The Billionaire’s Sleep

Everyone likes to say, the south is so different from the north. At Bombay airport a young man wheels my luggage 15 meters, states “you give me money now”. 10 rupees doesn’t quite do it for him, he says “give me 10 dollars”. I say “eat me”. Our transaction is concluded.

In Cochin a group of fishermen using huge counter-levered nets (weighted with massive rocks) wave me over. The gang leader tells me that since the Tsunami none of the commercially viable fish come into the harbour so he just comes to work for the tourists. I help them haul in a catch of tiny shrimp and sprats, drink chai and eat rice cake. Then I give them some money for the privilege of my labour. It felt different.

Saw a Kathakali performance last night. I shot a video which I think will cut together into a nice 10 minutes instead of the several hours it took. It was pretty easy to follow the story. What was interesting was how long it takes to say ‘leave’. About 10 minutes of gestures and grimaces. Of course the character has to say ‘leave’ 4 or 5 times so it was a fairly short dramatic piece that somehow spiraled into several hours. What really struck me was how foolish the main male characters all seem to be. Pompous and self-righteous but foolish all the same.

Well. I started at the end of Holi. Down at Chowpatty beach where thousands of young men wash colour out of their hair, clothes and skin and play an odd version of sumo wrestling where one person is thrown out of a square drawn in the sand by another 15 or so.

As I watch hundreds more stream onto the beach and into the water from surrounding neighbourhoods, out of cabs, three to a motorbike and along Marine Drive. I decided to follow this flow of people to its source.

I’d taken a video camera rather than stills because I imagined Holi would be this spectacle best captured in motion but in fact it’s a very intimate, one-on-one engagement. Individuals approach you crying “Happy Holi!” then gently mark your forehead with a brightly coloured tilak. No, they think, that’s not quite right, so they grab you by both cheeks asking “How are you, my friend?” smearing further colour over your face. Now your clothes need some attention and what… no colour on your arms? That can be mended. Top it off with a silver coloured handshake a splash of water and welcome to Holi.

As I got further into the meelee it becomes both more exhuberent and more agressive. Men drink a cocktail of cane juice and what smells like raw alcohol. Encouraging each other to drink more while simultaneously smearing additional colour over each other’s faces. Small pink and purple children run around throwing water at each other. Any idea I had of simply being an observer has long since been abandoned.

Eventually everyone moves off to wash, but the spirit of goodwill remains. Today Bombay is quiet (strangely enough), people take the time to chat and ask questions. Usually when I say I’m writing a screenplay people ask me who will be in the film? Today they ask me to tell them the story. I end up sitting on Marine Drive, under a tree telling the plot to a group of multi-coloured men and women, eating ice-cream and leaving everyone in suspense by not telling them the ending. They laugh, saying “Now we’ll have to see it! We know people like you!”

Back in the hotel. The manager was unimpressed but everyone else who works there laughed, slapped my back and said happy Holi!

Met with a venture capitalist yesterday. I’ve been thinking a lot about the opportunities for content creators in India (and the world) with regard to building branded ‘products’ across all possible platforms. Actually, those of you who know me will remember that used to be my job.

What was amazing was to sit in a cafe with an investor who not only understood this but was building a major fund to put into these kinds of projects. His first fund eclipses the total budget I had for 5 years at the ABC substantially and he’s thinking it’ll be spent on ‘one, maybe two projects’.

Just sitting and watching TV (all 500 channels) is inspirational and depressing. All these cool things I wanted to do at the ABC that were ‘too expensive’, ‘too complex’, ‘not possible’ are been done on channels run by kids in their 20’s.

There’s a lot of opportunity for TV producers here in India. Especially if you own formats that are G rated (or G + a little bit of naughtiness). Even if you don’t own the format, first in first served.

