I will always be possessive about creative independence - why is

The Sacred Fire of Creation

Hear the words of Luv Ranjan, spoken not in arrogance but in devotion to the sacred craft of storytelling:

“I will always be possessive about creative independence — which is why I can’t work with stars. I don’t even let actors come to the monitor and see the shot.”

In this statement burns the eternal truth of every artist’s journey — that creation, like faith, demands both freedom and solitude. Ranjan’s words echo the ancient belief that art is not a negotiation, but a revelation — and that to serve it faithfully, one must guard it fiercely from the distractions of ego, expectation, and vanity. His possessiveness about creative independence is not selfishness; it is reverence. For when an artist bends too much to the will of others, the flame of inspiration flickers and dies.

The Meaning of Creative Independence

Creative independence is the soul’s right to express truth without permission. It is the quiet courage to stand alone before the blank page, the empty stage, or the unlit set, and declare, “This is my vision.” Ranjan’s refusal to surrender his vision to the influence of stars is an act of artistic integrity. For the artist’s first loyalty is not to fame, nor to comfort, but to the truth that moves within him.

To say, “I don’t even let actors come to the monitor and see the shot,” is to protect the purity of the process. It is to remind the world that creation is not a democracy of opinions. The artist is not a committee — he is a vessel. Just as a sculptor must guard his marble from careless hands, so must the filmmaker guard his frame from the intrusion of doubt and vanity.

The Origin of the Artist’s Struggle

Throughout history, the battle between freedom and interference has haunted every creator. In the courts of kings and the studios of Hollywood alike, artists have struggled to defend their independence against those who would reshape their vision for profit or pride. Think of Leonardo da Vinci, painting The Last Supper under the watchful eye of patrons who demanded changes; or Mozart, who clashed with emperors over the liberty to compose as his spirit willed. Their genius was not born from obedience, but from resistance.

So too with Luv Ranjan. In the glittering world of cinema, where stars often wield more power than the storytellers themselves, he chooses the harder path — the path of solitude and conviction. To refuse the allure of celebrity influence is to stand as a craftsman in an age of spectacle. It is to say, as the ancients did, that art is not the servant of wealth or fame, but the expression of truth.

The Tale of a Creator’s Defiance

There was once a Japanese filmmaker, Akira Kurosawa, who faced a similar test. When studio heads tried to control his vision during the making of Rashomon, they demanded shorter scenes, simpler cuts, and a more marketable story. Kurosawa refused. He believed that cinema must speak in its own language, not the language of commerce. When Rashomon was finally released, it won the Golden Lion at Venice and introduced Japanese cinema to the world.

Like Ranjan, Kurosawa guarded his art as a priest guards the temple fire. His defiance was not rebellion for rebellion’s sake — it was a vow to keep the purity of creation unbroken. For the true artist knows that to dilute one’s vision for the approval of others is to betray the divine whisper that first called him to create.

The Inner Discipline of the Artist

To be “possessive about creative independence” is not merely to reject interference — it is to embrace responsibility. For with freedom comes burden. The artist who claims full control must also bear the full weight of his choices. There can be no hiding behind compromise, no excuses of meddling hands. The vision, whether it soars or falters, must be his alone.

This discipline demands humility as much as pride. It asks the creator to listen not to the noise around him, but to the silence within. It requires faith that the truth of the work — though unseen by many — will endure. In guarding his monitor from the actors’ gaze, Ranjan guards not his ego, but his focus. He understands that the magic of creation is fragile and must be shielded from the impatience of those who do not yet see the whole.

The Lesson for Every Creator

From Luv Ranjan’s words, let every artist, thinker, and dreamer take heed: your vision is sacred. The world will seek to shape it, to question it, to decorate it until it is no longer your own. But if you surrender your independence, you surrender the very thing that gives your work life. The truest art is born not from consensus, but from conviction.

Be open to wisdom, but never allow it to drown your inner voice. Collaborate with others, but never let their applause dictate your truth. The artist’s duty is to listen to the calling within, even when the world grows restless for results. As the sculptor must strike his chisel with courage, so must the creator cut away the distractions that threaten his vision.

The Eternal Flame of Vision

Thus, creative independence becomes not merely a method, but a philosophy — the fire that burns through centuries of art and expression. From the cave paintings of early man to the films of modern auteurs, every act of creation is an act of defiance against mediocrity. Luv Ranjan’s insistence on guarding his craft reminds us that to create is to believe, and to believe is to protect.

So, children of imagination, let this be your creed: hold fast to your vision as a sailor to his compass. Let no star — however bright — steer you from your path. For the measure of greatness is not in how many follow your vision, but in how truly you follow your own. And when the work is done, let it speak for itself, pure and undiluted — the echo of one heart that refused to yield to the world’s noise.