Besabriyaan

Chapter 54

There is something a little different about this story of which I always am in the middle; something I cannot quite figure out. Like every great story, we had our map that led us from the start to where we are now. A story, this story, seemed so simple starting from a fangirl flying to the city of dreams and working for her favourite celebrity; a story of obsession, of craving for some kind of perfection in this imperfect world. A story of madness. When it all started with a girl asking the rickshaw driver to show her the mansion of her favourite person was like an ivory canvas with swirling shades of rainbow and who knew that when the leaves would dry and fall, the same canvas would turn to shades of gray. Or, even black.

Upon the primrose sand, I watched as topaz sunbursts of light smashed against the calming blue of the sea. Hypnotised by the languid flowing of the tide, the golden medallion of the sun was perched high in the sky. The wind whipped around me letting my hair loose, tousled and tangled. An unmistakable aroma of salt set me transfixed not knowing what to make out of the vision which was no less than a vintage photograph. Beyond the Australian Opera House, national parks and harbour bridges, Melbourne was also a magnificent mess of dreams. A breathtaking, marvellous, almost frightening dream that made me feel like some kind of living thing. And, wherever my eyes stretched out, they were awed as if someone had taken a handful of crayons and thrown it as far as the eye could see and it was beautiful. Here, not only the people were different with their different patterns of living, the country offered lot more than natural wonders and unbiasedness.

Rolling my eyes up at the sky, I watched how the clouds were finding their way to each other but not too long after, I also noticed how they floated away from one another. It reminded me of life. My life; how people come and go. Everything is nothing but a temporary moment and thinking so, my sore eyes gently descended near to the waves where at a distant, ahead of me, stood the man who was still a treat to my sore eyes. I won't deny that my heart was skinned- raw, the last time he whispered that goodbye but no matter how many goodbyes we pronounce, this story has become like a ghost story. Unbelievably impactful and hauntingly lingering around my mind.

Manik stood facing the sea and I failed to fathom if he was the calm before the storm or after it because he was unbelievably not his usual obsessive, entitled and devious self. He was that calm man I never met and wondered if he knew himself as well. Occasionally, he would lift his head up at the sky looking at the freely flying bird and I believed part of him wished if he could be that free, like that bird. His eyes ached for freedom; perhaps from his own mind but the clenched fists in the pockets of his trousers told a tale of how the sand and the crashing waves had him tied to reality. Maybe, he could use some sleep. Or, maybe he needed lot more than a long peaceful sleep.

Something was and was not there between us and something just went on and went away. Something I could explain to nobody, not even to him and that's why, like a century old statue, I stood there being the stupid, numb girl that I was becoming day by day and the girl he was allowing me to become.

"Cut! Nandini, you are coming in the frame!" As Aryaman snapped at me, I tossed back to reality processing all the curious eyes at me.

With a quick apology, I swiftly moved aside and reminded myself of how much the reality was inevitable. Manik heard my name being yelled too but he didn't turn around, either because he was embarrassed from our last encounter or he really drew some line with that goodbye and I was back to being invisible who stood outside the frame and, his life. But to me, right from the start, Manik was the beginning and Manik was also the end but now, life brought me to the zone where Manik symbolised nothingness to me.

After the Director made sure every little thing was in order, he yelled an action and like a perfect lyrics of a song, a young lady in a white dress made out of the froth of the waves slowly appeared in the frame. Starting from her smallest waistline to her cloudy strands, from that walk of a goddess to lips that kissed fresh cherries, she looked divine. Maybe, casting a newbie opposite Manik was a risky choice after Avani's contract was terminated when she threw a fit on set about something nobody remembers but Manik was more than confident in this newcomer when he personally selected her in an audition participated by at least, two hundred females. He was certain that Farah was the perfect choice and everyone seemed to like her on set except Aryaman, for reasons unknown.