Spent the day visiting Daulatabad (fortress home of Sultan Mohammed Tughlaq), the Ellora caves and various other sights around Aurangabad. Being the only Pakeha on the tour I got an interesting insight into different attitudes. The doctor from Delhi spent most of the tour commenting on how insane Muslims are, building these extravagent structures, knocking down temples and putting in mosques. His forensic examination of the tomb of Aurangzeb was particuarly disturbing. Grilling the blind guide till he got pissed off and ceased communicating with us.

It was my first real exposure to a basic set of opinions held about Muslims relating to cleanliness, condition of their children, their contribution to India, partition etc. What was interesting was the Maharashtran on the tour expressed a much more moderate view privately, that talk like that only ends in trouble for everyone.

We did go to the Shiva temple where my wish was for Amitabh Bachchan to take a role in the film. This was duly conveyed. It was pretty scary, wandering bare chested through a crush of devotees trying to remember what I had been told to do and in what order. I think my vague approximation will have some positive input to the financing process.

At the Ellora caves the whole Ramayana (integral to the film’s story) is carved out along the wall. I just followed along. A great way to learn the guide pointed out.

Hail that is. It’s not often you get to shelter from a hail storm in a cave temple carved out of a cliff face 2300 years ago. Took a local bus to Ajanta caves and wandered round taking photos (will post when I can get to a computer with a working CD drive) and listening in on other peoples guides (I move too slowly for them).

Watching Korean tourists postrate themselves on the floor of the cave in front of a Buddha Stupa and some Japanese monks pass themselves off as Indian residents to get the cheap price added to what was a very interesting day.

The famous Ajanta wall paintings are great, but it’s the ceilings and pillars that are the most amazing. Buddhist baroque is a riot of flowers, fruit and fat people. Each image not quite contained by the painted cell it inhabits. Leaves break out across the ceiling, faces are hidden in the shape of vegetables and deer leap from beam to beam.

Tomorrow I’m off to Ellora where a friendly co-passenger of the bus back from Ajanta says I should do a ritual that will guarantee Amitabh Bachchan plays the role of Rajiv in the film. His response makes me feel the film could be big in India, he liked the story but felt it needed more ‘heart’ like King Kong.

Decided that I might have a little break away from big cities so I’m in a muddy (yes it rained today) little town called Aurangabad (named after a Mughal emperor who briefly moved his capital here.) I’m going to explore 3 sets of caves over the next 2 days then back to Bombay.

It’s funny being a solo tourist again. Actually having to negotiate everything myself. I think I’ve been living in a bit of a bubble for the last month (a great bubble) and now I’m having what people would call an ‘India experience’.

Did spend one evening wandering the market in Bombay. It is a full on vibrant city. Shopping, shopping, shopping. I’ve become a bit too confident now. Happily browsing in all sorts of odd stores down narrow lanes. I think no one can understand why I’m digging through boxes of capacitors and valves (yes valves!) and then asking if I can take photos of them.

Spent the day shooting in the old city. Not that you’d know it. Shot almost everything from the hip. Nonchalantly being a tourist wandering around. It will look exactly like what it is. An impression of walking through the bazaar for an hour or two.

Once you venture off the main chowk you really are in another world. I found myself in the centre of the copper coil and insulation market. Lanes so narrow I would have to crouch so as not to get hit by the huge loads carried on worker’s heads. Then into a block of spice sellers, then stationers. All this business carried out in tiny stalls, electricians arriving with a couple of porters, loading them up with insulating foam, trekking through the lanes, hailing a cycle-rickshaw and negotiating their way to the edge of the old city where they’ve parked their car. The driver guarding what has already been purchased earlier and delivered by rickshaw.

Also travelled on the new Metro. Clean, efficient, rapid. I was advised to get on at CP (Connaught Place) then get out in the middle of the old city. You rise up escalators from an imaculate, airconditioned atrium into the full chaos of the commercial city. Best of all it was 8 rupees, not too crowded and really easy to negotiate. Auto-wallahs beware!