So, there was this young man. Well, he's been dead for quite some time, but once upon a time, he was young. And he was in University of California, Los Angeles. Well, there exists a misconception that the young man quit UCLA, one of the best film schools in the world after his graduation film was criticized. Well, he didn't quit. But, apart from a short film and a documentary, he did not make any films in the future.
Well, he was too busy getting famous.
He sang. He wrote. All the world was a stage to him.
And he sang,
"We filed slowly, languidly into the hall The auditorium was vast and silent As we seated and were darkened, the voice continued. The program for this evening is not new You've seen this entertainment through and through You've seen your birth your life and death you might recall all of the rest Did you have a good world when you died? Enough to base a movie on?"
Well, you must know who I am talking about. James Douglas Morrison. The great American poet. The poet of the land of freedom of speech and expression.
But wait! The Indian constituition also has the words which are similar, don't they? Ah well. They never paid attention. And, the stage, the screen and the paper, they are supposed to aren't they? They are supposed to portray the society, aren't they? But, ah well! We the mad people living in Nagar do not have access to the outside world, do we? How do we know that this Waghmare crack is based on certain living creatures of the society? Well, we aren't supposed to know!
And, this entertainment. Yes, we have been seeing it through and through. Enough to make a movie on, to write about and learn from. All the world's a stage and we have exits and entrances.
Well, that's my cue to leave one stage and move to the other.