Yesterday:

 

Head n body shape: round.

Hair: minimal around the ear n grey in colour.

Height: 5ft 4 inches at the most.

Dress code: cotton safari shirt, ash in colour, and cotton trousers ash in colour too.

Eyes: small, twinkling and, smaller when he laughs.

Profession: junior artist in the regional Bengali film industry.

Age: 78

 

Flawless acting. But he was facing difficulties in reaching the same perfection while he dubbed his words. He could''nt apparently seem to follow the technicalities of the method. First he sat, then he stood, then he said, may be he should eat something, so he had his lunch, and then started again. It was difficult. Very difficult. Then he said he shall sit aside, and watch, while another artists dubs. He asked for a bottle of sprite, I got it for him. He drank half a glass and started burping, inside the ac studio!

Me, & a couple of fellow assistants, along with the director, laughed our heart out. Sometimes he'd start talking about all the big names he had worked with, in his hey days, and he'd keep talking about big directors, big actors, internationally award winning films in which he has had his unacknowledged contribution. We all, at certain point of time, got bored, and looked away, sometimes changed the topic. But he kept talking.

After 3 hours, ignored enough, and kept away from the recording room so that bigger stars and younger, faster people could come in and grant us their precious time, he was let in.

This time, a certain, irritation, on our faces, watching him skeptically through the glass, and a fatigue in his eyes. Being the "dub captain", and a little guilty of had helplessly insulted him may be, I asked him to sit down and make himself comfortable if he wanted to. He refused.

And he asked for the pilot.

In the next 15 minutes, his dubbing was over. Sweet man came out of the recording room, all smiling. The smile that a lil while back , was promising to fade away, was back, right there.

My director was happy, I was satisfied, that the day's work was over. But he kept talking. It felt like he was some walking talking Bengali Film Biography. The only words I remember from that unending epic was " Ajkal toh amakae keu daakena, chenei na amake" / " No one calls me these days, they don't even no me"

 

Today:

 

Head and body: longish, sharp, tall, fresh.

Hair: fluffy, hero cut( J )

Height: 5 ft 10 or more.

Dress code: white t-shirt, blue denims, aviator glairs.

Eyes: not noticeable.

Profession: new struggling actor in the regional Bengali film industry

 

He came in with this scribble of over-confidence all over him. When he met me, the handshake he offered was, like he was the Casanova, and I was going go get bowled over in a few seconds. He had told a fellow assistant director he shall finish in an hour.

I was happy, I had a good chance of finishing work off earlier than expected, and that would mean, meeting up with friends, adda, and so much of fun.

He started, and the bell rang, it was the death rung of the entire working team. A slouch that he could nt do away with, a pronunciation problem , that did not look like much of  a problem to him, a dialogue delivery , that had nothing to do with the even the character's grandfather. Was he worthless, or was he worthless? After a certain point of time, I , who never shouts, never misbehaves with co workers, (not because I cannot, but because I am new, I cannot afford to), started shouting, and losing patience. The man, kept doing to and fro between the recording room and the system room, we kept teaching him the novel most of ways to say things. But, all in vain.  This happened thrice in the day, and we had wasted more than half the day recording nothing from his bit.

At the end of the day, the director had to take the call, and now, after a day full of cribbing behind him, he is not dubbing for himself. Some new guy is coming day after tomorrow to do his job. Oh I forgot, while some other junior artists dubbed, he dozed of on the sofa, twice. And the ending note: " jawkhon uni pilot er acting ta dekhe boledichhen, amio toh tai korchi, amar ta kyano finalize kawra jachhena tahole?" /

" when he's repeating the same style as that of the pilot, why cant I repeat mine? I am doing the same thing right?" I shut the door of the car, and left.

 

Irony. God's dense , sense of humor, or his intention to put variety in to my mundane work life.. call it what you may…

 

I've never seen contradiction so well defined. Kudos gawdie!