I am a possessive person. Not just about people, not just about things, not just about ideas…if I like something created by someone else, I become possessive about what is another’s in effect. It does, through a process of osmosis, become mine. As audience, reader, viewer, I have control over not merely its portrayal but also its gestation. How was it created? Why? Did the colours have a special meaning, were the characters fleshed out with some specific purpose?
It is like going into flashback mode as quasi creator. Obviously, it does not happen if I am indifferent to it. If I dislike the piece of work, then I want to extricate myself from it as I would from a knotty situation. With a history of not being good at it, the knots form their own webs and spider-like I get a corner-side view of the rather disastrous happening. But, if I like what I am seeing or reading, then my input is huge. I almost always become a character, sometime several characters and the tension is palpable as I create a whole out of these to encompass within me rather than it being the other way round.
So, not only am I what Dali paints or Godard films or Mailer writes, I am them for the duration when their work stays with me, and that could be often, maybe ever since I came across them and forever thence. Is the creator, then, incidental to the creation? In many ways the creator is my creation; my imagination sees the creator as creating the thing I am witness to. S/he have become my characters.
In a strange sort of way, therefore, none of us remain real creators. It is simulation and assimilation.
The reason I got started on this is because I read somewhere that Chashme Buddoor is being remade. The delightful ‘comedy’ – it is more than that – by Sai Paranjpye is to be adapted by David Dhawan. Now this man has given us some slapstick stuff, and I do not intend to be preachy about his cinema. But Sai Paranjpye manages to bring alive the simplest of situations with the lightest of touches. Her cinema is of the ethos.
Anyone who has watched her films will not go away without the characters. I am possessive about this movie and cannot imagine anyone remaking it, not even Sai. It is frozen in memory. Almost every scene. It is not message cinema; it does not have grandiose sets or smart editing. It is just a meandering look at life’s idiosyncrasies that affect any person.
This particular song has a special place, besides being a beautiful number. I do exactly what Deepti Naval does when she walks to the bus stop, completely immersed in her music, unaware of anything outside. Sometimes, worlds exist within us: