Friday, February 26, 2010

Mitalees story end reworked

The Boy without a face


Once upon a time far, far in the woods lived a lonely boy. He had no friends, and no family. Every night an angel would come and give him a new toy in exchange that he may never leave the woods. Oh so lovingly would she sing the child to sleep.

One fine day, when the sky was blue and the birds merry, the boy wandered where he shouldn’t wander. He thought what he shouldn’t have been thinking. He raised his weary brow and looked up at the wall he was now reached. Wailing in vain he grabbed his face and began to weep.

“Come now, you must not cry. Your future is with me. The world is a terror. Come with me. I will protect you.” The voice was that of the angel who came from the skies. She led the sad child back toward the trees.

That night the boy awoke after the angel had left. He was full of ideas and5v soon he would try them out. He took a shovel and a few berries and went on his way. As quietly as he could he walked on dry leaves. Through the murky swamps and past the willows, that cast shadows of evil demons coming to grab who ever woke them from their shallow slumber.

The child was very frightened and shivered with fear and guilt for never before had he deceived the Angel who loved him. He walked on with every ounce of courage he had in his small frail body. Lady fortune had abandoned the poor boy this night for he had fallen into the pool of floating dreams. At the bottom of the pool waiting for him was Mr. Puffing Blow Fish of destiny.

The little boy swam across to near the fish and asked

Fish oh fish
Nether I have been,
To see the world beyond,
Of this I am keen.

Tired and lonely
I am scared and tiny
Please help me.

The fish gave him a grain of rice and said, “This grain will give you all the food you need for your journey ahead.” The child was confused but took the grain anyway. As he swam away he thought about what was to come. Struggling out of the pond he began to move ahead on all fours with haste. But that was not to be, because he was very tired.

The grain of rice fell out of his hands and onto the ground of creepers and thorns. And the child bled from the hands and face, as he frantically looked for it. Finally the wretched grain was found and all felt well again.
On his way almost reaching the wall the boy fell and decided to lay there for an hour or two. When time came to move on he was too tired to dig. His little hands could barely lift the shovel. But he picked it up and hit the wall thrice before falling to the ground.

“Who goes there?” enquired three voices in unison. “It is I. Tim. Please let me pass.” The walls shudder and slowly, the ground shaking, move away to reveal a beautiful path ahead. And with the eager most first step, the boy moved onto the path full of purple roses. And as he walked ahead, he heard a beautiful voice calling his name. It wasn’t that of the angel, but of someone else, someone younger and very near.

Her name was Rose, and she was beautiful. “Tim! Look here! Look at me!” His face was burnt but through his eyes he told her, that he loved her for the last time.

The camp was attacked and nearby bunkers were blown to bits. Among the pieces of destruction was Rose and the man she was going to marry. She reached out still in one piece, to feel his heart, with a desperate hope. Instead of a heartbeat she found a photograph in Tim’s pocket of his mother, him and his tenth birthday gift, a goldfish and a letter apologizing for joining the army against her wishes, but with the bright side of meeting Rose.

She lay back down and decided to complete the things Tim had started. All three of them.

Divya story

I asked an old woman why she was sprinkling flour over the ant colony. She startled me by replying, “To you they are ants. But to me they are all people. They are awaiting their turn to be reborn a human.” I immediately understood what she meant. In the Hindu conception of the human lifecycle, between death and rebirth, a person passes through what is called chaurasi lakh yonis (eight million, four hundred thousand different births) before being born a human again. “As a human in this lifetime, this is the least I can do for my fellow beings” the old woman added. She had touched a chord, sensitive in every Indian heart. Deep down somewhere, it is perhaps this feeling that keeps alive in India the ancient tradition of feeding animals.

Although the lowly crow has no such exalted status, it is nevertheless a very special bird in India that is fed all over the country for a variety of different reasons. But chiefly, the crow is identified with the remembrance of ancestors or shraadha – a period of time that comes each year when people recall their departed relatives and offer them food by feeding this winged scavenger. Evocative of ancestors, the crows are routinely fed in the Hindu burning grounds where the dead are taken to their funeral pyres.

LOGLINE:

A little girl who sees shadow monsters goes to her grandfather for comfort till one day he passes away and turns into a crow.

STORY:

I

M was scared of the dark. This may not seem to be a surprising or noteworthy thing, but in fact it is. This is because he reason to be afraid was quite peculiar, unique and genuinely valid. It was the shadow monsters. They kept her up at night.

She spotted them quite unintentionally really. She had been staring mindlessly at a corner of the dining room during dinner (staring mindlessly into space was one of the earlier habits she had developed in the process of growing up and turning into an individual), when she saw something no one else in the room noticed. This was not because her eyes could see special things, but merely because the other members at the table were occupied by the television, and dinner.

[Noteworthy fact #1]

The television had been invented by the shadow monsters as a safety device. It has been studied to be effective at keeping human eyes glued to a place, preventing them from roaming unnecessarily to where the shadows were.

This particular shadow monster that was spotted that came was out to check if the safety device was working. It was, but it wasn’t foolproof. He didn’t know this because he didn’t notice that he was being noticed. He was watching the television.

‘Look, a shadow monster!’

‘Hmmm’, ‘Finish your vegetables’

II

There was however one person who believed her, her grandfather ‘Ajoba’. She would slip away to him when she felt disheartened, and also because she loved him very much.

[Noteworthy fact #2]

M was a happy child and was rarely gravely disheartened. She saw the world through a pair of rose tinted glasses, and even when things looked bleak, she kept her chin up.

Ajoba had a room to himself. It had blue walls and was oriented such that it got the morning sun. The most prominent thing in his room was his bed. This was partly due to its size, and partly because this was where one always found Ajoba sitting, reclining or sleeping. He stood his ground like a weathered lighthouse, sending out a strong beam of light that drew M to him like a moth to light.

Ajoba would tell M bedtime stories.

He also told her breakfast stories, stories for a rainy day with a thunder storm, hot summer afternoon power cut stories, stories that made her feel happy, stories that made her pensive and thoughtful, stories that kept her up at night, stories that she helped him finish, stories she passed on to others; he had a story for every occasion and some for no occasion at all, and M loved every one of them.

III

The reason Ajoba believed M when she said there was something fishy with the shadows was because there was something he too had noticed, and it was bothering him very much.

It had started a month earlier. He had woken up in the middle of the night feeling very thirsty and gone to the kitchen for a glass of water. He was not confined to the bed at this point. The moon was out, and as he stretched across the kitchen counter towards the water jug, he noticed wings. The shadow his arm formed was that of a bird’s wing. At first he thought it was the light, but it was reaffirmed the next day in all kinds of lights. The wings were unmistakably there. In his attempt to shake them off, he had slipped and fallen. This fall had required him to take complete bed rest. Soon afterwards, his shadow nose turned into a beak.

What bothered him was that he could not tell which bird his shadow was turning into. He was an avid birdwatcher and quite a famous one at that. He even had a book to his name on the birds of the Sahyadri range, Western Ghats. It was an intrinsic need for him to identify and classify birds wherever he found them.

