Yet Untitled 070 - Want to be elsewhere

My trepidation made me curious, so I unpacked it

Dearest Yet Untitler,

You may remember my post from a few weeks ago. It was about a lovely feeling of certitude that whatever was happening, wherever I was - was right.

That was the story of my first shoot schedule for an OTT show I’m co-directing. Now, just before the second schedule - I feel just the opposite. I want to escape!

I wondered whether I should write about this. It made me feel uneasy and vulnerable. But, there was something compelling about the choice to be honest; and I could see something interesting shimmering on the other side of the exploration.

Not that my first shoot schedule was bad! It was one of ‘em life shaping experiences - where you perform way above imagined capacity and manage to come through in one piece. I know I gained things I’ll feed off for a long time - like I said in this instalment a few weeks ago:

Yet Untitled 067 - I am in a new place

But I’d be lying if I told you that I want it all over again. At least so soon.

Banal metaphor for prickly experiences, New Delhi, c. 2023

This shift has made me curious. What’s changed?

Perhaps…the novelty? Perhaps I experienced…a loss of innocence? I entered the first schedule as a newbie, grinning ear to ear - unscathed. Since then, I’ve gained a few scars.

First Schedule Day 1. Unscarred, unscathed, grinning Vasant, c. 2023

Clearly, entering fresh is lovely! You have no idea about what plagues are going to assail you a few steps down the way! It’s childhood all over again. It’s innocence. It’s that summer morning where you want to be nowhere else but on your bike, cycling over to visit a friend.

Days when that balloon was enough. Vasant, c. 1984

But now, my god, I’m a war veteran! I’ve got the sound of the big guns still ringing in my ear as I head to the front again. I’m longing for more peace. I’m longing for the saner version of life that I’m predominantly used to. I’m longing for predictable, boring routine again. I’m clawing for safety, for sound sleep.

Vasant in saner times. Goa, c. 2020

But let me say this…

…I want to be elsewhere, but I have no intention of turning back.

Wanting to run, to escape, feels like a legit, real emotion that I see in human lives around me. I think many of us would happily exit the planet in this era of wildfire and flooding apocalypse, but where would we go? I arrived at a similar conclusion in my unpacking of my trepidation. While I’m uneasy, there’s a clear sense that the direction I’m heading in is an important, painstakingly chosen one.

Nichiren Daishonin, the 13th century Japanese Buddhist priest and philosopher writes in Letter to Niike:

…the journey from Kamakura to Kyoto takes twelve days. If you travel for eleven but stop with only one day remaining, how can you admire the moon over the capital?

I vibe with what Nichiren’s saying. I’ve come so far. What sense in turning around now?

I took this photo on a location reconnaissance. It’s in a part of Mumbai I rarely frequent, and it took me into a house I would never otherwise enter. That burst of lilac in the middle was a treat. It felt like a one of the things that suggests that I’ll be seeing the moon over the capital eventually.

I do not want to miss this. I don’t want to miss the moon. I want to rip straight back into life and feel more. I want to have the chance to create again. I want to collide with the lives of 200 people and work hard to move with them in harmony.

So, what to do but run towards rather than run from, carrying all that trepidation with me if necessary (though I’d be happier without it). Perhaps it’s fuel that’ll turn into something else. Perhaps it’s potential energy - those butterflies in the stomach need it to beat their wings. Perhaps it’s coal that’s firing my steps towards the front despite the load of the trepidation.

I am exactly where I want to be while wanting to be elsewhere. Does that make sense?

Lots of love to you all.

V