It rained here earlier today. I couldn’t keep myself confined to my wearied bed. With my head still spinning and my eyes preferring to remain shut, I tuned my ears to the rain, set up the recorder and microphone and got out into the rain around the apartment building and on the terrace.
Some of the different sounds of the rain available when I walked out compiled in this black-screened video are as they were recorded. I have not edited them–no enrichment. Not even the volume. But the rumble of the thunder, recorded separately, has undergone substantial processing.
Manipuri poet and columnist Thangjam Ibopishak at the residence of sculptor, lexicographer, musical instrument maker, writer Dr. Leishangthem Tondon on 21 February 2019
Human body. So soft. So fragile. So docile. Intense pain, inflicted slowly, but consistently, can bend, twist, tear the body, and the spirit, however incredibly strong it may be, eventually gives in, because the body that you call yours is not yours and when pain speaks to it, it has a way of receiving it by taking a few steps back to minimize the pain a bit and it takes the spirit giving way to the necessary extent. There is nothing you can do about this–you are nothing, all you call yours is rented, borrowed, and the body dealing with pain does not need your interference, eventually. You are pushed aside, even when you try to be in the way.
Pain is the ultimate force that moves the spirit or makes it irrelevant when everything else has failed. That is why, as history witnesses since the beginning, humans turn to the body and take recourse to inflicting pain in or eliminating it when all other ways of negotiation and persuasion have fallen short and disagreement persists.
As I learn film editing … My short film … Experimental.
Used two LED bulbs, both of 3 watts.