(Birds at his window, far away birds in the sky as M flew her kite, bird feathers, feathers on hats, birds printed on clothes, birds he ate, he named them all) He had studied his shadow for a month now and it made him loose sleep. It made him haggard, led to formation of dark circles under his eyes and prompted his doctor to increase his medicine dosage. He was at the point of supplying his shadow with a new unique name (he was also a licensed taxonomist) when M walked in.

‘Can I sleep here tonight? The shadow monsters are out again.’

‘Yes, sure my sweet’

‘Did you know your shadow has turned into a crow?’

Ajoba’s face shows a mixture of emotions: intense shock and relief.

‘Goodnight’

They both fall asleep with smiles on their faces.

IV

13 Jan. It was the night before Makarsankranti. M had been practising her kite flying and gotten quite good at it. She wanted to win the kite flying competition in her colony. It had been a long and tiring day and her fingers were quite sore. She would have fallen into a deep slumber as soon as her head touched the pillow if it hadn’t been for one thing. The festivities had missed no one and the shadows were out flying kites tonight. Their kites soared high over the walls and onto the ceiling creating pretty patterns. It was all very nice but M was nervous for the next day.

‘Could you all just go away tonight, I need my rest’

It was as though someone pressed pause for a projected movie. And then, things started getting messy. Shadow monsters are quite gentle and peaceful creature when left alone, but there is something they intensely dislike, it is being ticked off by little girls. They can also be scary when they want to be, and at that moment they had become very big and scary. The air grew still and M sank back into her bed pulling her blanket around her as they increased in number and encircled her. All was not well.

‘Caw’

The noise broke the tension. It was a crow on the window ledge. He had a shiny beak and strong claws. He swooped in scattering the shadows with his own, very human one. Ajoba had come to her rescue, but somewhere in the corner of her mind M knew something was not right. She felt sadness engulfing her tired body as she drifted off to sleep.

V

‘He went in his sleep’, her mother whispered to the phone, and M’s world came crashing down.

This was a bit too much even for her rose tinted glasses and they went flying out of the window. M went to the blue room and curled herself up on the bed. The room filled up with emptiness. They came as big waves, pulverising her under its force. The waves got some fish along and the room filled up like an aquarium. She stayed like that till her head got stuck in a fish, which was when she decided it was time to go look for her rose tinted glasses.

M goes looking for them to the garden. A white sheet hanging out to dry reminds her of Ajoba’s bed which always had a white sheet on it. There is a crow sitting on the line. M is down on her knees crawling through the bushes looking for the glasses.

‘Caw’ ‘A little to your left’

She puts her hand out to her left and finds the glasses, puts them on and looks at the crow.

‘If you are my grandfather, hop two steps to the right’, she demonstrates how. The crow hops to the right and says, ‘You know you could have just asked.’

They both go fly her kite.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

pallak storyboard -the sneak out part





















story board thumnails -the sneak out


pallak -story

The story is about two roommates and their fights .The fights are about jealousy and anger for each other the main reason for them to fight is over a guy who stays on the ground floor and the idea is make each other shift out.
Tashee and roop are the two roommates fighting for each other love, this guy is called jai.
..................................................................................................................................................
There is a sneak out scene:
At midnight when roop is sleeping
Tashee sneaks out and goes to meet jai
Roop gets to know when tashee returns there is a crazy fight
They punch each other tashee takes the scissors and cuts off roop’s hair
Suddenly she realises what she has done and just goes sits quietly.
Roop goes to the bathroom to wash her face looks into the mirror and screams.
Roop is furious and is planning a major plan to take her case.
Doesn’t sleep the entire night, dark circles
Thrown crumbled pieces of paper all around.
Finally the plan is ready –evil grin with tired eyes.
She takes the bleach waiting for tashee to get up in the morning and see.
Tashee gets up and has bleached hair, and sees her mattress was dragged out of the house.
There is a crowd, she is embarrassed,
On her way back home she sees jai and he is freaked out by the way she looks.
She goes home, roop has an evil grin and yet trying to act calm.
................................................................................................................................................................
Invitation to a party:
Jai sends invites to both the girls.
The girls are excited
But are not showing emotions in front of each other.
Tashee goes to the bathroom and silent leaks out a grin.
An is jumping inside the loo.
Roop is taking the invitation and hugging it.
Tashee is making a list to do and look good.
She goes out; roop comes up with a plan.
While tashee is engaged with her beautification, face packs roop goes and empties the water tank.
So when she goes in for a bath roop locks her inside.
Goes down for the party and is happy tashee is not there to bother her.
The party is typical.
People dancing, rolls of tp all on the floor see fruit punch fallen all over the place.
Roop is on her way to find jai when tashee who is furious and jumps out of the window in the loo
Has her face pack is in her night suit gets hold of roop
There is a bitch fight happening
Roop is running and fighting and opens the door and both of them see
Jai kissing another guy ,background taashee and roop are seen shocked.

Aparupa: Story

While an artist paints her composition of a brewing relationship, the same blossoms in a couple, forming a parallel reality.

Free writing

She is an eccentric artist who lives in her own world. Painting is her life and that’s all she loves doing. She has few friends rather acquaintances. She works in her small studio with the smell of greasy paint, scattered and strewn all over the room. The sides of the walls are lined with her half done canvases. A big window on one side where the sunlight comes streaming in. She finds inspiration from the people and places around her; the winding streets, the by lanes, the quaint little shops dotting the pavement and the colourful people and their relationships. She often wakes up in the middle of her sleep and paints till the weee hours of the morning. She uses her bare hands to paint, mixing colours on the canvas itself. Hands move like they are being driven by an external imaginary source. And finally what turns out is a magnificent painting rich in colours and moving strokes. One night after a rather tiring day at work she was fast asleep on her single bed, dreaming her beautiful dreams. She woke up suddenly with an urge to paint. But she didn’t know quite what. Her hands wanted to feel the wetness of paint on the canvas. She took a fistful of vermillion paint and started smearing it on the canvas. Her hands and fingers moved rapidly across it confidently in smooth violent strokes. But she still didn’t know what she was making. Her both hands were moving fiercely across the blank canvas filling up empty spaces. She stopped finally. And she went back to see what it was that she’d painted. And after observing it for a while she felt that the painting represented a storm, a brewing storm of flaming red. It looked destructive and menacing and it seemed to be coming closer and closer. She moved onto the next canvas. Her both hands got to work. It was like a strange energy had taken over her. She just couldn’t stop her hands from spiralling through the canvas. She churned out image after image without even thinking what the picture might entail. She wasssssssssssssssssssssss. She wanted to let it all out. It was like she had a story to tell but wasn’t quite sure how to express it till it all came together in the end. It was like a jigsaw puzzle she was working on. Meanwhile in the same by lanes of her apartment was a couple who met quite by chance and went through the same emotional turmoil expressed in the artist’s compositions.

