Last week, I had a really dull heart. Nothing would inspire the slightest amount of joy and believe me I tried! But, it didn't help that I watched a film about a young girl abused by her parents and made pregnant twice by her own father, another film about a Holocaust survivor who was used as a human guinea pig in genetic experiments, and a third one about a girl kidnapped and sold to prostitution at the age of 7!

In retrospect, I didn't try hard enough to cheer myself up.

It was depressing because I had to say goodbye to a few friends. Some of them moved to a new city and that's fine. I don't mind those kinds of farewells at all. They mean a whole new world of possibilities for them and I hope they will translate to joyous reunions at various points in our lives!

But, the worst is where you lose your friends forever. They are gone whether you say goodbye to them or not, and their absence is the only kind of presence you are left with for the rest of your life. Sometimes these farewells happen suddenly where you have no time to prepare, but they leave behind a deep scar that may never heal.  

But what do you do about the kinds of farewells that come with a lot of notice? How do focus on the now, and make the best of the time you have without thinking of the eventual end? And what if you can't make the best of the time you have but don't want to look back in regret!

Death is really cruel on people who are alive. I realize with each person I lose that it becomes harder and harder to cope with.  
   
I used to sit in front of the green screen in the film studio wondering which part of the world it could put me in. I could be in the dystopian future or standing in front of the blue waters in some tropical island or driving a flying car in space... My favorite places to go to were the busy streets in Hyderabad. Sometimes, I liked to imagine that I was sitting in the verandah with my grandparents and watching the rain while having one of those loud, passionate discussions about really absurd things.
   
The reality was, I was setting the green screen up for someone else who knew exactly where it would put them. And soon they would not only be able to see themselves in that world but also make us believe that they belong there. I was to make that happen as believably as possible!  

Still, I used to tell myself that I was luckier than the actors for several reasons. For one thing, I can't act to save my life. But more than that, I was lucky because these actors couldn't let their imagination go wild like I could. They were limited to their preordained roles in a preordained setting! If the scene demanded that they fight a giant squid in the middle of the rainforest, they have to put that thoughts of driving a flying car to rest and pull out the sword and attack the now defenseless (and invisible) squid to the director's screaming instructions! 

The other exciting thing I could do was go into the editing suite and change the backgrounds behind the actors as many times I wanted. So the fight could take place in Mordor, in the realm of Sauron or in a Jedi temple. Of course, I would have to eventually put them back in the rainforest as was ordained by my boss!

These were the small perks of working as an entry-level cinematographer or editor. I think of my green screen days when I am reminiscing the good times with my friends... only, now I am beginning to feel more and more like the actor whose character and story was predetermined, and there is nothing left to imagine.