Scripted

I'm working on a script independently, and by myself, for the first time in my life. Initially, I was very excited at the prospect of creating a plot that I myself would be really intrigued by but as I keep thinking about my ideas, uncertainty overshadows my belief. I've now come to believe that two* (creative) minds are certainly better than one when it comes to this task. On the one hand, you have twice the ideas that you do otherwise and on the other hand, both of you can think together to corroborate the facts around which the plot revolves. Now my script sounds like a figment of my personal imagination — when, in actuality, I want it to be a figment of the major audience's imagination.

As I write it, I recall the time when I wrote scripts with my friends and colleagues (years ago!) and how much fun all those writing processes were — and how satisfying, then, bringing one's own creation to life is. I hope that even though I'm doing this alone, it is still going to reap some benefits. The process is, as of today, in its initial stage but I hope that as time passes by, my ideas age well and do not evaporate.

When I was younger, there were many mixed influences around me. Looking back, I think I idolised all the wrong people because, as years went by, all my idols started to appear like caricatures of themselves. Life is not easy, however. What you think and what you then end up doing are two very separate realities. I think that happened to them, which is sad. The structure of the South Asian society rarely allows a woman to prosper. Being a woman, you need to try 10 times harder than your male counterparts in order to even be given the chance to try your hand at something different. I know that I did. And when I look at the girls (now women) who I grew up with, I can see a similar pattern. If you don't prove your worth or fight back, you're thrown down the unending rabbit hole.

Our men's perceptions of us women also add fuel to the fire. We're perceived to be dainty, helpless creatures in need of a strong, manly arms to guide us through this tragic life. Again, reality is very different because boys certainly do end up being boys. And I say this because they don't grow up. A mature, educated, grown-up, male entity would never fall into such basic assumptions and tread very carefully. Or perhaps that happens too.

My wish, nevertheless, is to prosper and do good by myself and for all those women who never got the chance.

* Too many cooks spoil the broth!