There life stories get entangled and manipulated in the artists minds composition which she expresses on her canvas with a milieu of colours.

Thoughts and ideas for the plot

Metaphorical way of portraying the paintings(relationship of couple)- nature- mood and colour of landscape or cityscape, abstract strokes, lines and patches of colour, suggestive of a form, depicting the mood, emotion and stage in relationship,
Peaks in a relationship- when a person proclaims his or her love to the other, whether the other person reciprocates or rejects the feeling, external forces that hinder love from blossoming
Quick fast paced story which happens in a span of a day. Passionate, poetic and lyrical imagery and writing.

• The story emphasizes on the relationship they share, their thoughts and feelings without much dialogue. It also describes the emotional and physical tension that builds between the two (but which fails to get materialised?). These get communicated through body gestures and facial expressions.

Body- Eye contact, Proximity, Touch, Lips, Smile, Feet/legs/toes, Hands/fingers

Response/ reaction- Wait, hesitate, motion, think, embarrass, wonder, confident, long, dramatic, calm, silent, observe, hurt (through gestures)

Setting- open space,two people- the man and woman

DRAFT 1

Blank canvas. Movement of hands across the canvas. Pale blue with small, abrupt streaks of orange and chrome. Two of them sitting in an open space, away from each other. They only communicate through eye contact initially. Every time he turns around, he’s looking up; she’s looking down, catching each other’s eye occasionally.

The streaks get denser as her fingers dipped in saffron contract and expand in crisp movements. The woman’s chin rest on her hands as she observes the man, showing an interest in him. The man responds to it by sitting with his arms folded, trying to subtly observe her.

Smears and swirls of pale yellow with the smooth warm movement of her palm in waves. The woman looks away from the man, is lost in thought, looking at her feet, as if looking within her for an answer. The man relaxes and crosses his legs.

Sparks of vermillion and burnt orange.The man- taps his shoes, not looking up. The woman’s feet close in. she looks up again at the man. Feeling the movement, the man looks up as well and catches the woman’s gaze. Embarrassed she shifts her gaze.

Purple hatches and gradients. The man takes a seat closer to her. She squirms in her seat. He smiles. She returns his smile shyly. He scratches his head, she fixes her dress.

Specks of grey and green.
He is about to start a conversation when a mother with a baby walks in and sits, hindering their view of each other. Disappointed, the woman folds her hands and presses it to her lips. The man stares at his palm.

Warm rays of golden yellow. The mother leaves in a while. The man and woman make eye contact. The woman decides to sit opposite him. He seems to be sizing her (eye movement up and down). Her eyes downcast with a half smile.

Swishes of red and vermillion. He goes and sits next to her, at the edge of the bench. Tension.

Deeper red and brown swirls. Her hands resting on her lap, contract. He crosses his hands, looks at her. Her toes squirm, she looks away.

Purple and navy blotches. He moves closer, places his left hand casually on the bench. The tension builds. She purses her lips, gives a shy sidelong glance.

Ochre and magenta washes. They both inch closer to each other. The tension reaches its zenith.

Burnt orange and red peaks. He reaches for her hand. She looks at him longingly.

The artist is painting in a mad frenzy. Splashes of red, vermillion and burnt orange. She abruptly stops. Steps back. Squints her eyes and stares at her brilliant composition. Frowns. Takes a fistful of white and smears it all over the canvas.

Robot sketches and some Photoshop WIPs-James




Manasi : Final story

"Sir, please sir, I am really hungry haven't eaten for days sir, please give me some money, ur life will flourish sir, please."
"Go away, i don't know where these people come from, go away, get out of my site, early in the morning i had to see such a face, get lost"
The little boy was upset, disheartened, hungry and tired and to top it all was the morning heat. He steps to the side and see's the cars passing one after another, in the cars he sees various kinds of people, families, mothers, fathers, people going to work and really wishes he would be there someday. Many a time he wonders who is he? who our his parents? where are they? why is he alone in this world? but his questions remain unanswered.

On day on a hot afternoon in a road in Delhi, with the scorching sun taking the life out of him,sweating, he tried his luck again, he picked a car with an elderly man inside and knocked at his window,
"please sir, please give me some money, its really hot sir and I am hungry i haven't eaten a meal in days sir please."
The man in the car was watching this little boy intently and smiled, "What is your name."
"Shiv sir"
"Shiv, why do u beg, you should go to school."
"Sir i don't have enough money to even feed myself where will i get the money to go to school, though one day i do want to go to school sir."
The red light turned green and people were aggressively honking at this car, among all the aggressiveness there was the humble man who spoke to shiv as if he was a human. Just as shiv was about to leave his man stuck out a 50 Rs note.
"May god be with you always."
Shiv was overcome with joy, his eyes full of tears he took the 50 Rs note.
NO ONE had ever given him so much respect, he was always treated like a nobody, shunned, pushed around, abused. He felt like a person after a long time. His face and eyes had lit up, his heart ecstatic, his mind rushing with things he could do with that money. He put it in his pocket.
"Thank you so much sir"

The Traffic signal's of Delhi has its own dynamics. It runs on a territory bases, it reminds me a lot of a jungle where you don't know who is the king of the jungle the lion thinks he is and the elephant thinks he is because of his size. Even here you didn't know who ruled the signal, people that were older and came here before or people that had more followers and a gang. There were these three boys not very old in their teens, around 17, 18 who thought they ruled the place. They are what you call insecure bullies.
These three boys from under the fly-over were watching this whole scene happen, the exchange of the 50 Rs note, it was the most anyone had earned in two weeks.
The three boys were furious with jealously. It became an ego issue with them.
"What does he think he is, how dare he not come and give us the money."
"He thinks we didn't see him?"
"He thinks he can mess around with us, i think he has forgotten who the boss is around here."
"I think it is time to remind him who we are and what we can do."
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHA."

That night, when the little boy was praying and thanking god for a good day, these three boys went up to him.
One of him smacked him on his head, and started laughing.
The other pushed him from the back and he fell flat on his chest.
Shiv did not know what he had done.
" why are .yo........."
before he could end his sentence, one of the boys slapped him.
Shiv started crying.
"You think you can out smart us."
"You think we wouldn't have come to know about the 50 Rs you earned today."
Shiv tried to get up.
this time he got smacked on his ear which started bleeding. There were other people from the area witnessing this incident but no one came to poor little shivs rescue.
His eyes helpless, his body numb with fear, his head spinning and his ear bleeding, the only thing he could think about was his 50Rs note that a kind man had given him with a lot of blessing and hope.
"Please leave me alone, i haven't done anything to you."
"Hahaha, give us the money and we will leave you."
"No please that money is mine, I am hungry."
Shiv was on his knees and begging for mercy.
He knew he would not have been spared.
Egos of the boys flared up on being refused. Without thinking they all pounced on the little boy, punched , kicked and beat him up,till he didn't have the energy to keep up the fight, they ultimately took the money away, leaving him in a corner as if he was abandoned garbage.
Shivs clothes were torn, he was bleeding profusely. His eyes were so helpless and full of tears yet no one came to help.
Shiv cried and cried and cried. He wished there was somebody to defend him. He felt alone and abandoned.
That night he went to sleep crying.

