Saturday, March 27, 2010

The Unfinishingness Of My Character

* In my hour of madness and stress...I was trying really hard to calculate the RGB values of various colors...but Naveen Ji (Cyber) once said, that all my beginnings were very nobel...but I could never finish anything, coz I get bored very easily...So this is the product of the unfinishingness of my character...




Fishy

* I just wanted to make something with fish...Absolute timepass

The Grapes Called Politics


The background has a chroma screen hanging. There are two chairs at some distance from the screen. Comfortable chairs. A multitude of lights are burning from all directions keeping the two chairs as their point of focus. There is pin drop silence and a faint sound of a camera breathing and crew rolling.

On the right seat sits a well shaven man wearing a jet black suit. On the felt there is a hard faced, well poised man also wearing a beautiful carbon black suit. The two are sharing quite some amount of animation between themselves.

Right Seat: Are you trying to tell me that you actually believe everything that you are saying? And…No, hold on let me finish…and that you think that I should also be convinced?

Left Seat: All that I am saying is that you are young and naïve…And that I know this world far better then the innocent comprehensions of your mind. All that I am saying is that people like you are hired to ask questions in closed rooms like these and you attain celebrity status and start thinking that you know it all. Where let me remind you…

Right Seat: (Intrudes) I did not opt for politics, you did…and in that you and all the 499 with you have failed.

Left Seat: Failed? Are you blind! Do you think the economy was injected by a doctor?

Right seat: (Interrupts) Thanks to private ownership…You have not achieved anything except probably brutality, ignorance, sheer humbug arrogance and huge amount of individual money and power.

Left Seat: So you suggest that everyone should be given money and power?

Right Seat: Not money and power! Education! Opportunity! You should make efforts to eradicate poverty and illiteracy from the country.

Left Seat: (Outraged) Do hell with the country. Do you understand what we would make of this country if we give them all money and education?

Right Seat: Make the country more prosperous; leave its people better off. What?

Left Seat: You ignorant fuck! That would be the primary and the single most important brick in the wall of the eventuality of a bloodbath. By being deprived of some things this country is evading a civil war that now atleast to me looks eminent. All I hope to do is to prolong its beginning till whatever day I can.

We politicians are alright. But do you really think? Ask yourself this…that a mass of people who elect us year after year even though they know and see, will be able to handle confusing elements like money and education?

The whole people are damned. None deserves any better or worse then what already is. In a way they have earned their present exactly as they shall eventually earn their future.

Right Seat: (Stands up and starts to clap)

Left Seat: Don’t do that. I am alright. Those fools will elect me again. I am alright. This clapping…Save it for someone else. You are the misfit in this world not me.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Prisoner Of Surprise


He was sitting on one of the chairs. There were many. Obnoxiously lined and emitting an utterly disgusting odor of order. The room was waiting to be filled by other men as well. A flash flood of humanity in the ordained hour of this universe of a room: Thus it shall again be purged in the sweet smell of chaos.


Men

The right rib of the omnipresent

Are

The great architects of chaos


All order must thus divulge into chaos and chaos thus into order. This being the flux of all things moving imagined understood remembered escaped or merely silently forgotten. God being the mediocritic meter of animal to measure his own departure from nature.

His eyelid dropped and recovered. The blink of an eye. Water to the soil of our vision. Wiper of dreams. The future was filled in a blink. Roaring animals, laughing staring. Millions of dreams watching each other. All with their self desecrated religions, imposing their savage rudeness of misinterpreted, ever so misunderstood misunderstandings toward one another. All hail the lies of this theatre. What men shall believe!


In

The ladder of sequence of all things

Men

Were second last, just above their god


His mouth opened. Something to speak. Communication was the essence of our wars. That is our superiority. Communication and was. All animals mark their territories and trespass. It is the glad rule of nature. But no animal hails a god. None goes to war from behind masked purposes.


Thus

The man shall eventually speak

All

Else in his voice shall fall silent


And he spoke. All things quitened. His voice a music of nature. Harmony of octaves. His voice the trumpet of man. He must be heard.


They

Heard him in silence

Then

Turned white toward each other


Prisoner of surprise. He already knew. The predictability of men. They heard him and broke their silence with a vow. Threw him in the deepest dungeon of their land. Never again shall his breath meet the air that any shall breathe. Never again shall man be allowed to speak. Those animals. Men.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Alone In My Home


Blue is the window
French its décor
All done up the house is
But lonely the home.

***

When all the curtains fall
I shall stand understood
Remembered in this world
But alone in my home.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

The Web Of India

* The pre stage of the website that I had Designed...Now this has been made in to something really really cool...I love the newer version a million times better...though this had that archaic feel to it...will soon update on the sexyness of the latest look...Though when you look at this..what do you think?...I need a name!! Cant think of one...Make sure its on the lines of lonely planet...something that powerful!!




