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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Junak had dyed his hair. Again. It was still the fierce black, but it was slightly longer, messier and the ends were coloured a deep red that looked amazing on him. He had gotten glasses too, round wire frames that looked both hot and adorable on him.
On his latest Instagram picture, posted one day ago, location marked as Utah, USA, he was in what looked like a film set. The sky was a bright shade of blue, with red hills in the background. It was a group selfie, with four other people, none of whom Dikhou recognised. The caption read: needed a hug, these dorks volunteered.
It had been months since Dikhou last texted him but he looked happy, there, on his home turf and for that Dikhou was glad. Junak graduated two months ago, according to his Instagram, and since then, he had been posting pictures from different locations in America and Europe. None of his works was on any social media platforms so Dikhou had no idea what he was doing but he was proud nonetheless. And happy.
And sad too, but he did not want to dwell on that.
He stared at Junak's smiling face for a long, long time, until his mother called him from the other room.
He promptly exited the app, pocketed his phone and walked into the dining room.
His mother was sitting at the head of the table, reading the day's newspaper. Lohor sat beside her, reading one of those Percy Jackson books he had begged Dikhou to buy him.
"Dikhou, come look at this." His mother put down the newspaper and passed it towards him.
He took the empty seat to her right and peered into the black and white sea of letters. He found himself staring at the page on job vacancies. "What?"
His mother tapped a finger on one advertisement. "Apply for this."
He squinted, then frowned. It was a high paying job in... Delhi. He pushed the newspaper back towards his mother. "It's in Delhi, Ma."
"I know. I can read."
Dikhou gawked. "You want me to apply for a job in Delhi?"
"Yes."
Dikhou wondered if he was dreaming. He glanced at Lohor, as if that was somehow going to help, but the latter was too engrossed in his book. So he just said, "But it's in Delhi."
"Oof, just apply, no!" his mother cried. "You're acting like I've handed you the appointment letter. Applying doesn't necessarily mean you'll get it; there are several rounds of tests and interviews. You're anyway studying, so give this a try. For experience."
Dikhou stared at his mother. His mind wandered back to a memory from long ago, of Junak asking him to leave the village and go with him. Dikhou knew he had made the right choice by saying no but the consequences of it continued to ruthlessly tug at his heart. Staying here in the village, seeing the men who had hurt Junak walking about like they were innocent, interacting with the people who would do the same to him if they ever found out, was difficult but he gulped it down and trudged along day after day because what else could he do?
His hand shook as he picked up the newspaper and said, "I'll give it a try. But only because you're saying so."