He started having a dream about his parents, all the questions that he never got answers for started appearing, he tried to picture what his parents might have looked like. Would the situation have been different if they were around? Would his mum come to save him and probably teach those boys a lesson? He many a time dreamt about his parents so he made a picture of them in his head it was almost like he was living a parallel life in his dreams.
Little did he know that this dream would change his entire life. While dreaming about his parents suddenly a boy appeared. It seemed so real, he was a boy as old as shiv with the same physic but blue in colour. He is a happy, carefree, naughty little boy, he looks like an impish pixie with mischievous eyes, is exuberant, and is a prankster. He loves to trouble people in their dreams. He is a dream hopper, and is a lot like marry poppins, he comes to those who need him and when his work is finished and the helpless can help themselves he goes to another little child who needs him. But the difference between him and marry poppins is that she is disciplined he is naughty and loves to harris people. He also becomes like a alter ego of the child. He was exactly what shiv wanted to be or wanted to live like.
On seeing him shiv got alarmed and he woke up in astonishment to find that he was just having a dream, the night was still and the sky clear and it was very very quiet.
Shiv went back to sleep and this blue boy appeared again, this time shiv was less intimidated to see him. He doesn't know how to react to this creature. He by now realizes that he isn't harmful.

He shows shivs some tricks, hops from one dream to another and troubles people, he pretended to be a snake and climbed on to someone's chest, resulting in the person yelling on top of his voice. He then stuck a twig up someone's nose. Shiv was laughing again :)
He then goes to where the bullies were sleeping.
sniggers
He starts of by putting a rat in one of theirs boxers.
Then he ties their feet with a big cloth as if he was in a maze tangled in all directions.
He then puts pepper into their noses
(need to develop this scene some more)
He teaches them a lesson, the three boys wake up alarmed as they don't know what is happening. They are scared and screaming.
The boys suddenly see shiv in front laughing at them so they decide to get up and beat him up but as soon as they try the all tumble and fall over each other.
They give up and apologize to shiv and promise never to trouble him again.
Shiv feels satisfied and feels that there is someone for him, this blue boy is his creation, he came from his dream, his alter ego, he wants to hold on to him forever. With him around he feels safer, stronger and more confident.
He peacefully goes back to sleep again having taught the big boys a lesson.
The next morning shiv gets up and finds the blue boy gone but he is wearing his T-shirt.
He realises he now has to stand up for himself.

maanvi:final story.

old man(parthojeet chatterjee),

student interviewer(sunando sen),
caretaker(shyamramanujan ramamurthy aka shontu),
selfish nephew(anirban chatterjee),
college sweetheart(devamita dasgupta).


-----rough script thing.------

TITLE PAGE.


PAGE 1 : establishment of environment.
shots of old man in his house, in his room. its not very well-lit. there is light coming in from the window facing his bed and is falling on him.

1-top angle shot: there is an old wooden bed on which he is sitting. next to it is a small table, on which rests one cup and saucer, some medicine strips, a folded newspaper and a red and a blue marker next to it.
2-closeup of hand: he is on drips, the hand has a broken bread slice in it.
3-closeup of feet sliding into slippers.
4-shot from behind the man, full view of him, he is silhouetted against his window, he is walking towards it, towards the pigeons who are waiting to be fed.(he is able to walk. slowly, with a bent back.)
5-shot from front, mid-shot of man breaking the bread into smaller crumbs, and on the wall behind him are two things, one a picture of his leader with the political party's flag on it, and the other, a calendar, on which there is a date marked in bright red.
6-mid-close shot of the wall, showing half of the framed picture and full view of the calendar. the calendar has various things written on it for each date, plans and events and such, in blue ink, but only till the date that is marked in red. after that the boxes are clean. there is not even a scratch of ink on them.
7-mid closeup of hand- he picks up the blue marker.
8-close-up shot of calendar- he writes 'election result' in blue,broken handwriting in the box just before the date marked in red.

PAGE 2 : the interviewer is established in this page.

1-mid-shot of a tall-ish cabinet: a young-ish hand is seen reaching out to a sound recorder in the left of frame. rest of the frame is filled with stuff, with a framed photograph of a boy and an old man, the same old man who has been established on PAGE 1.
2-mid-long shot of the boy against the cabinet: he is standing, putting the recorder in his bag, and a notebook too, holding both in the same hand.
3-top angle mid-close shot of the boy: he is picking up a stack of papers titled with the name of a man, and 'rough script/plan' written under it.
4-long shot of his cluttered room: he is seen exiting the room.
5-long shot of a street: boy is seen walking through the market.
6-long, low-angle shot from behind the boy(boy is seen till the waist): he is looking up at an old house, with two windows, and pigeons perched on both windows.
7-close-up of boy's face: he has a faint smile on his face. he seems happy, almost proud.
8-same long shot, eye-level this time: he is seen inside the house right next to the old house. he is closing the gate. this house is much smaller as compared to the old house.

PAGE 3 : The Caretaker.

1-low-angle mid-long shot from a coffee table: on the table rests the sound recorder. the record button is pressed and a red blip is happening. across the table sits a man in his late 40s. he is balding, has a tired look on his face, and he looks like he was born with it. he is wearing a pale full-sleeves shirt and trousers. he is about to say something.
2-over-the-shoulder shot. from the interviewer's shoulder: the man asks the interviewer,"should i talk loudly? or is this fine?" the interviewer responds,"nahi, ye theek hai"(this is fine).
3-close-up of man's face: he begins talking, "i was taking care of everything he ever needed, for about 22years. i still remember the first day.." (goes to flashback)
4-photograph-like frame: both of them standing next to each other, caretaker as a young man, with a placard in his hand, that has his name on it. the old man is standing next to him, smiling, but puzzled, his eyes on the placard. [Narration:"..he asked me my name, when i finished saying it, he didn even bother pronouncing it.."]
5-photograph-like frame: both of them standing next to each other, old man handing young man a new placard, with a nickname on it. old man has a wide, proud smile on face. young man looks confused. [Narration:"..instead, he thought for two seconds, and gave me a nickname. and now im known in the whole locality by that very nickname."]
6-still in flashback, mid-long shot of both men sitting at an old table, with a chessboard between them, we can make out that the old man is winning: [Narration:"once he got the reports, and eventually got a little weak,chess became our ritual. and knowing his deep passion for politics and deep love for the party he worked for, he always chose the black pawns, and named them after his party. i was given the white ones, and some weak party's label.."]
7-close up of old man's hand, knocking off the white king with his black pawn:[Narration:"..and as we all know, a man of his intelligence was impossible to defeat! so i would end up losing badly.."]
8-over-the-shoulder shot from behind caretaker: old man has won and has that victory smile on his face, like he knew all along that he would win.[Narration:"..i would hate it then, but now, the thought of that smile is what keeps me happy."] (flashback ends)
9-closeup of caretaker's face: he is wiping a tear off his right eye, "..i longed to see that smile in the last few weeks, but he had lost interest, because of people like that damned nephew of his, (name here).."

