BOX OF WORDS
Thursday, June 14, 2007

test

posted by Firefoxcub at 7:47 PM
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Monday, March 19, 2007

posted by Firefoxcub at 3:57 PM
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Thursday, February 15, 2007

THE UNWRITTEN SCENES

NOTE: This scene occurs immediately after the famed Balcony Scene. SO Juliet has just been talkin to ROmeo who has made an offer of marriage to Juliet. Her Nurse has been calling her from inside and Juliet's been stalling. FInally, she says goodbye to ROmeo and goes back into the house.
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INT. JULIET’S ROOM - HOUSE OF CAPULETS - NIGHT

Enter Juliet. Her Nurse stands by holding Juliet’s nightgown.

NURSE
Marry, my child!
Stay within. Thou art a malapert!
The night has closed and dawn is on the break;
Thou shalt not suffer the villanous cold in my wake.
Why, upon a time were my Susan’s verdure loured
By such a dreadful chill... the fever she brewed.
But hark, what sigh escapes thine lips so sad?
What sight hath so bestraught thee that to stray
From my counsel thou hast found a way?

The nurse moves towards the balcony. Juliet blocks her path.

JULIET

Nay, soft! Nothing remains without this night,
Darkness hath fallen fast and robbed of sight...
But tarry!
My mind’s unrest needs thy assurance:
What of love have I to understand,
To let go or to make sense?

The nurse starts to undress Juliet, undoing the complicated laces of her evening gown.

NURSE
Love? What of love? Fie, upon thy doubts!
Love is no manner of question or jury withheld.
Suffer no queries on Young Paris’ account;
Men such as he come by only in pleasur’d dreams.

JULIET
Then, ‘tis love indeed my fettered heart doth note.
This night hath been a dream in which I float.
Oh, this sequestration moves me so
To turn back the clock an hour ago!

The Nurse struggles as Juliet prances dreamily about.

NURSE
Be still, young child. This beautous gown of satin
Wilt not bear the tears of your young love.
Had I such gowns when I were but a maid
I’d spend my hours marvelling it’s make.

JULIET
‘Tis but a gown, of cloth not wonder, Nurse.
It has no tears, no wounds that can’t withstand.

Juliet pulls away tearing her gorgeous gown. The Nurse falls back holding onto the torn piece of cloth.

NURSE
Ay, but this cloth protects thee from vagaries
Of misguided eyes and drossy enraptured breezes.
Know that love hath not yet the power
To keep thy soft bones warm despite the lover.

JULIET
Then you know not true passion that endures
Sickness and health, envy and hate it cures.

NURSE
What hate doth thou speak of herein?
Paris is beloved by his kinsmen and by ours.
Hast thou partaken of thy father’s brew?
Unwin’d these thoughts do not assemble true.

JULIET
(dreamy)
Ay, nurse. Wine, if wine taketh the form of words
And spills the fortune of one into another’s. Reverse.

NURSE
Thou doth speakest in riddles most foul, my lady.
This noddle wilt not suffer to unravel thy thoughts
That fast falls out thy head like the hair off mine.
Make not the balding errors that plague your youth-
Does thou mock me with thy minikin mouth?
Juliet is pouting at the nurse, impatient to tell her her secret.

JULIET
By my troth, nurse, no.
But prithee, I only ask thee for thy faith.
I’ve swilled no wine into my chaste blood,
Nor any of Paris’ enchantments drunk.
I speak only of the young Romeo
The prince of my captured heart and soul.

The nurse drops Juliet’s dress to the floor in shock.

NURSE
What’s this? What’s this? But Juliet thou said-
Thou promis’d ‘twas none but a learned rime.

JULIET
Ay, but rimes oft seize the life of blood
And sail through on Cupid’s aimed arrow
Fall into flesh uncaring of sorrow
‘Tis not my fault that love caught my marrow.

NURSE
(distraught)
Thy love is but too young to know it’s true
Think what wars this slight of heart will brew!
Hath Romeo been not a Montague
Oh hath this love been but in fair Verona-

Juliet grabs the wailing Nurse by her arms and shakes her out of her woe.

JULIET
Love knows no age nor time nor name nor place!
‘Tis but a happy accident we face.
Think not of wars, or swords or angry words
But that this bond will recreate what’s lost.

NURSE
Fill not thine head with foolish dreams. Depart!
Foul minions for whom thy pretty legs won’t part.
I know thou thinks this varlet Nurse knows naught
But in mine day, was I a fetching maid
Procured the affections of many a charming man
Oh, the past returns with such remembered force
I feel his gaze upon my burnished cheek-
But when the time came to hold mine hand in his
Swift as the wind, clear as the crystal water
He crept, that cad, ungently into the night.

JULIET
Quiet, Nurse!
Romeo is unlike your vulgar suitors.
He hath mine trust, affection and mine heart;
Our names and fortunes we’ve resolved to part.
His love and heart would he give for mine hand
To exchange wedding vows and together stand.

