The Build-up

Soon after I got the inspiration to do the music video, I e-mailed Salman and told him my idea. We e-mailed back and forth many times, discussing various aspects of the idea. He also sent me a translation of the lyrics, which until that point I did not know, not having studied Urdu. I knew that "sagar" meant "ocean", and that one of Salman's major influences was Sufi poetry like Rumi and Bulleh Shah. Even before I knew what the song was about, I had been captivated by its haunting melody. Now that I knew what the words meant, I loved it even more. But what really blew my mind more than anything else was that the lyrics he had written seemed exactly in line with the story that had come into my head. The English translation of Sagar is as follows:

speak to the canoe shape of your lips
to keep flowing in the stream of your breath
be in harmony with the waves
so that the ocean is your only destination

swept up in the tsunami of life
caught in a crossfire of the storm winds
surrounded by sleeping waterfalls
your my life's shore

in the circle of fire
within the hell on earth
there is a search for paradise
you are my day of reckoning

When I was thinking about the character of the dancer, these were the very themes I kept returning to. The ocean as the destination. Joining with the waves. Searching for paradise. Meeting with one's day of reckoning. I kept imagining the dancer dancing on the dunes; journey to the ocean; dancing at the ocean; diving in. Then, I also began to imagine Salman as part of the journey -- playing his guitar alone in the desert. Part of me was afraid to entertain the idea. After all, he was a prestigious public figure with a very busy schedule. I wasn't totally sure if he believed in the idea, and even if he did, it would most certainly be impossible to coordinate my shoot with his busy international travel schedule.

After he sent me the translation of the lyrics, we had a few more e-mail exchanges. He asked me some legitimate and challenging questions about my artistic vision, which I answered to the best of my abilities. Finally, he sent me an e-mail saying, "Okay let's do it!" I wasn't exactly sure what he by this. He approved of the project, which was a very good thing. But who did he mean by "let's"? Did he himself want to be a part of the project, or was he merely supporting my idea from the sidelines? I was almost too afraid to ask. Of course, I knew what I had to do, so mustering all the courage I could find, I sent him an e-mail with the million-dollar question: did he want to be in the video? Surprisingly, he answered yes to this too! Now, I channeled all my Jewish chutzpah to ask him the even more daunting question: we had no money to pay him, nor did we have it in our budget to even fund his air ticket from New York. Would he and could he still do the project? He responded in a one-line e-mail that haunts me to this day: "If you build it, he will come."