PAGE 4 : The Nephew.

1-low-angle mid-long shot from a coffee table: on the table rests the sound recorder. the record button is pressed and a red blip is happening.
2-mid-long shot, POV of Interviewer: the nephew is a man in his 40s, and he looks like a cunning fellow, someone who doesnt have many friends, only 'associates'. he is wearing casual clothes, and is sitting with one leg on the chair. he is also smoking. he asks,"recording?" Interviewer says Yes.
3-long shot, both are sitting facing each other, coffee table between them, the nephew starts with a question, almost like a derogatory remark,"So how come someone like YOU is doing something like THIS for someone like HIM?" Interviewer replies,"i studied under him when he was teaching in (whatever college). he had been a source of inspiration for many. i just decided to DO something about it. he was important to me."
4-mid-shot of nephew, again Interviewer's POV: he is holding the ashtray in his right hand, and while ashing his cig, he says,"funny.he never mentioned that part of his life, you know. when i used to go meet him.."(goes to flashback)
5-mid-close shot, old man is standing in the foreground on frame right, in the background on frame left is the nephew, lesser light on him: the old man is looking down.[Narration:"..he didn talk much. i think he had lost interest. plus he was never really social. politics was his family. i think he hated all the rest.."]
6-old man's POV shot, sort of low angle, nephew is standing in front of him with papers in his hands, showing them like playing cards, there are three, labelled Plan A, Plan B, Plan C. he has a 'am-i-smart-or-what-!' smile on his face.[Narration:"..i had these plans, i wanted to give him a better life, or whatever was left of it, you know. i wanted him to get out of that old dump of a house, build something new there, you know, but he just wouldnt.." Interviewer interrupts,"he never talked about family?"]
7-nephew's POV shot, mid-close shot, old man is seen in front of a cupboard, half-done closing it, inside there are framed photos of him with what looks like people from family, son etc.[Narration:"no, no! he almost never did. just everytime he asked about my kids, and why i didn get them along.."](flashback ends)
8-mid-close shot of nephew leaning forward, to stub his cig into the ashtray, which is now on the table. Interviewer says,"pretty odd. he never spoke about family to his own family members!" Nephew repies,"yeah. but i guess when you lose a wife and a child pretty early on in life, you tend to get alienated from the concept..oh but he did mention this woman he used to know..not his wife though.."

PAGE 5 : The Woman.

1-low-angle mid-long shot from a coffee table: on the table rests the sound recorder. the record button is pressed and a red blip is happening.
2-mid-long shot, POV of interviewer: the woman is sitting on a sofa chair, she looks really old, but seems happy. she is from a rich background too. she starts,"im quite surprised you found me, especially in context to him. im not surprised that to his family i almost dont exist.you see, we were college sweethearts.." she says, smiling. (goes to flashback)
3-Polaroid picture-type frame: photo of a guy and a girl dressed in 60s type clothing, girl is kissing the guy on the cheek and the guy has taken the photo in what looks like a college classroom,[Narration:"..we were the very typical 60s indian couple, the guy-giving-girl-a-rose-everyday-type.."]
4-Polaroid picture frame: shot of a college rally, him leading it: [Narration:"..in college he was the hero of politics, he was the motivator of all those petty revolts, which now seem so irrelevant, you know.."]
5-Polaroid picture frame: shot in a hospital, he is on the bed, on drips, but smiling. she seems to have taken the picture. [Narration:"..this once, he was in the hospital, after an accident, we were young and so full of life, and that time reality hit me i think.."]
6-same shot, but old man is on the bed in his house, they're both old and she is sitting next to each other, the same way, its just a flashback, not a polaroid one. [Narration:"..and now when i think of it, im not unhappy with it. we spoke a week back, and he was the same politics freak, you know, and so looking forward to the election results.."](flashback ends)
7-close-up of interviewer: he asks,"so it mustve been quite a mental blow, 5years of such intense feelings and then nothing?"
8-close-up of woman: she says,"i never really regretted not being the wife, you know. i guess he never understood that though..also because i was the one who decided to walk away from it at the end.."

PAGE 6 : Conclusion:

1-overhead shot of interviewer, writing something at his desk.
2-closeup of hand, showing whats written: 'such a heavy politics background to all of it. he was so into it. what happened about the election results?'
3- interviewer's over-the-shoulder shot: the caretaker is sitting in front of him. he says,"his party won the elections, as expected. he was happy. very happy. the guy he wanted as leader was now the leader."
4-shot of old man, over his shoulder: he is looking out of the window, leaning out, the street is full of his party flags, his one fist is raised with victory.
5-mid-close shot of him lying on his bed: he is smiling, looking up. its an overhead shot.[Narration:"..one thing that none of us wouldve expected was how it turned out after that.."]
6-camera zooms out: this time the man is smiling, but his eyes are close, he's asleep. [Narration:"..the old man slept peacefully. he knew that was it..but the next day, the new government stole his house from him
..as part of a new development scheme..the party leader, his leader ordered it.."]
7-close-up of interviewer's hand: he has pressed the stop button on the recorder.
8-long, low-angle shot from behind the boy(boy is seen till the waist): he is looking up at an old house, with two windows, and pigeons perched on both windows. this time we see a notice stuck to the gate.
9-close-up of the notice: it says," Government Property. Trespassers will be severely prosecuted."
PAGE 7:

(concluding artwork)
(credits and acknowledgements)

-end-

Thumbnails-Page 1:

final frames maybe? - Bharat





Wondering if the style/feel of the final frames could be something like this...

just trying out stuff. this is not finalised. or maybe it could stay like this but a bit cleaner?

Storyboard - Bharat













theses are the first four pages. working on the rest. will be uploaded by saturday.

Shilo- Rambling Storyline of Chapter One (yes...1/7 O_O)

They were young. And they were Lost.
Some stories about other worlds begin with 'Once upon a time', others with 'In the beginning'.
In this world the beginning is not known.
This World, sometimes forgotten and sometimes vaguely remembered by the Children and elders as 'Khoya': What was lost.
The elders in khoya tell tales of 'What-once-was'. A feeble whisper of the past. They spoke of a world not constructed and constrained. A world devoid of tall glass buildings. They spoke of other beings and half beings made of as fluid as water and as light as breath they called 'spirit'. They spoke of these spirits and life that existed beyond experiments in laboratories. They spoke of 'Colour': Strange hues and tones and pigments that spread like honey. They spoke of other life with four legs: creatures with a will of their own. Winged Creatures that would soar into the far reaches of space and dance with stars with painted wings and sing songs that told stories of other lands.
To the children of Khoya the words 'Of-their-own' seemed unimaginable. As did words like 'spirit', 'soul' and 'nature'.
To the children of Khoya this was myth. A jumble of fantastical mumbo-jumbo jumbled up in the elders' memories. And soon no one listened to those tales either.
There was no room for fantasy here. Only routine. And magic disrupted routine.
And what's the point of a story if it isn't even real? They said.

