Drishya/ Driz

Freelancing is fucking hard. Freelancing in a new city, starting over and building your career from scratch is a mammoth undertaking, not for the faint hearted. You decided to free yourself from the shackles of corporate life to be your own boss. Now you have to pitch yourself over and over and over again. Rejection upon rejection upon rejection. 1000 “unfortunately” emails. Mysteriously being dropped from programs you have been selected for. You keep going at it, battling a bruised ego and a broken heart, watching your peers move far ahead as you figure out how to stretch your groceries longer. It puts a strain on your relationships. Shame. Regret. Self doubt. Are all those years of work, all those huge achievements, those impressive lines in your Cv, worth nothing? You steel yourself and repeat the mantra: it’s all happening soon, this is just the tough phase. Is it worth it? Well, one fine day you get a break from the “unfortunately” emails. Someone recognises your value. You feel seen. That day it feels worth it and you keep swimming. The current takes you somewhere, somewhere good, hopefully. Freelancers need to be a little delulu to keep going. This is the nature of the job, and I’m trying to accept it. For me, it’s worth it to forge my own path. My ND brain simply cannot handle the arbitrary rules, power games, and low standards of excellence in an office set up. Are you a freelancer and struggling? You’re not alone. Let’s talk. Are you employed and always flirting with the idea? Been there. Let’s talk.

My Paati was a boss lady. She did everything a little differently and lived life on her terms. An artist and art appreciator in times of industry and homemaking. She patronised all the dance performances, plays, concerts in town. She watched films in Tamil, Malayalam, and English and even joined a film club in her final years, in her 80s. In her own way, she was “alternative”, like us. She would’ve really enjoyed Mathi’s company and been very proud and in awe of something as glamorous as the Berlinale red carpet! So in her honour and his, I designed this shirt and veshti (traditional South Indian drape). Have you seen the Desi maximalism trend? It’s a cool way for Indians to own our over-the-top-ness but as a South Indian it isn’t really my aesthetic. This, on the other hand, is. Trying to push ourselves to own being “too much” in a city of edgy black ;) Would you like to own something like this?

I quit my hard earned job as an executive for Prime Video in Jan this year. It wasn’t easy moving back to Goa after months of living in transit. I realised I’ve been burnt out not just from this job, but from all my 10 years as a working professional. I have hustled and hustled so hard, living in survival mode. When I finally paused, when I realised I’ve finally gone from being an “aspiring” writer to an actual writer, I wasn’t relieved… I was stuck. What now? Who am I? Who have I been this entire time? Am I the neurotic hustler, or the mindful creator? Can I dream of a lush life and create meaningful, honest work? Is this the calm before the storm or the disastrous aftermath of it?? Wait, do I want the calm, or the storm???? Why am I always oscillating between? I was stuck. I had forgotten how to write for myself, without a 1000 voices in my head - of producers, financiers, actors, executives and a faceless potential audience. For the past 9 months, I’ve been on a healing journey. I have learned to stay still, and allowed myself to go equally crazy. I worked on being active, and I hibernated and let myself go. I was cripplingly lonely sometimes and surrounded by love most other times. I slowly started writing for myself again. To live for myself again. To rediscover myself again - fuck it’s tiring to do over and over again, but no escaping it my friends. In June, I was accepted into what is arguably the worlds most premiere Series Writing Programs - Serial Eyes, in the DFFB film school, Berlin. I’m one of 12 amazing international writers to be accepted, and the only Indian. After a highly competitive application process, months and months of some fucked up bureaucratic visa struggles, and many existential crises, I’m off to a new phase of discovery. I’m now breathing easy knowing that I’ve got myself here. That the hustle paid off. I’m realising now that I have to accept that I am both things simultaneously. I am ambitious and I am content. I am the calm and the storm. I should just … remember to carry an umbrella I guess!!!!! (Hi how was the delivery of this stupid line on the voice over? Enjoyed hearing me laugh at myself??) Wish me luck friends

