What follows is the result of an idea to connect the field of philosophy and thought with the world of drama. Let us choose sentences to ponder from the statements of the members of the philosophical group, which are archived in the “Chistiha Blog” (http://chistiha.blogfa.com); and after manipulating the concepts of those statements, and doing a brief exercise and editing, let us create a dramatic idea that will continue to form another dialogue, another concept, and another thought.
In the principles of drama writing, “ideation” and “drafting” have a specific method; but we tried to be one step before the idea and the plot. At the same stage of mental spark or, in our own words, the “study” stage, where the writer’s hand is open to writing down any image, concept, or point. Here, we have not limited ourselves to not mentioning the technical instructions, performance arrangements, dialogue, staging, and other matters, and left them for more detailed plans; on the contrary, we have completely written down whatever came to mind at the moment.
During our group meetings, we came to the conclusion that it was not necessary to obtain refined and precise plans from our conversations. It was only necessary to immediately edit and record everything that came to mind in an instant as a “study.”
And now we share the same with you. May these exercises and sketches be the beginning of a path to step on a bridge between philosophy and drama.
Ideas on the Bridge from Philosophy to Drama: Etude One Hundred and Seventeen
Note: These sketches have been registered with the Islamic Culture and Guidance Department. And the intellectual property belongs to the author.
These sketches are only allowed to be republished on the “Chistiha” site.
Etude one hundred and fifth
A storyboard for a short film
He spends all his time on his tablet. He doesn’t even feel like opening his laptop.
He sleeps until 11 o’clock during the day. He wakes up around 11 with a Welsh voice. And around 12 noon, he heats a glass of milk in the microwave and in seven minutes he makes a honey egg with a cuddling dish (a container placed inside a pot), making sure it’s honey; that both the white is completely set and the yolk is a little loose. Then he goes to bed and starts browsing Instagram with his tablet. He knows every nook and cranny of Instagram better than its programmers. He has to download every movie from YouTube. Once his tablet heats up, he goes and gets his laptop, puts it on his lap, and watches it while lying down. His eyes get tired, and once or twice he has thrown his laptop out of his hand and off the bed, and when he woke up he saw that its corners were damaged, and once the back of his monitor was completely broken.
In the evenings he has to go to the gym. He wants to have a six-pack. The only photo on his room wall is a Photoshopped photo of himself with Ishaq Qavidel’s body, on top of a forest mountain. Between 1 and 2 o’clock he turns on the treadmill and runs until he’s drenched in sweat. Then he takes a quick shower and shaves his face and calls. Shadi is like him. He has a monotonous life. She is his cousin. Although they have no relationship that can be called family. Both their mothers are divorced and gone, and Shadi’s father, who left a long time ago, has gone to Turkey. And Shadi is alone here. With his friends. And if they go to a friend’s villa or go hiking, as they say, maybe they go in a group. There will be six of them. Shadi calls this cousin Ishaq-Ali Khan! He doesn’t mind whatever Shadi says. He has gone all the way around his shoulder for Shadi’s sake and has a tattoo; he has the story of “Orange and Bergamot and Go and Don’t Come Back” engraved all over his shoulder. There is only one thing he hasn’t been able to do for Shadi. That is driving. He doesn’t have a license. He doesn’t have a diploma either. His father won’t let him go all the way from home to the crossroads. He has never been to a bakery in his life. His father is an absolute ruler. The 21st century. A rich father who forces his son to travel to Antalya and Taiwan every week; but he won’t let him learn to drive. He hasn’t even let him finish his studies. At 7 o’clock Shadi usually comes after him in his own car. He is six years older and got his license seven or eight years ago. He also has a black basset hound. He is a perfect match for his cousin’s Welshie Gorky. When they meet, they wag their tails, turn around, and bark as if they hadn’t seen each other for a thousand years. They walk the dogs around the area until 8 or 9 o’clock, and sometimes they go around and visit acquaintances and buy doping drugs from the pharmacy and so on.
When Shadi leaves him at the door at the end of the night, he should be with Shadi. But that’s not the case. He has no feelings. He says a dry goodbye and goes inside through the door of the complex to go to his own door. He doesn’t know any of the neighbors on any of the floors. He hasn’t even encountered the building’s security guard once. Except for a few times when his father wasn’t there, he was traveling, and the security guard called to get the garbage bag at 9 o’clock. Usually, the security guard is spoken to when they ask him to carry the shopping bags up and put them behind the door. Or help him grab the head of a sofa and do things like that. Or take their dog for a walk. But he hasn’t encountered the security guard yet.
At midnight tonight, his father still hasn’t come. The security guard called at 9 o’clock, but he didn’t open the door because they didn’t have any garbage. It’s half past midnight. He just remembered that his father hadn’t come. He goes to the refrigerator and is tempted to open one of his father’s sodas. It’s not good for him. The Six Pack diet prohibits all carbonated drinks and processed foods.
He goes and turns on the TV. He lies down on his sofa bed in front of the TV. Walshi is also sleeping in the corner. He turns down the TV volume so that Walshi doesn’t wake up. He picks up the cordless phone. He dials his father’s number. It rings several times. A woman answers the phone. The woman speaks to him politely. And calmly. The woman on the line explains that his father had an accident at 5 this evening and that an ambulance brought him to this hospital at 7 and fortunately he had his insurance book with him and that they took him to the operating room at 9; they were going to operate on his head and back. And by the way, during the operation they discovered that he had a tumor in his head. And that’s why the operation took until 10:45; And how good it is that now her son has called and now she has to come to the hospital… The phone in her hand goes dry. And she can’t swallow her saliva and it spills on the sofa. Velshi wakes up to the noise of the TV, which is a scene of a battle between two ships. The nurse hangs up the phone after saying hello a few times. Driving is also a problem. She has to call Shadi. Velshi has come and is feeling bored. She has soft hair. She is thinking that she wishes life was always like the six-pack diet; it had order. She wishes everything was magical like the story of the orange and the bergamot. She wishes her mother was by her side now. Whatever it was.
The theme of this story was about “unemployment.”
And the question:
What is the relationship of today’s generation with unemployment? Does today’s generation know that unemployment means lack of identity?
We tried to answer that today’s generation does not know. A generation whose ideals and role models they do not know; Isaac Qavidel probably did not know many things either.
Author: B. Khosravani
It is recalled that any copying and extraction of these ideas, from an ethical and legal perspective, is only possible by mentioning the address, and use for performance will only be possible if the author’s written consent is obtained.