However, if one is to try and rediscover 'What-once-was'
If one is to attempt to pinpoint when Khoya was lost- it was possibly when the glass sphere was built around the earth.
Before, when the world was a spirit of itself, at first man lived in Harmony with other spirit (because he was intouch with his own).
He saw the network of light. He spoke the language of love, a language without words but only truth.
Everyday on earth was a celebration of this love. And man's voice (strong and sweet then) was part of this great cosmic orchestra.
They would sing in crystal voices about this love. they would spin round and round with the stars. Whirling in ecstacy. Everything was magical.
And I don't mean the mumbo-jumbo sort of magic. I mean Bliss.
one day men and women were distracted while singing. While looking up at the skies and his heart was connected to this great network when suddenly his eye caught something flying glimmering.
It was a firefly.
'Light that is worn by something apart from the stars' he thought...the idea of having light was interesting to him and he thought about it for days on end.
He wanted it. And then on, when he sang with the orchestra, it wasn't a celebration of love. It was a song of longing.
Having always lived by his need- this 'want' was new and exciting to him.
7 days and 7 nights later he saw Fire again. One day when all the world creatures were asleep, he snuck up behind the firefly and trapped it in a small glass box.
He labelled this box and it gave him great pleasure that he could see it whenever he wished and it would never ever go away (it had no choice).
Soon he collected more creatures like this. He no longer sang in praise with the rest but instead arranged his collection meticulously in rows.
When the other spirits approached him to ask him why he didn't sing and why he was trapping these creatures and plants he said
'Don't you see? I discovered them and so they are mine'
The spirits didn't understand this logic at all.
But the truth is- that before any pandora's box was opened...it was first sealed up.
and this incessant want to label and claim ownership over was called greed.

Man's greed led him to try and manipulate. Try and consume and control the spirit of the earth.
He was blind when he saw not the sadness in that he killed. He was deaf was he heard not the cries of the earth.
But above all, he was intoxicated.He was addicted to power. and it is this addiction, this intoxication and this blindness that gave birth to a dark powerful force with a life of its own
'The Nasha'
It started as a small puff of smoke that enveloped his heart and wrapped its long vines around it. This gave him indifference.
It then spread to his chest that swelled up as his lungs were taken over by the Nasha. This gave him pride.
Next it spread to his throat and wound its vines around his neck nearly choking him. This gave him cold silence.
Then to his eyes. dilated pupils. Nasha swirling inside like dark pools of sorrow. This gave him blindness.
and having wrapped itself around every nerve and entered every stream that ran through man's body:
finally it penetrated his mind. This brought him death.
And not death of the spirit (for the spirit lives forever) or death of Love (because love exists beyond that) but the death of his compassion.
Which is the worst end of all.
The spirits were chased out one by one. Poisonous gases were released into the world that punched holes into the layers of spirit and protection that enveloped the earth like a blanket.
Homes were destroyed. Forests burnt down. The sky began to fall, the earth began to quake. Spirit fought back. The sky would cry for days flooding the earth. His greed to control spirit brought terror. His greed to possess and consume land brought wars. And soon it wasn't even land anymore. Soon it was Oil, then Water. and last but most tragically- The Battles of Breath.
With holes in his sky, with a hole where a heart once existed, surrounded by chaos and cacophony- he had to make a choice-
Either he embraced the spirit and restored it to a magnificence of its own- let go of his control and need to consume and lived in Harmony.
Or
He built more walls and banished the spirit forever.
And Ofcourse, He chose to banish.
So he created a glass globe around the earth to block out the clouds that became animals in the sky. He shut out the stars that looked down upon the earth like eyes.
He created large concrete bottlestoppers that stopped rivers from flowing. He scooped out all the multitudes of fish and life in the ocean and replaced it with plastic that he'd consumed and spat out.
Remember poor Hansel and Gretel?
Who got lost in their woods and other kingdoms of love we could find no more: miniature labyrinths we no longer find our way back into.
The world faded,diminished and disintegrated into smaller and smaller histories until finally becoming the one we know.
Like a crystal prism that had been preserved for centuries to unleash the rainbow that shattered into tiny fragments .Cold, brittle and weak empires of manmade catastrophy eroded the soul like dirt off cliffs that drift in winds into beautiful tragedies of 'What-once-Was'.
Children were lined up in rows of gray and with glassy eyes of conformity gazing upon nothing. A vacant expression branded upon their faces with no decipherable features or beauty or ugliness. Their mind's trained not to think, not to question. This is the age of mediocrity and these voices of a forgotten generation of zombies. Jaded and incomplete but told to feel otherwise, these Children are laid to rest in an adult tone with the once beating heart of a child. 

This was Khoya. A mistake. A generation of alienation. And where our story begins.


So This is just a first draft of the first chapter. In terms of sequence of events it is more or less decided(unless people have some feedback or suggestions). The writing style keeps changing- which is something I need to take care of.Also I'm going to have to change the style of narration so it becomes a script or a conversation.
perhaps even a novel without any conversation or text at all?


Concept/Rough sketch of the Nasha.


Desperately trying to figure out how I can convert this into a script or a conversation.
Chapter 2 has much more dialogue and action in that sense.

Rough Thumbnails- Digbejoy Ghosh



DISHA: thumbnail

Sharvari-Final story.

Earlier this month, Skywinds126 was abandoned in an old hangar at a far end of the airport. Up in the sky, a flock of wild sparrows were migrating to the south. One of them, Charlie, was lagging behind due to slow pace. She was mocked by the other birds and was left behind. She noticed a plane flying above them at a speed that couldn’t be matched by any of them. This gave her an idea and she followed the gas clouds formed by the plane and landed at a nearby airport.

Skywind126 noticed planes taking off from the runway; some hovered around the airport searching for a signal. He let a sigh out, “I wish I could be there. I will be spending the rest of my life lying here instead of flying high around the world.” Charlie was flying past all the hangars and stationed airplanes when she overheard his cry. She peeped in the hangar and perched on a high post. The plane was day dreaming about his last flight, experiencing the height, speed and the crash all in his head. As the dream took a bad ending he opened his eyes suddenly to find himself alone in the hangar. He noticed a single feather slip from the top of his head and fall on the ground. Charlie flew over the plane and landed on top of the left wing.

Startled with the new weight on his wings, Skywinds126 shouts, “whose there?”

“Hi, I’m Charlie”, she leaned forward from the wing so he could see her.

“Go away.” Said Skywinds126 as he squirmed away from her.

“I was on my way to the south highlands on my migratory path. I overheard your cry so I came to see.”

Skywinds126 slumps his wings down and reconsiders his state. He let the unwelcomed visitor speak.

