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 wasn't sure what to expect after coming out to his family because he had never, not even in his wildest dreams, expected to be out. But this. This was good.
Kopili had grinned at him. "I think you've become a little more tolerable now," she said, then added, "Wait, will you want to borrow my clothes or something, now?"
"What? That's not - no. I don't want your clothes."
And Jiri... well, she had hugged Dikhou and cried and apologised and cried. "I was just trying to protect you."
"I know, Jiri-ba." And he really did. Knowing the people in his village, he was glad of her protection.
"You'll still have to be careful though," she added.
Dikhou nodded, trying to not think about Junak.
It was a futile attempt because all he did was think about Junak. Throughout the day. He felt cold lying on the bed alone, felt lonely not spending the day with him near the river, missed his bickering as he sat for lunch. Junak's memories were everywhere, and his absence was like a living entity.
"Are you and Junak fighting?" Baruah koka asked one day when Dikhou went to relieve Jatin of his shift for the evening. Junak had been there in the morning, leaving behind a messy doodle on the notepad kept on the nightstand. Dikhou absently ran his fingers over it.
"Don't be like Junak," Baruah koka said. He recovered from the surgery but it had left him weak. He was wobbly on his limbs and the doctors instructed him to be there for at least a week, but he was okay. He would be okay. "Tell me what's going on."
Dikhou sat on the chair beside the bed. "You asked Junak about it?"
The old man nodded.
"What did he say?" Knowing Junak, he must've smiled and said everything was okay.
"He smiled and said everything's fine, koka, you don't have to worry about it."
Dikhou's chest hurt.
"Will you give me an honest answer, Dikhou?"
Dikhou looked away. "Just a small argument, koka. It's nothing serious."
Grandpa sighed. "He's a good kid, you know?"
"I know."
"Very sensitive." He chuckled. "Gets that from his father. The manners, though, are from his mother. Niyor couldn't be polite if you paid him for it. That's why he needed your father, to keep him grounded."
Dikhou stared at the old man, expecting him to say more but he just looked away at the distance with a sad smile on his lips. Dikhou wondered what he saw, then decided it was better to not know.
He had enough to carry on his own.
***
It was on the third day since the incident with the villagers that Junak, Niribili and Banhi started filming. On Baruah koka's front lawn. Early in the morning, the three of them hassled around the place, setting up cameras, microphones, tripods, lights and reflectors.