Sunday, March 14, 2010

The Door Of Perception!

* This is an animated mnemonic that I am making for a company, this is the just the back ground. The real thing is yet to be animated. Though this video was just an experiment at the process of it. After the render I realized that even the animation wasn't any good, but I will upload it never the less.

Process: There is not much to it. Mental Ray Occlusion Render exported to After Effects and color Corrected. Thats it!

Next stop animation with character!! Tadang!!



The Door from Yuvraj Jha on Vimeo.

Friday, March 12, 2010

The Slap That Is Sometimes Needed


Curtain Rises

Scene 1

A humongous domed room with 511 seats. No pillars anywhere only seats filled with weird looking fabric faces of white. 500 of them are sitting in the circular rows, clothed all in white kurta (men), and saffron sari (women). 10 of them in the middle at the foot of the rows, typing with an air of servitude. There is another seat in front on the top, enclosed in a box and with a huge chair. The speaker sits there (but he hardly ever gets a chance to speak).

Half of the hall is laughing and the other half is looking at the laughing lot with an air of vengeance. Angry, very angry. The speaker is trying not to involve himself. One fabric face on the laughing side is standing.

Fabric Face: …the woman must stay at home. Kitchen is her parliament, home her country. No need to pass this bill speaker sir. Today you give her this reservation, tomorrow they will want to fly a plane. As it is they are destroying the nation by getting into the armed forces and the civil cervices. Far from giving them a reservation here, I say their education should also be stopped...

(There is much confusion after this.)

Scene 2

A girl is sitting in a moving bus and reading the newspaper. Probably going to office. Her face has an expression of absolute unrestrained anger. White as a sheet it reflects nothing else. The newspaper has been circulated to the audience as well with the same article that the girl is reading marked on it. The bus keeps moving for some time.

Scene 3

There is a rectangular large hall. Very large; filled with about 50 cubicles. The girl is standing just outside one of them with a boy.

Girl: What do you mean by why did I scream at him?

Boy: Why did you scream at him?

Girl: Because those bastards think of us women to be good for nothing…

Boy: (a bit surprised by the reaction, and not knowing where this was headed) what are you talking about?

Girl: (now screaming) those bastards said that women should not even be given an education, that we will want to fly a plane some time, dosent he know that we already fly the plane, that we have gone into space…that if we weren’t there they wouldn’t be either…they also said…(now weeping and screaming) that they…don’t even…have…a right…to education…( a loud noiseas that of a slap).

There is stunned silence in the hall. Everyone turns to the look at them.

Boy gently holds the girl in his arms and softly whispers in her ears.

Boy: In your hate for them, don’t become them.

Lights out.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

The Cow Of Time



They are adjusted in their seats
Speak the speaker
Introduce
The cow of time

My voice: “Let us die in this high school drama
Amateur play writes
And their broken songs”

Teachers and preachers

Satiate!
Educate?

Why are we?
Who?

Their dogs in the corridor
Bull-hounds and hounds
Fierce eyes
Beaten by their mothers

Tyranny

The women bear the symbol
The man barbaric freely roams

Democracy

Servitude kills the chromosome
Surrendered in automation

Grey change
Standing alone in the darkness
Gazes at the mob

Senators rise
Teachers and preachers
Let there be light!

Hounds create their world
Freedom from thought
Education!

Children are served their lives on a platter
Democracy is the best
As opposed to what?

Children crowded with thoughts betraying
Which is the truth
As opposed to what?

Which is the teacher?
Which our master?
Senator?

Judge?
Jury?

Blind men form the future
Those that cannot speak shall introduce
Bring on the play

The last dance of handicaps
The dream forgotten
Anarchy

Man must be saved from man
Mythology

My voice: “Let us die in this high school drama
Amateur play writes
And their broken songs”

Saturday, March 06, 2010

Wild Child

* Alas to my wonder and MR. Dali's grief...this is what has transpired...I love it for some odd reason...Just love it...

Thursday, March 04, 2010

Take It...And Go! Take It And Go!

* I can not put up the approved one's but I can definitely put up the one's that were so bad that they should be awarded. I used to think I was creative, to most peoples satisfaction, I hear by declare, "I am Not". :P :P :P...To the peoples...I think they will fire me for the consistence in my pathetic work! :D :D :D :D...(Next post- Something even more pathetic...pakka). By the way, Including two more, the first two might actually become something. I am in love with the first, Stolen from Mr. Dali of course. For those who were too blind to notice; that is gala herself standing there. (Due Credits)