Yet Untitled 183 - Knowing and Not Knowing
And the chaos that lies in between
Dearest Yet Untitler
I’m reading the Mahabharata - a very unique version by M.T. Vasudevan Nair - told from the perspective of the second Pandava: Bhima.
I’ve not been able to put this book down! M.T. has managed to tell the story of demigods while keeping them as human as myself - talk about the superhuman without making me suspend my belief.
It feels like I’m truly understanding the subtleties of this monumental epic - with its machinations of war, class and betrayal - for the very first time, even though I’ve been engaging with the story since I was seven years old, when it was serialised for Doordarshan.
What’s going on? Am I finally ‘mature’? At 46, have I finally come of age?
But wait!
This has happened before! In my 20s, I directed a play based on the Mahabharata at Cambridge. It was written by the late Kiran Nagarkar - a play called ‘Bedtime Story’ which transcended its source material to become a commentary on contemporary geo-politics - with Krishna urging Arjuna to “push the nuclear button” et al.
The play was talked about. I was complimented for my treatment of the material as a director. We went on to take the play to the Edinburgh fringe.
By the end of this experience, I remember feeling that I had ‘got’ the Mahabharata. Perhaps in the same way how I felt - at the time - that I had ‘got’ the Romantics, the Metaphysical poets, maybe even Shakespeare! 🙄
I was 23.
I’m about to turn 46 now and I’m remembering how invincible 23 felt, how sure I was about the things that I (thought I) knew.
Interestingly, right after that 23rd year followed a spell when I felt like I knew nothing! I came back to India after finishing with Cambridge and embarked on becoming a filmmaker with no real plan. None of my big books came to my aid, neither did any of my authors.
All those hours in libraries - I wondered what they stood for 🧐 - especially when I was asked to stand in the hot Delhi sun doing crowd-control on a film shoot about a kilometre away from where the camera was filming the stars.
Taking a step back - I don’t think my education failed me in the end! But I don’t think that’s what this instalment is about.
A few decades ago, I had a revelation about the Asterix and Tintin comics I used to read (and have read to me) as a child.
I had always suspected that there was more to them when my mum read them aloud to me. I used to hear her chuckle at jokes that I didn’t get; nod knowingly about some allusion to history that didn’t make sense to me.
Then, in my 20s, after reading a bit of history myself, developing a sense of humour beyond the slapstick thrill of my childhood and travelling the world a little, I remember feeling, at some point, that I finally ‘got’ my Asterix and Tintin.
But I was wrong…
As a parent, I got a chance to re-read the whole Asterix and Tintin collections again with my twins during the pandemic.
There were some nice surprises in store for me ☺️.
There were still jokes in there I had missed in my 20s, puns that had remained inaccessible to me all this time (the kids would notice me chuckling as I read to them and would demand an explanation - likely how I must have demanded one from my mum when she read them to me!).
Interestingly, the same thing happened with me and the Mahabharata during the pandemic. A friend told me about a fantastic children’s author I had not heard of before and recommended her retelling of the epic for younger readers.
Writing for kids did not stop Arshia Sattar from calling a spade a spade in her rendition. She called out traditionally recognised heroes for their unheroic behaviour. Till-then forever-dastardly villains were given deserved commendations for their fair deeds. It was sheer pleasure, ploughing through this well known epic with her iconoclasm clearing a way beyond its well-trodden paths.
During the dark times of the pandemic, it was delight to learn that life still had so much to reveal to me.
I’ve been on a bit of a roller coaster recently…
…one that looped the loop between knowing and not knowing.
A few months ago - when I was putting together a pilot episode for a drama series I really believe in (I’ve engaged with the material for years now), I thought I knew everything. That’s how it felt when I sent the pilot out to the OTTs to consider for a commission. I felt like I had finally ‘got’ it - this whole thing about putting together something that’ll get made.
Then when the rejections started coming in, I felt like I knew nothing again.
This time around feeling like I knew nothing hit me hard, and I had to - in plain sight -retreat into a deep unseen place to fight through it. These words that you are reading now are part of my fight - the sparks that flew and singed the cave’s walls as I clashed with the swirling demons that circled between knowing and not knowing.
I was inside that cave for a couple of days. The hurricane withdrew. When it grew cold, I lit a fire. Once the fire was lit, I danced around it. As I danced, I thought less and less about the knowing as desirable or undesirable, and less about not knowing as hell.
When I emerged from the cave, I marvelled at how little I know.
It’s fascinating.
There’s a lot that I saw in a new light. I chanced upon a micro-drama online, one that is being spoken about a lot. I watched it, and found it fascinating.
I never thought that I could find a micro drama interesting! But there it was, in a form that I could not take my eyes off.
I never suspected that my dreams could adapt to these changing times.
I never knew that despite the chaos of the age, I could keep going.
It’s amazing how little I know.
With you as my witness, dearest Yet Untitler, I promise to remember and work with this knowledge better than I have till now.
Thanks, always, for listening!
Lots of love,
V
PS. It’s always amazing to hear from you.