Let me paint a picture: Guwahati, Brahmaputra’s quiet waters, a guy scrolling through his phone so intensely he could miss an earthquake. Yeah, that’s Aarav. And as it turns out, that was also... me. Somewhere between watching cooking hacks I’d never try and dogs in sunglasses, I realized I was in a doom scroll spiral of epic proportions. And just like that, the idea for The Scroll that Stole Time was born.
This film isn’t just my answer to one of our era's biggest questions—Are we in control of our devices, or are they running the show?—but also my personal journey, navigating ano-budget film while staring deep into the glowing abyss of my own smartphone.
Initially, the script featured a young woman trapped in social media scroll-land. But plans changed when I faced the small hurdle of… a lack of locations, cast, and budget. The local mall permissions? Didn’t pan out. The Instagram-recruited actress? Got busy. Enter Phillips Neog, a 9-to-5 pro who knows his way around a camera and, thankfully, my script. Thus, Aarav, a man in his 30s, took over the storyline. With a quick rewrite and a shift from malls to local markets and lakes, The Scroll that Stole Time became an improvised love letter to Guwahati.
Improvisation quickly became my middle name. Armed with my dad’s shoes, a few natural light sources, and Phillips’s expressive talents, we set out to capture Aarav’s descent into the digital void. The result? A series of scenes as spontaneous as they were soul-searching.
Imagine creating a film with no crew, no lighting, and no snack budget. I wore many hats on thisshoot—director, editor, costume designer (ironing shirts, anyone?), and chief snack provider. Natural light became my best friend, and my editing skills became my safety net. My toolkit: my trusty Panasonic Lumix S5iiX, DJI Mini 4 Pro, and a willingness to do whatever it took, even if that meant ironing Phillips’s shirt and offering my own shirt and my brother’s jacket.
Budget limitations? They’re the mother-in-law of invention. Turns out, when your budget is tight,creativity flows. When Phillips wore white on a grey day that screamed “no contrast,” I quickly improvised, lending him my own shirt to bring out the colors in post.
Days before filming, I stumbled onto a video essay about Wong Kar-wai’s Chungking Express, and it led me to watch the entire film in awe. It hit me: maybe I didn’t need meticulous plans or afull crew (it helps to have a crew!). Wong’s style of raw, on-the-spot filming resonated deeply. So, we went guerrilla-style, capturing unplanned shots and raw emotion wherever we could find it. The market scenes, dream sequences, and glitchy effects were inspired by this approach, adding a surreal twist to Aarav’s journey from reality into the digital maze.
At its core, this film questions our society’s relationship with technology. Aarav’s day unfolds in a sequence of digital distractions, forcing him—and hopefully the audience—to question who’s really in control. When Aarav locks his phone and finally breathes in his surroundings, it’s a small, but meaningful rebellion against a life controlled by screens.
The film wraps with a final twist, introducing Aarav’s doppelgänger. Is he free, or is he still in alarger system? It’s a mystery, one that leaves us pondering if true freedom from our devices is ever achievable.
One thing I wanted to highlight was Guwahati’s blend of natural beauty and urban life. Eachlocation—whether it was Chandubi Lake or a bustling local café—contrasts sharply with Aarav’s endless scrolling. The peaceful river represents real life, flowing by as Aarav sits still, lost in adigital storm. The choice of these spots wasn’t just about convenience; they reflect how weoften overlook the beauty around us while we’re glued to our screens.
The Scroll that Stole Time is more than just a film; it’s a small wake-up call. If one person puts down their phone mid-scroll and glances up at the world, I’ll consider it a win. I hope this film offers a bit of humor, a touch of introspection, and maybe—just maybe—a reason to think twice before diving into the next reel.