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 [no new messages]
"Dikhou!"
Dikhou looked up from the phone to see Kalita, the principal of the local middle school, standing at their gate, grinning at him. He was wearing a pale kurta, and with the sling bag on his shoulder, Dikhou could tell he was on his way to the school – two hours late. "All good, khura?"
"Ah yes, yes." The man leaned on the gate. "Not going to work today?"
"No, khura, I have an off."
"Off for no reason? You kids have it too easy these days."
Dikhou pursed his lips but kept up his polite smile.
"Speaking of which, what are your plans now, young man? With both your sisters married, it's now your turn, eh?"
The breakfast from earlier turned bitter and heavy in Dikhou's stomach. He gritted his teeth and said, "Not thinking about marriage right now, khura."
"Ah yes, yes, young people nowadays. But still. You should keep an eye out or all the good girls will be taken."
"Right."
"I was talking to Gagori's father the other day. About you. She's a nice girl."
Dikhou did not say anything. Last he heard, she was dating a man from the nearby town but her parents did not know about it because of the obvious uproar it would cause.
"And you two are friends, aren't you? That's a plus."
Dikhou felt physically incapable of surviving this conversation. He glanced over his shoulder but his mother was somewhere inside the house, leaving him completely defenceless.
"If you give me the go, I can properly talk to her father, you know, about the two of you."
"I'm not... looking to get married right now, khura."
The man nodded. "I get it, I get it. But you're not young forever, so do keep that in mind." He tapped his temple.
"Right..."
For whatever reason, the man laughed. "Anyway. I'll get going. Drop by at my house one of these days when you're free, yeah?"
And have more of this wretched conversation? Hard pass. "I will, khura."
He watched the man leave, feeling sick to his bones. Kalita was not the first one he'd had this conversation with and he certainly would not be the last. Maybe the old Dikhou could have suppressed his emotions deep within and pretended to be okay, but it felt like a tremendous chore to him now. He did not want to do this, the hiding, the silent submission to whatever the people around him said and believed.
He wanted to say sure khura, find me a guy if you're so eager to attend my wedding.
He could not, obviously. Just because his mother was tough and he had his sisters on his side did not mean he or his family was safe. At the end of the day, he was utterly helpless to do anything but hide and silently submit.
With a hand pressed to his temple, Dikhou looked down at his phone again.
![JUNAK[no new messages]](https://img.wattpad.com/83d29aa26deae7dc14bc57c200f00c7c92a6e9c4/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4e79666f596a53446673674f41773d3d2d313134373432363036312e313662323330653965326438326362333332313839383138353339362e6a7067?s=fit&w=720&h=720)
