Dear Yet Untitler,
I am writing ‘early’ in the week this time. As I write this line, I’m still flummoxed about what this newsletter’s going to be about, but - sigh - that’s the whole amazement of it. At this point, I’m literally wondering why I put myself through this very real feeling of uncertainty each week. Does the world not dole out enough uncertainty to me anyhow, that I’m back here asking for more?
But here I am and here you are. Something unites us. Uncertainty is part of it. So is courage, loyalty and promise. I’ll add Gratitude with a capital G to this list as well.
Thanks again for being here!
Last week, my manager Datta and I had a serious chat. Datta is a close friend, and in our journey together we’ve had many serious chats. Once in a bit, we (and his lovely team at Tulsea) convene to decide whether it’s a time to put me ‘out there’ more or whether it’s a time to work quietly with what’s already there on my plate. We always find a healthy balance. Since I’ve been writing more than directing over the past few years, it’s easy for me to isolate myself. Working from a home inhabited by my very loving family - twin 8 year olds and my wife - thankfully keeps loneliness at bay, but it doesn’t necessarily take care of the isolation.
I was very moved by something I read in one of Craig Mod’s ‘Special Projects’ newsletters:
One thing I don't often talk about is how crushing the solitude of this work can be. I suppose in some ways it feels lazy / lame — like: Ugh, yeah, sure, it's lonely, we get it. But it really is. It can be difficult for outside folks to understand the crushing sense of isolation of working on, say, a book. But it's there. Ever present. And I feel like I spend a lot of time constructing systems and schedules to actively mitigate the wost of it. Because: Isolation is critical for the work, but if you don't know you're coming out the other end, it can be difficult — or even impossible — to go deep.
I’ve been thinking about this ever since I read it. My own scenario differs from Craig’s, who is a one-man-show in earnest (something I look at with a mix of awe and sometimes even jealousy) - my own processes involve constant and regular collaborators. But, at the end of the day - in my filmmaking career - I am a single unit sought out for the my voice. To hear my voice , I need silence. To grow my voice, I need a mix of silence and noise.
This is something I have learned to appreciate from my Buddhist practice - you cannot practice Buddhism in isolation; in as much as being able to live disconnected from life. Something I always go back to are Buddhism’s Three Treasures, which are: 1) The Buddha, 2) The Law and 3) The Sangha. The sangha or the congregation around the Buddha who perpetuate the law are as central to Buddhism as the Buddha and the Law itself. Hence, if life doesn’t exist in isolation, I guess neither does our work - at least not all the time.
This perspective finds itself at play when I WhatsApp Datta for one of these serious chats. What ends up happening is a flurry of meetings that feel crazy on top of an already heavy workload. However - so many of the people I end up connecting or reconnecting with in this impulse to fight isolation are interesting, wonderful, wise, accomplished or all of the above - that they become the promise that lies at the other end of isolation.
All this made me think nice positive thoughts. Like - ‘Life is long. Collect good people.’ It also made me dig out this old bookmark I’d bought in Sri Lanka in 2004:
Of course - not everyone I’ll meet will arouse the same feelings, but through a positive lens - at the very least they could reinforce my own convictions.
PS: am I sounding like this unicorn in today’s newsletter?
An aside on Unicorns:
I picked up one of Ananya and Aahana’s graphic novels I found lying around and really enjoyed it. The humour is irreverent and whip sharp! It was a proud dad moment to know that they enjoy these.
Phoebe and her Unicorn is a great comic to read or gift. I was pleasantly surprised. You can read some here.
A word from Austin Kleon
Kleon’s post on How to Hide and Still be Found moved me. It pretty much encapsulates the crux of this post - about how you can share yourself (‘of yourself?) while you work - something Kleon has dealt with extensively in his book.
This article looks at the question of ‘being out there’ and its complications for an artist (perhaps ‘creator’ is a better word) from so many angles, that I highly recommend you read it. In short, I really vibe with his point that today, we have many ways to do both - to hide and be ‘out there’ - effectively, in a way that makes us grow. The internet has a lot to do with this, and Kleon’s ideas are definitely behind the impulse to write this newsletter.
PS. Kleon quotes Ritesh Batra right at the start of the article. Ritesh is the director of the wonderful film The Lunchbox, and by quoting him, Kelon officially establishes me as one remove from him, which makes me very kicked indeed! Ritesh and I attended a writers’ workshop in Venice together in 2011.
A List
Here’s a list of ways in which I manage to ‘hide’ (read “steal solitude”) in my daily life, even when I feel flung headlong into the throng of humanity (!) -
Uber rides - Driving in Mumbai sucks. If I’m not going to drive, then at least I can turn my commute into time in a solitude pod. Uber drivers in Mumbai aren’t very chatty, especially if you have a beard, so this helps.
Solo Flights - not so many now, but airplane mode is called airplane mode for a reason!
Walking (a new discovery, thanks to my other agent and friend Chaitanya Hegde. I’m getting them steps in, Chai!).
Running - We’re in some serious solitude territory for me, here. There’s something mystic about how I perceive time during a run. Maybe I’ll expand on this someday, but I feel I get 2 hours worth of everything that’s valuable about solitude from a 20 minute run. I also have a recurring vision of a phantom runner jogging beside me that I written about in Yet Untitled 016. Interesting things happen when I run!
Prayer - Chanting (part of my Buddhist practice) at its best is solitude with a sense of connection to everything. Perhaps, I’ll expand on this too, one day.
Early mornings - You may think I’m a “morning person”, but I feel a wave of “why me?” thoughts when wake up early. It’s the draw of the quiet that pulls me out of bed - of what I’ll do with the time before the emails and phone calls start. Now you know!
Noise Cancelling Headphones - more than cutting out noise, just having them on scares people off! The larger and more lumbering the better! I’ve mastered the subtle gesture of vaguely signalling that I’m on a call (it uncannily resembles the Hawaiian Shaka or “Hang Loose” sign) while I have them on. Usually works!
Routine - I apply the Marie Kondo method (I shit you not) to organise my clothes. It entails laying out, rolling up, organising and then stowing - a process that gives me a good 7-8 minutes of peaceful not-thinking on most days. We take what we get.
Podcasts - Especially the BBC’s Front Row culture podcast, is a great, positive connector to the world of the arts while I’m walking or on a flight. I find that podcasts draw me into a far more reflective place than, say, watching a show or a film (unless these are really good). The kind of quiet listening a podcast entails is both it’s own space and participatory in a way that’s private and personal.
No Instagram on my phone - I stopped keeping the app on my phone about six months ago, and it feels like I’ve added an extra day to my week. I still see my feed but via web-browser on my computer. On Thursdays, I download the app, share a story about my next Substack post, and then readily delete the app again! This may change over time as per need (so much of what we do is becoming more and more enmeshed in social media, but what I like is that I’m in control of the medium rather than having the medium be in control of me.
There! Not flummoxed anymore! If you don’t know what I’m taking about please go to the second sentence of this newsletter 😄.
I’ll stop here!
Before we go our ways: Do you play hide and seek with the world in any way?
Tell me! I want to know!
I love this question, how do I hide and still be found? I think mostly I’m better at hiding. But in my paying job it’s a real challenge all the time to actually get work done in between all the conversation and meetings. I need to ponder this some more.
I so appreciated this glimpse into your process of living/working, because I see so much of myself in it. Our lives have a LOT of overlap, but you’ve got a few years of maturity and experience on me that is valuable for me to bear witness to. As always, thanks for the glimpse!