweet about the Metallica concert yet) on the cancelled Metallica concert yesterday (Metallican’t was highly prized and oft repeated). I don’t know what is wrong with that.. just that it feels rotten to me.

Kuch apne liye bhi likhte ho?” as the Naseeruddin Shah character asks his bastard son in ZNMD.

It’s funny how I was reading an interview of his somewhere (today’s HT City, here it is!) where Naseer was generally being very bitchy about life, acting, everything as he is wont to be, a grumbly but loveable grandfather type. Sounded very bitter about his own achievements in life, saying he has not featured in any memorable movies in his career. Even played down Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron (saying yes I am very proud of the film, but it is not a masterpiece, people place it on a pedestal because they don’t have anything else to compare it with), cautioned the public against watching his next film, The Blueberry Hunt (said if you have seen the trailer, don’t bother watching the film. That he regrets doing the film, and the film-maker is a liar and a cheat)

I had been quite looking forward to watching the film, but then well, that’s that, I guess. Point being Naseer, being what he is at his age, is quite scared and shocked that the youngsters do not know film giants, no matter how fine actors they were, and that he has never done a memorable film in his life, and he has no expectation of doing one, he has stopped looking for a role that he could be excited about. He is scared that youngsters will forget him, he does not like the fact, but he does not hope for any better now.

Mighty dour. And sad.

He was happy about that small role in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara however, saying his five minutes were the best part of the film. I may not agree with him right now, but I love the film more & more everytime I see it, and my favorite parts have changed each of the four times I have seen the film, from the highway kiss delivery on the enfield to the immediate Hrithik mood change song (that is fucking magically done), to the tum Mantally sick ho chuke ho, my bwoy, to the silence that follows after the dive, or the adrenaline rush after the jump, or even this preachy last bit.

Dil akhir tu kyun rota hai

So I’m not saying if Naseer rolling a joint and talking to his bastard son and starting by chiding him about following his heart, like he did by dumping his mother after she was pregnant, and ran off to paint might not turn out to be my favorite part of the movie at a future date, who knows. At least he’s happy that lots of people have told him they liked him in the film.

I respect Naseeruddin Shah quite a lot (don’t quite know why, not a this movie that is why the respect, none of that, just a respect borne out of a well, respect out of what you’ve done for your life, ser!), he is one of my favorite actors. His view of his life saddened me, his fear of being forgotten hurts since it confirms my own pessimisms about life and expectations.

Hah, I think what I was saying somewhere between all of that was that twitter has not remained writing for self. It has not stayed free of expectation, of an attachment with other baser motivations, other secondary expectations than the joy of writing.

And as with all expectation, as Buddhism says, (from the wikipedia entry for Four Noble Truths)

  1. The Nature of Suffering (or unhappiness/unsatisfactoriness or Dukkha):
    “This is the noble truth of suffering: birth is suffering, aging is suffering, illness is suffering, death is suffering; sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief and despair are suffering; union with what is displeasing is suffering; separation from what is pleasing is suffering; not to get what one wants is suffering; in brief, the five aggregates subject to clinging are suffering.”[5][6]
  2. Suffering’s Origin (Dukkha Samudaya):
    “This is the noble truth of the origin of suffering: it is this craving which leads to renewed existence, accompanied by delight and lust, seeking delight here and there, that is, craving for sensual pleasures, craving for existence, craving for extermination.”[5][6]
  3. Suffering’s Cessation (Dukkha Nirodha):
    “This is the noble truth of the cessation of suffering: it is the remainderless fading away and cessation of that same craving, the giving up and relinquishing of it, freedom from it, nonreliance on it.”[5][6]
  4. The Path Leading to the Cessation of Suffering: (Dukkha Nirodha Gamini Patipada Magga)
    “This is the noble truth of the way leading to the cessation of suffering: it is the Noble Eightfold Path; that is, right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness and right concentration.”[7][8]

There should be some amount of writing in the world, and everyone should have some that is one of those primary forces that shape the world (like that mentioned in The Fountainhead), that is written to serve no other purpose but that it should be written, to serve no other motive but itself. There must be some amount of writing in everyone’s lives, everyone’s hearts, everyone’s cameras, everyone’s fingers, everyone’s words, everyone’s voice that should be that pure. It is very very essential.

Without tera darr, tera pyaar, teri waah (the same family as Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt – FUD)

One needs to be careful

It is perhaps as primary a feeling, as personal, as shame faced or exhibitionistic, as unique a stamp as lust, unique to you and your perversions. It should be that pure, that lust should never be allowed to die. Otherwise, what remains of *you*?

Else maybe Buddhism will swallow us.

Priceless moments in ZNMD

*just a queer feeling that the word should be spelled mourne, an effect of reading too much GRRM??

One thought on “Writing for the Self

  1. Pingback: It didn’t quite come together « Gonzo – Using an unconventional, exaggerated and highly subjective style, often when the reporter is part of the story

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