What does a the life of a writer actually look like? I’ve been thinking about how to show you my professional, creative life without it being 40hrs of staring into a laptop with my face in a permanent scowl; and then endless existential crises, too many unread messages and an unvacuumed apartment. Freelance life can look like many things, and like nothing at all. But I’m on a mission to document it in all its chaotic, unpredictable, wild glory - because if we don’t romanticize it, who will? So I’m starting a new series. A week in the life of a screenwriter in Berlin. I’m lucky that I chose the best week to start - they don’t always look like this. I’ve been in a hired Writers Room for the past two weeks. To develop an exciting high budget concept into a pitch able series for the Indian & European markets (fun hint on slide 3!!) This means - 10-5 schedule - An office space - complete focus ie all other projects on hold It’s an extremely demanding, extremely rewarding process. It requires full and complete commitment, physically, mentally, emotionally. It puts you in a “flow state”: that much-desired yet elusive thing all creatives strive for. To be so immersed in creative play that it no longer feels like an effort and you can’t deny the direction you’re magnetically pulled towards. This is the ultimate dream for a screenwriter, to have a working project that allows you the money, time and space to do this. Unfortunately, it happens a handful of times a year - IF you’re lucky. Peppered the week with exploring the Friedrichshain food scene - for us Moabiters, the options were mind boggling. We had the BEST Banh Mi at a nondescript place (DM me if you wanna know, I might gatekeep it) and a pretty good hungover Tonkatsu Ramen after a night off celebrating the graduation of the latest Serial Eyes bunch (debauchery on slide 5!) And then made up for it by finally joining my neighbourhood gym. Next week, the hard part: writing. To actually pen down all the amazing things we cracked in the room and make it all make sense. Next week, you’ll see a more typical writing week without the glamour of the writers room. Yikes, hold tight.

Just recovering from an intense week in a writer’s room with my buddy @nic_chev , where we squeezed every ounce of energy and used every last brain cell. I am nothing but a husk of a human rn Who knew thinking could be so fucking tiring? Writing is an endurance sport. I’m convinced. Anyway if you need me I’ll be Homer Simpsoning back into the bushes byeeee

You’ve probably noticed I’ve been posting on IG more than ever recently. Consider it exposure therapy to become less self conscious and own my performative side. I have a deadly paradox within me, an ambivert combo deal : a deep yearning to be seen and an extreme aversion to attention. Look at me!!! No wait!!! Stop perceiving me!!!!!! After all, I am a writer. We love to hide in the shadows. But did you know I’m also an actor? I’ve been on stage since I was 8 years old, and it’s how I got into storytelling in the first place. It’s been an interesting challenge. Some observations: -I’m anxious the day after posting. Second thoughts, after thoughts, better ideas, regrets, cringe. But if I truly believe what I’m sharing, or I felt it authentically in the moment, I’m doing it 100% for myself, then I stand by it, then I don’t regret it even if it doesn’t land. Life is too short to be avoid being embarrassed just to be cool. Plus - The embarrassment is making me feel alive. It’s not a very positive feeling, of course, but if you bear through the yucky cringey feeling… it’s humbling. I’m just a silly human trying, failing, learning, living. I’m not a brand. I just am. - I’m not hung up on big numbers (yet?) Even connecting with one person is worth it. Some people don’t even respond here but they talk to me about it in person, and I found it even more fulfilling, surprisingly. Online as a way to connect deeper IRL, and not the other way around. - I’ve found solidaridity ; many friends and colleagues around me are grappling with the same subject and are struggling to post, to be seen, to promote themselves. Sharing both reservations and resources has been super helpful. Maybe you’re one of them, and I hope this helps you in some way! It doesn’t have to be so serious, perfect, or permanent. That’s what i struggled with the most. Try it with me, share more. I’m sure you have more interesting things to say than the idiots in high places rn :))))))) Love u xx

I’m trying to consume more mindfully. Replacing mindless binge watching (byeee Love is Blind, I’m breaking up with you) with something lighter, but still valuable. I’m also trying to replace too-comfy reruns with fun, breezy reads. It’s working. And then there’s the stuff I live for. Art I need to be “in the right mood” for. I find that the less time I spend mindlessly consuming the more my appetite for the Real Stuff increases. Say no to second screens!! Books Mother Mary Comes To Me - destroyed me. Required reading for all the strong women in my life, imo. If you haven’t, you must. Bossypants - Breezy timepass read. Has been on my list for like a decade? Don’t regret it but felt more like reading a book of tweets lol. Wedding People - thought it would be a fun read but I’m struggling to finish. What’s with books reading like screenplays with pages of dialogue? What happened to “show don’t tell”? Still, I find myself picking up the kindle instead of mindlessly scrolling, so would recommend having books line these in rotation. Films I got myself a Yorck Cinema ticket here in Berlin, which allows me to watch an unlimited number of films in theatres for 20 euro. Best purchase ever. Half a month down, two films down. Could do better, but still happy. I’ve rediscovered solo dates and I love it. The Drama - enjoyed. Dunno what all the negative energy was about. Interesting premise, fresh visual treatment, great performances. Not sure what they were really trying to say, but enjoyed the ride. Pillion - Alex Skarsgard as a power gay. That’s it, that’s the review. lol. Sweet and nicely paced but didn’t leave much of an impact. TV Series Ah, my kryptonite. Proud of my self-restraint, tbh. DTF St. Louis - the best show you’re not watching right now. Crime mystery Trojan horsing an exploration of aging and sexuality. That rare kind I watch and go “ok I need to study this screenplay”. (Contd in comments because i clearly am using this platform like my journal and assuming u giv a shit)

