In a white tank top and red patiala, she stood rummaging through a file full of papers that she was carrying with her everywhere. I noticed a hastily done bun at the back of her head which was fixed by a blue ball point pen that had ran out on her in the middle of the second scene, although the pencil tucked behind her right ear was all she needed now.
It was chaotic around her. Everyone ran all around, people couldn’t be found, somebody broke something and everybody lost something. On stage her creation unfolded, and here she was holding the strings and tying the broken ones.
I didn’t get it…I didn’t get how she was doing all of it. It was chaotic around her.
Then there were those eyes. They told a story of a young girl’s vibrant dreams and heartaches, of a broken road which was taken, of creativity and strength.
Those dark eyes from some other century told a story of passion.
It was chaotic around her. She reveled in chaos.
The title “The Eye” refers to the eye of a cyclone, the centre region of calm.