Black and White

My week has run itself out against the backdrop of the same image. In a telling comment on the state of the local media,
that image was conspicuously absent from the television screen.

Watching TV is so much easier if you hit the mute button. Not only do you not have to deal with the vapid dialogue of
politicians bent upon self promotion, or reconcile the gaps in the news stories where the truth should be, you also get to
develop your own creative skills while improvising suitable dialogue. The thing is, do this often enough and you'll start
fancying yourself as a filmmaker. Which Is what has happened to me.

The first movie I make (I plan on a trilogy you see) will be titled "Aadmi". It will trace the tentacles of a primitive mans
psyche as they attempt to find purchase in a sterile world of steel and fiber optics. This man will be born to ignorance,
birthed in insecurity, and celebrated with bursts of gunfire into the skies of a town in the frontier. A sub-plot will be the
story of the boy on the balcony with a bullet in his head from the gunfire. As the infant grows, he is weaned not just from
his mothers breasts but from his image of her and her influence. He will ape the actions and attitudes of his own gender
and it will dawn upon him gradually that his mother, and the women that chatter like magpies in and around the house, are
weak. Weak in strength because they cant lift what he can lift (or never try to), weak in will because they forever look to
other bipeds for approval, and weak in life-force, more shadow than substance.

He will, over the years, come to despise them for their weakness. And over the years, his notion of 'woman'; will settle
like bedrock into the foundations of his world view. The pillars of the house of his mind will be some medieval notion of
honor, gleaned from a network of peers and elders guarding a fortress of treasure hoarded for centuries (decades into the
future when you and I are just worm food the fortress will fall to reveal legions of preserved foreskins..but that's not in
this movie).

Our (anti)hero will grow up to be the president of the local chamber of profit, and a leading light in the hierarchy of
spiritual development. No songs will be pictured on him because he refuses to consort with his dancing girls in public.

My second movie will be titled 'Aurat'. It will be shot at foot level, as that is the realm which our lead character occupies.

Our perception of the world, as seen through her eyes, will thus be a distorted one. Ants and cockroaches will seem
mastiffs, and men will appear giants. As our character pops out of the birth canal (I'm sure I can get his past the censors if
I shoot in Pushto) she will be met with an embarrassed silence. A distant relative who lets out a delighted shriek will be
taken outside and shot. The baby will be whisked of to a subterranean nursery where, in the company of other female
infants, she will be taught to 'scuttle'. As she grows and mimics the actions of those around her, she will become so good
at it that to an outsider, or someone looking down from above, she will be indistinguishable from the other insects in her
realm. Here the story takes an interesting twist. Those who control her, or those whom she ALLOWS to control her, will
then make the decision to demonstrate their progressive attitude by sending her to school.( Here there will be a song, set in
lush fields of poppy with women in swingy skirts singing about the same man). The insect will this acquire a cloak to
shield her from the eyes of the world. She will wear this mask of 'education' to blend into her surroundings (another
clever camera shot from above will reveal all that she comes in contact with are also wearing masks). She will become a
(ta da!) midwife, and she will marry a wealthy trader (any correct guesses as to which one will be rewarded by free season
tickets to all the skin flicks showing in cinemas in Peshawar, which mean 'say bubye to your family, say hello to the atom
bomb'). They will procreate. She will teach her daughter to scuttle, but is condemned to failure.

This movie will end here.

The finale to my trilogy will be exactly one minute long. It will be in black and white and have only one frame. On screen
will appear a picture of a dead girl, sprawled in a pool of blood leaking from a hole in her head. The girl's eyes will be
open. They will say something. For those who cannot understand the savagery of the dispossessed there will be the
following subtitle.

"A plague on both your houses."

My brief career as a filmmaker will end with the national anthem.