Hungover Saturday mornoon

OH MAN! My blog is so depressing. Like , please , I need to get a life. Who said it(life) was fair. Sometimes you are in impossible situations. Sometimes there is so little time and so much to make the most of. Sometimes you are with people who are older or smarter or more experienced and your ‘good’is not good enough.Sometimes no one really knows there are banshees wailing in your head threatening to wail out when you are making some

power point presentation in front of a crowd or filming some stupid thing.

But who gives a shit. You just do your best and go drinking in the evening.

I resolve not to write sad posts anymore!

In my diary that I kept for many years I always took to writing when I was sad. That means my sadness is so well recorded. And rare moments of extreme excitement – usually to do with boys I recorded with explicit details.
So those are the only recordsI have

So yeah no more sadness.

While shooting a story on the eviction of hawkers , I ended up in a dilapidated decaying complex. Shops here sold scrap, old laptops,antiques,fish, anything one can think of and birds.

I had birds when I was a child and seeing birds instantly transports me to worlds of innoccence and such intense love for these little creatures.

These birds looked ill , their feathers were discoloured and they huddle together . They were literally in clumps.Almost corpses. One bird was all alone in a cage and afraid of every passerby. Understandably there were many so he had no where to fly to in his cage.

Anyway, my emotions told me I must get the owner into trouble.

The shop assistant sat on the dirty floor, amidst bird shit and stray feathers relishing his fish curry and rice.

I asked him if he had macaws.

He suddenly sprang up and took notice of me. He went in to wash his hands and came back to call his  boss. The boss wasn’t picking up.He kept trying while I waited patiently, half feeling bad,half thinking what a good story it would be.

He said , the phone still on his piece , that he could give me grey parrots for 23,000 and macaws for 2 lakhs.

He said that because of the bird flu,he didn’t have stock. BUt that I should come back after a month.
I said  I would thinking I would bringthe cameras.

But suddenly I thought of this man living a sordid life making money out of birds and felt bad about cheating him.

Though my heart was still with the birds miserable and caged far from the glorious amazon forests where they belong,

I realised how hard it is to take sides.

 I have many photographs.I have little droplets of ideas about great large things to write about.I saw a child in a posh cafe sitting so quite while his pedenatic father who talked business with a white man.The white man occasionally asked the boy

inane questions in a sickly friendly voice meant for kids. I thought that would be worth a post.

I made a film.

I went to Bangalore and had some fun.
But then in my heart I just feel so hideously empty. I just wish there was one person who really cared, really cared.

I feel like a fool for caring, really caring.I could sit in this library and cry . I have nothing much to write about, no poetry, no jokes.