NURSE
Oh God! A folly! Is there no remedy?
Wilt thou not stop to think of your Lady?

JULIET
No thoughts pervade my mind but Romeo-
Upon the morrow, by nine as the sun wakes
Dear Nurse, carry my message to my love
Tell him I will come, and ask wherefore and whence.

NURSE
The foolishness of love abounds so strong
My weak supposal repeats itself to naught.
But ‘ere I of youth, perchance I choose the same
Upon the gad to gallop away with a kern!

Juliet is thrilled. She whoops for joy and throws her arms around the Nurse, embracing her tightly.

_________________________________________________________________________________

This was done for class. It's a scene from SHakey's Romeo n Juliet. A scene that he didn't write. THat was the assignment. To write a brand new scene from one of the five screenplays/scripts we read. I chose RnJ coz i thot it'd be fun to fuck with the iambic pentameters. ANd it was. I know i lost it in the beginnng but i pulled it together in the end. Ha. Im so impressed with myself. :)
THere's another one but i'll post it later. formatting that shit here is painful.

posted by Firefoxcub at 3:16 PM
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Monday, July 24, 2006

Dead wood for brain cells

So my first attempt at a feature is about the things i know best: smack and love. It was also pointed out to me that nearly ALL the ideas i pitched and most of the movies i love have tragic or bittersweet endings. Im surprised I didnt kill my protagonist in this one but no worries... he's in the shittiest place possible at the end of the movie!!
BUT I can't seem to write a decent treatment. It is SO hard. So if im DYING to fill 25 pages of prose on an idea and story that i actually know quite well.... what will the screenplay process do to me?
I want to fastforward into nine months when i can be home or wherever my mother is. I need food that does NOT involve cheese. Where spice does not mean pepper and salsa. And warm weather is NOT 19 degrees centigrade.

posted by Firefoxcub at 4:15 AM
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Saturday, July 15, 2006

Ain't I cool?

Well... film school has its perks. Even though i have NO time to write for myself, theyre getting me to do quite a bit of wirting. Screenplay wise.
So i wrote my first short film last month and this month its been picked to be pitched. Im quite kicked abt tht. What that means is that I get to pitch (sell) my story to the production team sometime this month. If they like it, they'll film it.
Let's hope they like it.

posted by Firefoxcub at 9:32 AM
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Friday, May 26, 2006

Hell High

Smack this bitch up-
smoke it hot
smack snack
smack.
Vaporise:
Slow , smoke risin'
into coal lungs sinkin'
into pink cells runnin'
down the blood drain.
Nerves shot
hell high
flyin' low
breathin' slow
sweatin' sex
in summer's glow.
___________________________________________________________________
I have not written much else aside from assignment work for school. I am to be writng the first draft of a short film by tuesday and maybe at term end i will convert that to prose and post it up here? sory. bear with me. or not.

posted by Firefoxcub at 1:32 PM
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Sunday, April 30, 2006

A MARRIAGE OF SORTS

There is just too much to do, he moaned.
She slaped a spoonful of rice onto his plate and it stuck there like glue on paper.
Eat, she ordered, leaving the room.
He picked up a spoon and pushed at the stickiness. She re appeared once more this time carrying an aluminium vessel out of which she poured onto his plate a ladelful of thick brown sambar. He mixed it all up and swallowed it, refusing to taste it. He felt really mean doing that coz she took a lot of effort to cook for him. So what if she wasn’t a brilliant cook, it was the effort that counted. His mouth disagreed strongly, but then what did mouths know anyway? They opened up at the wrong times and stay shut at the wrong times too.
She sat down beside him and leafed through the stack of papers he had been moaning about.
You should be more organised, she said.
He rolled his eyes and swallowed another mouthful.
If they were my papers I would be more organised.
She didn’t like the accusation. He smiled to let her know it was a joke. He had to treat her like a wild animal. Never knowing when she would pounce and always ready to appease her.
Light was fading. Her red sari had by now absorbed the curves and contours of her body and hung about her like as if it were meant to be there. The dark kohl in her eyes had spread forming a halo of black around her brown eyes and for the first time he noticed how stunning she looked – her sun burnished skin and the effect of the kohl on her dark brown eyes…
She stood up suddenly, bangles jangling and walked away.
He started. Had she noticed him looking at her? She didn’t turn back so he had no way of knowing. He wondered what would happen if she had noticed. He wished to death she hadn't noticed. So thinking, he swallowed the last of the rice and picked up his plate. He walked outside to the pump where she normally sat in the muggy evening to cool off. There she was: Her hair hung suspended straight instead of doing its usual twist and he sari clings to her body as if afraid that his lust filled eyes of a minute ago would peel it away from her body.
He shudders at the sudden gust of wind. Cautiously he approaches the pump. He is half expecting her to pounce upon him and tear him with her bare hands. He keeps his eyes lowered.
Give, she holds out her hand asking for the plate.
No no, I’ll wash it.
Give, she repeats. So he gives.
He watches as her bangles clang against the plate and her hands as she washes the plate.
It is dark now and the stars are shining.
He wonders what he is going to do about the papers. It is such a bizarre case.