“So why don’t you get out of here and move on.”

“I can’t. I don’t have a destination to go to. I’ve never flown out of free will.”

“Why not, you are lying here without being of any use. It seems to me that you are on your own now.”

“It’s not that easy”. He felt uneasy with the bird’s presence on his wing.

She flew in front of him with all excitement, “why not, why don’t you come with me?”

“What”, Skywinds126 stops a chuckle. “I’m not flying with you. Its one of the reasons I’m stuck here in the first place.

Charlie rolled her eyes, “yeah well, I won’t fly with you, I will sit inside”.

With that she went outside and returned with some twigs in her mouth. She went under and started stuffing under the front wheel flap.

“This won’t work you know. It’s too dangerous.”

“Why not, it’s as good as you flying alone. I’ll give you the direction as I will see the land passing by below us.

“So what is this place like?” asked the plane.

{Parallel interpretations by both characters of the place}

“It has all the things you’d need for fueling up as you fly high amongst the clouds that lie between two mountains. Deep below the valley, there is a river flowing between wide banks. You can lie there with your wings spread wide and let the sun shine on it.”

Then there was silence, the wait took place for the secret departure.

The next day the sun rose and let the first ray hit on the windshield of the abandoned aircraft. Skywinds126 woke up and called out to Charlie. Charlie had a plan to let him out without being noticed.

“You start going to the runway while I try to distract the humans.” Saying that she flies out and lands in the middle of the many aircrafts getting ready to take off. Meanwhile Skywinds126 moves out of the hangar. This was his first attempt of setting his wheels outside the hangar since his disposal. His expressions narrated the rest of his feelings. Charlie fluttered her wings and stood midair in front of a plane. Suddenly there was an out roar, “THERE’S BIRD HOVERING ON THE GROUND, EMERGENCY”.

The plan was a success. She flew towards the runway and followed Skywinds126. He was ready to take off. As soon as she sat in the nest, there were jerks. With few more jerks the front wheel lifted off the runway. Charlie held on to the nest and the wheel post.

“Are you sure we are doing the right thing? There is no one to take control over my steering. “Worried Skywinds126.

“You are your own pilot now.”

After reaching a certain height the silhouette of the plane resembled a small bird flying in the sky. They flew over varied landscapes. At one point they also crossed the flock that abandoned Charlie. They looked on.

As the destination came closer, Charlie guided him towards the mountains and told him to follow the river. Meanwhile Skywinds126 searched for the landscape that he imagined. He noticed other aerial creatures flying low over the river forming reflections, perched on the trees, sun drying on the river bank. He didn’t see any aircrafts gliding, choppers stationed, jets soaring high around. He felt alone for the first time since the journey.

“Now is the time to land. There is enough space for your wings to spread out.” Charlie was eager to hop off the nest and wait for her flock. She leaned out of the nest to see the flock of birds pass by. Just then Skywinds126 hit on his breaks but it just put him off balance. Due to that Charlie slipped out of the nest, fluttered her wings to stay in air. She tried calling out to skywinds126 but his speed sucked out her scream that followed next. Skywinds126 looked behind and saw her holding on to his right engine. The pressure was pulling her within and her energy was draining out. He had to do something quick in order to stop a major accident from repeating itself. He feared for his own life and for the bird that put him in this situation in the first place. He switched off the right engine and tilt to the right. He was losing height. He called out to the bird, “Quick try flying back to the nest.” There was no response from her. “We don’t have much time.” He cried. With the weak flaps of her wings she went towards the front wheel while the plane managed a steady position. Both their eyes showed fear and struggle at the same time. Once the bird sat safely in her nest, the plane started his right engine again and prepared for a safe landing.

But there was no such thing as safe landing without a pilot, without a runway, without clear signals…He dived straight into wide spread green foliage. The dense trees provided cushioning but the jerks and the branches tore his left wing. The pain ended as quickly as it was induced. Charlie held still in her place due to the shock. He found some space as he reached the ground and landed with a thud.

His eyes adjusted to the dust storm that he created due to the crash. He saw some faint outline of some familiar forms. And the dust settled he saw few choppers, a jet and other aircrafts of different ranks scattered around. Each had some sign of destruction. Was he hallucinating, he asked himself. Did he crash into another hangar? They all looked at the new addition. It was a welcoming stare. Charlie flew out, still droopy with the fall but managed to perch on a nearby tree. Skywinds126 looked around; saw trees on one end, a river taking a curve on the other end. He saw the aircrafts lying on the ground and some hovering around him from above. He looked at Charlie and said,” I’m not alone here.” Charlie smiled and flew back to meet her flock. {end frame shows an aerial view of the two ‘migratory lands’.}

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Robot Update- Digbejoy Ghosh

Trying to fit the boy in the robot.

ALERT

Those of you who have had your stories more or less crystallised now need to actually put up your pages with thumbnails.

Tiya: More cartoon strips

7. Nico and Eli with backs turned to each other. Grumpy face. "Look at you two. Best friends but always fighting."
-Ana is now shown. She's sitting at her desk continuing the chiding. "Aren't you ashamed of behaving in this manner?"
-After some time. Ana at her desk yawning closing her book.
-Climbing up the stairs. Sleepy, droopy eyes.
-Opening the door to her room.
-We see Eli and Nicodemus on her bed, huddled together sleeping peacefully. "Oh Hell!"

8. In the kitchen, Eli sprinkling salt and chilli into the various dishes. "No food for a rat is it? Well, I'll teach that Nicodemus-"
-Meanwhile in heaven. St.Peter turning back, "Are you just going to stand there watching while he does this?"
-An hour later on earth. Nicodemus placing a plate of food before Eli's horrified face. "Elijah, I want to make up for any rudeness on my part. I'd made this food specially for you."
-In Heaven, Peter and an angel rolls on the floor laughing. "Good one, Master."

9. Nicodemus: "Women are the spawn of all evil. They should not be kept around!"
-Eli: "Yeah! Look at what Eve made Adam do. Or how Delilah ruined Samson!"
-Ana: "Well however, the wisest man in history had to keep 300 wives..."
- "Damn Solomon!"

10. One nun telling the Abbess, "My, my, aren't you a blessed woman. 87 years and yet so youthful and healthy!"
-In Heaven, St. Peter is sleeping at the gates when he dreams of Mother Beatrice arriving there."
-In the dream. "Well, hello there Mother. Your room will be in the attic of cottage 134."
- Close-up of mother's furious face. "What?? You get me a room in the penthouse or I'll show who's the boss!"
- St Peter wakes from the dream, panting and sweating.
- Him looking through a long list. "Hmm...10th July. No one will notice if I push it further just a bit more, will they?"

11. In the church. Ana May thinking.
"The atmosphere in the Church is so calming."
- "So serene. So tranquil."
- "This place every man ought to want to be." She look to her side.
- Eli and Nicodemus sleeping in the pew. " I mean, just see how peaceful they are."