They weren’t lying about the streets on May Day 💥

I’m trying to bring reading back into my life. If you’ve managed to remain an avid reader through the years, congrats. You’re better than the rest of us, and this isn’t for you. (Though please continue to lend me your books!!) This is for my chronically online, doomscrolling, binge-watching buddies. Who, like me, used to walk around with a book attached to their arm like an extra appendage, who were reprimanded at school for reading storybooks behind textbooks, whose parents had to ban Harry Potter at the dining table and then console them later when they had to take a day off school after Sirius was killed off. The ones who loved decoding life through long-form essays discussed in detail over coffee with a friend. And then somehow, over the years, you stopped reading entirely. Life became so stressful that escape required 4k and cliffhangers. Attention spans were colonised by technocrats, so now reading through a fifty-word caption seems impossible, let alone an essay, and a book? Forget about it. But you can consider this a part-two of my post on revolting against hustle culture. This is a revolt against the attention economy. Again, it’s easier said than done. But I am trying. Here are 4 weird, imperfect hacks: 1. I start my day by reading. Not a crazy innovation, I know. But it’s more common to read before bed - after the day’s responsibilities, as a wind down. I do that sometimes, too. But if I read first thing after waking, it’s my first dopamine impulse. It sure as hell beats scrolling, and I’ve started the day on a fun note. 2. I’ve deintellectualize reading, for now. I choose books I can binge-read instead of binge-watching a mindless show. If you’re like me, you have a long list of classics and must-reads on the list. Important literature. Contemporary classics. But hey, you can’t run a marathon with broken legs. In addition the book I really SHOULD be reading, I have back-up breezy reads. For now, the important thing is not what I read, but that I read at all. (Continued in comments)

I struggle with this daily. But I’m trying to keep up my morning routine - no texts or emails, reading first, nutritious breakfast before coffee and work. I first realised I needed this after my cortisol signs were all over the place. My nervous system was wrecked. Even years after quitting a full time high octane job, I felt obligated to start my mornings with the same rushed anxiety. My digestion was terrible. Constantly bloated. Easily depressed. Reached for the midday cigarette more often. Felt like shit at the end of the day. Hustle culture has you chasing from the moment you wake up. WhatsApp messages demanding answers. Inbox throbbing with urgency. Instagram waiting to fry your senses with war and suffering and Amazon affiliate links. I know what you’re thinking. What a privilege. Of course I can do it, I’m a freelancer. My own boss. Imagine how deep hustle culture runs that even then, even when my time is my own, it’s so tough to allow myself the luxury of a slow morning? That I am consumed with guilt, with fomo, with doubts of “am I a contributing member of society?” as I do it. I know it’s hard, seems impossible even, but do it as resistance. Fuck the capitalist overlords. The orange fuckers running and ruining the world. Fuck your shitty boss or inhuman workload or unfair pay or bitchy colleagues. Or if you’re a freelancer, fuck your temperamental clients or that payment you have to chase and beg for. Fuck em for one hour in the morning, that’s all I ask. Don’t let anybody own you. Reclaim control. The day is yours. This life is yours, and yours alone.

When I was a kid I was obsessed with one of my aunts who would only wear oxidised silver jewellery with her Kanjeevaram saris, and not the traditional bright gold. She was badass. Edgy aunty. I am now that aunty, just a little extra cunty 👻 🥵🌶️ Finding my new style in Berlin. It’s liberating. This is a city where you are pushed to be so authentically yourself that it goes a full circle and becomes performative. What a vibe. I’m just starting the ride.

Ready to be attacked by fans of The Pitt. In my defence, I’m a scaredy cat and I close my eyes through all the bloody stuff anyway… #adhdproblems #womenwithadhd #audhd #writerproblems #thepitt