Wake

Monica Stan

I came to Last Ship with a plan. I shall write my script, I shall research, I shall make a film, I shall edit, I shall, I shall

sell sea shells by the seashore.

Unlike other residencies, the stones and the ancientness had called me.

A ship to what? From where?

I had big plans.

And there they were

yellow fields, mustard seeds

early birds

evening chants

namastes

come my shop

curious gazes under silk scarves

masala chai

studios with mystic view

traces artists left behind

Yoga terrace

poha breakfasts

monkey fun

chocolate cakes

sharing bread

stories

home-baked bread

chocolate bread

chocolate everywhere

my precious studio, always green

the huge lemons

the tools

the jewels

the faces and their textures

the many conversations

languages and gestures

My camera was glued to my hand. I had to shoot everything because they were so beautiful.

The Ship had its plan.

The huge delight had also been my weakness and I could see myself entangled in the outside. There was a growing awareness of pain. The pain of old selves being carried across the world.

I cried the first day in Kalinjar. I didn’t know why.

The silence grew

the camera relaxed

the eyes closed

The fires at night

moon bathing

star gazing

the stars of Kalinjar

the guidance of the star people

the blast of the Lingas

the rocks

the Breath

watching

sharing

Being breathed into

I’m afraid of heights. Going down to Patalganga my legs were shaking like jelly.

The darkness was too sweet. The sharp smell of time frozen.

Badminton awake and asleep

I thought I had to catch this Last Ship. Instead I was allowed to fall endlessly into a bottomless abyss

At the end of it all

I had written on my script

I had a new edit of my film

I had filmed material for a potential new film (which may or may not be edited in the future)

I had done research for my series on supernatural beings

Yes, the plan was on track and the kids were alright.

Still this was not it

What I received

which could not be captured by sight, sound or sense

which was there and it is still there

so many months later

It is now here.