12. Mother Beatrice and the nuns arranging an image of Mother Mary at the altar.
- We now see the backs of Eli, Nicodemus and Ana as they watch this. Eli says, " I don't know about you guys, But I kind of preferred the old with the blonde hair."

13. God brewing up a storm in the skies.
- Down on earth, in the Abbey a curtain sways hitting the Mother Mary statue making it fall.
- Later, the Abbess enters and sees the broken statue. "Oh my God! The new statue. Whoever did this is going to get a good lashing from me!"
- Up in the sky, God hiding behind a cloud. "Uh-oh-"

14. Jesus trying to wake God who is fast asleep. "Father, wake up! Hurry!"
- "Jesus! What, on earth, is wrong now?"
- "Get up! Nicodemus is threatening to kill Mother Beatrice!"
- "Geez, Son. Let it be." And God rolls over to continue his slumber.
- Jesus standing beside with arms crossed. "Alright, pops. When she comes up, I'm telling her what really happened to her statue."
- Empty bed. Jesus with a triumphant smile on his face.

15. In Nico's room. Eli: "I've told you a zillion times. Everything should be kept organised. No clutter. Just look at all this."
- In Heaven. We see the backs of St. Peter and Gabriel as they lean over the clouds and look down.
- Them turning and looking over their shoulders.
- We now see a pile of books on the Hevaenly floor (Different version of the Bible- NKJ, Catholic edition, NAV...)
- Gabriel: "Pete, he's not coming up anytime soon is he?"

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Monday, February 22, 2010

Shilo-Character Sketch

The Rock Clan
known as 'Atut' (meaning unmovable/unbreakable in Hindi)
are the oldest creatures in Khoya.They’ve been here for millions of years.
Inherently still in nature, it is this very stillness that makes them excellent keepers of   wisdom.
 “Written in Stone”, they record the history of the universe. They are keen observers though their greatest sense is that of sensing movement and the sounds of the earth. They do not record by sight or meaning of the sound. By sensing the vibrations of the earth (because of their inherent stillness). this history is recorded not in the form of words but wave patterns...that change as they sense and record more. This process is wrongly called ‘weathering’ when infact it is just a manifestation of their internal recordings of 'what has been'.
Curious-reserved-silent and Still. Slow moving.

The following scientific experiment is inspiration to how patterns are made in the heads of the 'Atut'
sensing vibrations.
(the experiment is rather trippy as well)

Neeti : Story

It was cold and windy.

John dug his hands deeper into his pockets, an attempt at trying to beat the cold.

His scarf blew in the opposite direction as the wind hit his tweed jacket.


Funny how when you feel alone the streets seem to reflect the same emotion.

He smirked and then it hit him.

He started to cry, silently. The mannequins were his audience.


He stopped. He looked up and saw the towering skyscrapers. He felt small and insignificant.


He then walked into a building, nothing too fancy. The facade was rather welcoming. He noticed for the first time the two trimmed shrubs in the pots.

John got into the elevator. The way up seemed so long. He slumped against one corner and watched the indicator show which floor he was on.


Finally the doors opened at the 20th floor. He fumbled with his keys and he was crying again.

He got into his house. Minimal but homely. But it didn't matter anymore.


He walked over to the ornamental fireplace and kept the prescription and the black box. He sat on the little stool close by, and got his cellphone out.

He said “Gary”

He kept that by the phone next to the prescription. The phone rang five times and then went to the answering machine “....Please leave a message.”


John shed more silent tears as he spoke, “It's over. I am done. I...I...I have to take the black pill. He said I can't be cured. I have AIDS. I am of no use any more. Society doesn't need me and I must take the black pill. I ....”


And the answering machine automatically cut the call.


A machine cut the call and now a pill would cut his life short. Ironic.”, he thought as he took that prescription in his hand.


As he read it for the 5th time in the past 30mins, the last 30mins of his life..

...After further diagnosis, I confirm John, age 32 has AIDS. It is my medical opinion that he take the black pill as he has now rendered himself useless to society and is now a hazard to the people. Signed Dr...”

The writing got blurry.


More tears..John folded the letter and tore it and the then tore it again and again. He let go of the pieces. They fell to his feet like confetti. He put his head in his hands and cried.


He stood up and looked at the black box. It was his death certificate. He touched the box and he had goosebumps on his hand. Sweat on his brow.

He opened it.


It sat beautifully on cushion. The black pill was shiny and it reflected John's face on it as he stared at it.


He picked it up.


The pill had already begun it's work. Human contact was enough really. It changed the persons perception of the pill itself and made the person take it.


John's hand moved to his mouth, it opened. He put the pill in and swallowed.

His eyes shut and as he shut them, he fell.

He lay there lifeless on the floor. His prescription lying around him..like confetti.


A small light beeped over the fireplace.

It meant the officials knew the pill had been consumed. They would come to dispose of the carcass.


>>>>>>>>


Murphy sat with his drink. He kept moving the glass in small circles as he rested on his plush chair. A big huge side lamp on his right. On the side table was a family photo. It was a old family photo in a metal vingate frame, from when things were great.


He sighed. He looked at that photo and said aloud, “I shall be with you soon.”

He smiled.

He got a piece of paper out and read it aloud, “Dr. Murphy Holt. It is my medical opinion you take the black pill as you have completed your services to society. Signed Dr.Murphy Holt”


Not too many people could do this. But he could. He was a man of international stature (on the wall are medals, certificates and plaques). He stood up and walked to one of the plaques.


Noble Prize in Medicine for creating the Black Pill. He looked at it proudly.

He had created it so that his wife could die a painless death. He remembered her being in pain 30years ago. The cancer had taken over and she lay in a hospital bed and nothing could be done...


His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the door bell.


He walked through the hallway to the door.

As he opened the door, the door came flying in his face. It hit him on his nose and fell back.


A man walked in and the Murphy could only see a silhouette through his blurry vision.


How could you do this? You killed him! YOU KILLED HIM?!”


Murphy tried moving backwards, still on the floor.. “What are you talking about?”


The silhouette moved closer and closer, “Don't tell me you don't know why I am here!”

The figure was now in his face.


He..He...” “I... I... just gave him my medical advice..”


You hate people like us? Don't you... But..he was my lover!”

The silhouette grabbed him by the collar. Lifted him and pushed the old man against a wall.


Murphy tried to struggle.

"You don't have to do this"

The silhouette pushed him harder against the wall.

"Accept death.." Murphy said still trying to struggle.

You killed him...and.. that I WILL NOT accept!”

The silhouette stabbed him.And stabbed him again.


Murphy screamed in pain. As he slumped to the floor in a pool of blood, the black box fell out of his pocket.


The silhouette picked it up and dropped the knife. He stood there holding it.

He walked to the chair and went to the side table. He opened the pill box. Took the pill in his hand.

He looked at the family picture and picked it up..


He said.. “This was for John. I am sorry...Mom!”


A small light beeped over the medals, certificate .

It meant the officials knew the pill had been consumed. They would come to dispose of the carcass.