The Filmmaker's Dream

Chapter 1 - A strange visitor

"I am not a thief. I agree I look like one. But you have to trust me. I didn't steal anything from your house. In fact I didn't steal anything in the past five years. No, seven years actually. Stealing a friend's chocolate when she's not looking doesn't count. Right? So, seven years." Shubha started rambling.

Before Vikram could say something, she continued, "Actually I don't blame your maid for alerting you. Don't scold her. I mean look at me. Old clothes, torn shoes and weather-beaten face. It's not her fault. Anyone in her place would have thought I am a burglar. I know everything about my appearance is unwelcome at a place like this. But don't judge a book by it's cover. I am a respectable scientist. I mean I was a scientist. I came here because I was invited by your mother."

Vikram opened his mouth again to speak. But she didn't let him speak. "Sir, please don't call the police. I don't want to get arrested--"

"You forgot something" said Vikram, interrupting her.

"What is it sir?"

"Breathing." He answered.

"Sorry?"

"It has been several minutes since you started talking. Your throat must be sore. Drink some water." He looked at his maid, who brought a glass of water. "Here. Take this."

"Sir, my mother forbade me from accepting food and drinks from strangers."

Vikram stared at her without blinking. "Look, I'm not a kidnapper, if that's what you are thinking."

"Of course you are not. I am thirsty. So, I think I will accept this." She took the glass from him and gulped down the water.

"Now tell me. Why are you here? No. Wait. Calm down. Take a deep breath before speaking." He instructed her.

She closed her eyes and took and deep breath. Her nervousness seemed to vanish. "I am sorry for rambling sir. It's just that I never met a film star before."

"It's okay. Did you say my mother called you?"

"Yes sir. I heard that she is collecting your father's old photographs. I have an old album of his various school plays. My father was his classmate. I got your mother's phone number somehow and called her." She showed him the album.

He looked at the photographs of his late father. A smile crept across his face after several days. "He looked so handsome." He remarked. 

"Yes. He did" said Shubha. She looked at Vikram, who lost his father three weeks ago. He wasn't even allowed to mourn peacefully. The media disturbed him throughout the funeral.  She felt sorry for him.

"May I know your name?" He asked her.

"Shubha. Shubha Narayan."

"Thank you so much Ms. Shubha. Could you please wait until my mother wakes up? Please. I will make arrangements to drop you home." He requested very politely, hoping she won't refuse. "Or wait until I scan the pictures and save it in my phone."

"You can keep the album sir."

"No. How can I keep this? You have so many memories of your father in this album." 

"It doesn't matter now sir." She answered. 

He detected pain in her voice. Before he could ask her what she meant, he heard his mother's voice. "Vicky? Who are you talking to? Your friend?" Latha asked him.

"Hello ma'am. I am Shubha. I called you this evening."

"Hello Shubha. How are you?"

"I am good. I brought the album."