March 02, 2013

Edin Nov Syvat (A Whole New World)

I remember walking through a field of roses. 
I remember how good the morning dew felt under my bare feet,
how the warm wind embraced my skin, the rumbling silence of the mountains 
and that heavenly scent… of home.
I wonder what people see reflected in their mirror every morning. What do they say to themselves? 
Do they breathe in all their insecurities and worries before they put on the mask 
they have grown so accustomed to wearing that they don’t even notice it anymore?
Do they make a conscious choice to lose themselves in the charcoals of the big machine 
that their lives seem to add up to? 
As I make that choice I wonder if everybody else loses themselves 
in the comforting certainty of the mediocrity that the brand new day offers the same way I do. 
The feeling that followed my arrival in this foreign place and my exposure to all of its grace
and peculiar ways was an odd mixture of awe, euphoria, and hurtful self-doubt. 
Along with nostalgia, the cold wind which I quickly got accustomed to brought a scenery
that has always reminded me of my friends back home and they way we would laugh,
reluctant to accept that we were not children anymore and that we would soon be far away 
from one-another, from everything and everyone we knew.





My mind often wonders off like that. 
Sometimes it’s easy for me to become lost in such thoughts, 
engulfed in the memories of a place I’ve over-romanticized and idealized ever since I got here.
I do realize such memories have probably been twisted and distorted beyond recognition, 
courtesy of my feeling like I’ve been put out of context, 
stranded on an island with people I cannot even begin to understand.
What I consider my strong and responsible self always rushes to 
get me out of such corners of my mind and remind me of the reason I’m here, 
the truth behind the choice I’ve made and the sacrifice of the many people back home, 
who made it possible for me to have a shot at a better life and greater happiness.
I don’t know if I will ever feel like I belong here or anywhere else for that matter. 
I have no idea where this road will take me. 
All I know is that I’ll always… remember.
I dont want to be like a grain of sand, burdened with the stillness of time, 
waiting for the wind to twirl me around until I am buried in the footsteps of others. 
I want to be like the sea, - free and unruly - 
wild with the hopes of one day reaching the shores of home, 
embracing them once again.


Producer & Director : Manav Bhinder
Actress : Gabriella Vlahova  
Director of Photography : Cynthia Monica Fabella Panggabean  
Editor : Poeti Nazura Gulfira Akbar
Monologue Writer : Viktor Petrov
Music : Nawaaz Chady

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