I’ve been out of Bombay for more than a month now on shoot. In Delhi and things aren’t going so well. Some days are good. Some days are dreadful. Most are just plain boring. Good days are days when the producer or director take any sort of interest in what I have to say. Good days are days when I manage to have a nice chat with someone on set or when any mildly attractive man makes a pass at me. (Even the Drivers and spot boys count these days, and in Delhi the buggers aren’t bad looking..) Bad days are days when there are work fuck ups or delays. Boring days are days when nothing makes a difference to me. A really cute guy can profess undying affectation or the shit can hit the fan at work and I won’t flinch, nothing registers and I whistle to fill the silence between my ears. And I like I said, I mostly have the boring days. I sit in my hotel room in GK 1 at 12:40 am feeling like my life is going to end any minute. I have spent the last hour bawling my eyes out for various reasons. The catalyst was the incredibly miserable news of hearing that one of the girls who works on this film and who I am quite close to lost her 10 year old brother last night to pneumonia. After this I also heard that over the last 7 years her mother, father and older sister have all passed away. Like fucking familial hara kiri. Her brother was the only family member she had. She came back to work today to distract herself and also because dude, now her house is completely empty… Oh dear the tears are starting to welt down again as I type this. I can’t imagine what she must be going through. The absolute horror. The terror of unfeelingness when grief of such a magnitude consumes you. After that I realized I had started bawling for many other reasons. I was (am) miserably lonely. The loneliness is no more just palpable, it has become me.
Today is a bad day for blogging. It’s all sounding wrong and magnified. Maybe it’s not all so bad I think. Some of the people are fun to work with. Some aren’t. Some apparently will get drunk and grab your tits and say they want to fuck you as I realized on a clubbing night out with the unit. Yes Yes, this is the sorry state of affairs. Is it any wonder then that I’m consumed with misery and disgust? That again and again I only seem to inspire these strange rushes of lust and lewd desire and simply nothing else. That I seem to worry about dumb things like my sex life while someone has lost her entire family and is completely alone right now….