Junak Baruah wants to win the prestigious short film competition in his university. But with hundreds of participants and a stellar jury on board, winning means making a film that's never been made before.
And that means breaking the rules and taki...
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"Did I not accept your Facebook friend request or something?"
Dikhou frowned, shooting Junak a questioning look. Despite that, the annoying smirk did not leave his lips.
Junak shrugged. "You don't like me, so clearly I must've done something to offend you."
Dikhou did not reply, simply kept staring.
It made Junak uncomfortable, not knowing what was going on in that jerk's head. "I don't know what I could've possibly done, though, because I don't even remember interacting with you before."
Dikhou scoffed and looked away. "No, I never sent you any Facebook friend request."
It was Junak's turn to frown. Here he was, trying to soothe whatever tension existed between them but Dikhou was being so... annoyingly impossible.
Junak shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and said nothing after that. The two were walking through narrow paths winding their way through the village. There were small houses - some made of bricks and cement, others made of bamboo and mud - on either side, bamboo fences demarcating the lands. They all had large front yards and even larger backyards, some with ponds of their own. Ducks, hens roamed about. Men in dhotis and women in mekhela sador were out and about, doing their daily chores.
Amidst all that, Junak, in his pink hoodie, black skinny jeans and boots, stuck out like a sore thumb. It almost made him anxious. What if these people found out what he and his friends were here to do?
Bihu was the crown jewel of their culture. It had its own rules and reverence. There were clearly demarcated gender norms too - the song, dance, musical instruments performed by men and women were different and separate. There was also the inherent patriarchy and sexism - the men teased the women who got shy and walked away. Marriage norms, family, respect for elders were the core values. All of it being highly heteronormative, of course.
So what Junak was about to do... would change everything.
"The market sits here," Dikhou said out of the blue. "On Mondays."
Junak nodded, looking around. There were standing on a large patch of barren land, with a few open sheds littered around in the edges. "What if you need to buy stuff on... Wednesday?"
Dikhou chuckled lightly. It sounded more like a snort. "Most of the food can be found in our backyards. If you're in dire need on Wednesday, there's a small retail store in the village square that keeps stock of most essentials. Or, you just head over to the nearest town, around ten kilometres away."
Junak nodded again, making a mental note to come here again on Monday, to hopefully get some material to film.
"Come on." Dikhou skipped up the road. "Have you ever-"
"Dikhou!"
A couple of metres away, where the path forked, three guys were sitting on a bench made of tree stumps, smoking. One of them raised a hand at Dikhou, beckoning him over.