She, a child of an India that is at once both glamorised and pitied, was the wife of a man who wished to ‘legally’ divorce her. And she had no clue what that meant.

It all happened a year ago. Actually it all began when she was married to Dev. She was 9 and he was 15. A perfectly illegal marriage in a little village. Dev had given no more thought to her than he would have to the daily moon outside the window at night. He would notice its absence but never acknowledge its presence.

He grew up and left the village to work at his distant uncle’s motorcycle factory. She would visit him once a year and wonder what she was supposed to say to him. He was older and quieter, while she was still just a teenager. If she talked to him about the going ons in the village, he would grimace and tell her to forget about the village and its petty issues. And he seldom talked. So there was what the modern world calls today a communication breakdown. Into this broken web entered a local city girl-Sara. Bright and full of big dreams. She wanted to be a lawyer. Anasuya had no idea what lawyer meant. (now she does).
Anyway needless to say, Dev fell in love with Sara and he wanted to divorce Anasuya in order to be able to marry Sara.

She looks at him and for the first time asks him: ”What does divorce mean?”
“It means he is legally no longer married to you”
“oh…” her eyes focus on the ground below.
‘are you married?”
“no”.
she goes in to leave me to my memories.

I came very close to marriage once, but it didn’t feel right. She had been my girlfriend for a long time and it was expected of me, but when I thought of waking up to her everyday for the rest of my life…it made me realise how much of my time without her I enjoyed! The shock of the discovery had shaken me. Suddenly everything that I had been brought up to believe in-marriage and love and money had all gone out the window. There was nothing to do and I felt like Querry. I decided to move around a bit. So I made my practice mobile. On one such trip I met Dev. I was defending his uncle’s motorcycle factory against a case that stated that the parts were unsafe. After the case, which we won, Dev approached me and told me wanted to file for a divorce and asked if I would help him. I agreed. I assumed it was Sara he wanted to divorce, so it was a bit of a surprise when he told me about Anasuya. I had to go to the village and get her thumb print he said. It wasn’t going to be easy coz Ana wasn’t an easy woman. And I couldn’t go to the village and get a thumbprint out of her just like that. I would have a lot of explaining to do.
So I went. But surprisingly Anasuya never once asked me what divorce was, but she refused to thumbprint it. Then I found out that theirs was child marriage. But since they were now legally adults I wasn’t sure if their marriage was legal or not. I had to arrange the additional papers for that as well and all that took a lot of time. It wasn’t too far from the city so I returned to the village each night and stayed in a hut next to anasuya’s that Dev had had built for me.

An old woman passing by who had heard our conversation grimaces at me: ”unmarried men should not speak to unmarried girls in public” she warns.

Just then Anasuya came out.
“Can a person marry another person after they get divorced?”
“Yes”
“Can I marry after he divorces me?”
“Yes”.
“Give” she said
“What?”
“The paper…”
I went inside and brought the paper and ink. She dipped her finger in and pressed it against the paper. She is now free. I look at her and suddenly I realise I might have to leave now.
But I realise that I have lived with her. She has cooked for me and washed my clothes. And I realise: I am married.

~ Finished on 8 October, 2001
________________________________________________________________________

Sorry, but i havnt been writing. been to busy with vanc ouver stuff and losing tremendous amounts of weight. On the bright side i have lots of coool clothes. the kind you'd all like to hear about. ha haha.
apart frm tht i'm house arrested coz the parents attacked and found some stash on me. the last leaving india bit. God i am soo gona miss my Mazzy (who btw is in jail and if neone has thrusday's Deccan Herald, look in the crime pages about masood ahmed...) In other other news, after 2 and a 1/2 years of having a crush on my mazzy, i finally got to make out with him two weeks ago when he threw a little going away part for his aisha. GOd it was amazing. I know, this officially confirms i have the WORST taste in men. I'll say a big fat NO to all the goood looking eligible bachelors in town but ill melt for a low class, married mozzie stud with a wife and four daughters. there's a story in that. Actually in why i respect my mazzy so much. there really is. it .. a very heart wwarming story of love... i think i'll go write it now.... goodbyes and next post will b frm vancouver. i'm leaving on the 3rd of May.

posted by Firefoxcub at 12:27 AM
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subtext

'So', she said, 'Have i got a little story for you...'



Is 23 years old.
(Ex) Junkie.
(Pro) Marijuana.
Professional Daydreamer.
Accomplished Procrastinator.
Currently living at: Vancouver.


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