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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Dikhou was not free. He was hopelessly behind on his studies and had planned to finish a significant topic that evening, but when Banhi said "Jun is going to town to get something but he's directionally challenged so would you go with him? Only if you're free!" he immediately said, "Sure, I'm free." This would've made him feel stupid if it didn't terrify him.
Junak was too much. His whole damn being. It had been around ten days since he got here and all Dikhou had done during those days was think about things he should not be thinking about. Things he did not like thinking about. Things that he thought he had buried several feet under for good.
Dikhou blamed most of it on Junak's smile. There was some childlike wonder in it – the way his eyes would light up – and the curl of those lips over his teeth was beautiful. Junak would also absently hum sometimes whenever he was too engrossed in some work – by work, it mostly involved cutting vegetables or peeling oranges or standing long hours with his camera pointed at a seemingly barren strip of land.
Dikhou did not understand many things about Junak, including why and how he was so impossibly endearing.
"Where are you going?" Kopili asked, stopping Dikhou in his steps. "And why do you have a weird look on your face?" She was standing in the backyard, hanging clothes on a line.
"What weird look?"
Kopili studied her brother for a second, then shrugged and said, "Eh. It's just your face."
Dikhou scowled at her. He turned to leave when she asked him where he was headed. "Out," he said, feeling like a liar.
His mother had explicitly asked him to stay away from the newcomers, which clearly, he did not follow through. Every day since then he expected her to bring it up again and reprimand him but she simply seemed to turn a blind eye at it.
Dikhou was not sure how to feel about it.
"Out where?"
Dikhou rolled his eyes. "To find you a husband, maybe. God knows that'll be hard."
Kopili snapped a wet sador at him, sprinkling him with water. "I hate you."
"Back at you!"
As Dikhou made his way towards Baruah koka's house, he subconsciously touched his face, wondering if he did indeed look weird.
He suddenly wished he had shampooed his hair that morning, then scolded himself for being so self-conscious. Caring about his looks was something he never bothered with before and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now.
Definitely not.
Yeah.
He still raised a hand to his head, trying to tame the messy mop of hair. It didn't help so he groaned and let it be.
