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MUKTI vs MAIRA 22.2
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Ram Gopal Varma - Dhurandhar Vs Toxic
We did miss you darling, immensely!
What struck me was that Arnav, who is at his anguished worst at this point – his prayers, if they can be termed that, include the well being of Lavanya and Payal as well. He is also aware of the many people who depend on him for their livelihood. Most people fail to see anything beyond their own misery at times like these, and this man – his sorrow is as personal as it is collective. His world is crashing down, one thing at a time, and he is getting sucked into that vortex of – what I first thought was something akin to numbness. But I don't think that's what it is – he wouldn't be in so much pain if that were the case. Perhaps its just pure, raw, sorrow.
Wonder what will come of all this. I just… wish he finds some peace.
She went about her day with the perpetual mind numbing ache which settled in her bones. It had been four months since Arnav decided to leave the heat of reality. When the calendar flipped to the third month mark, a dull fear had settled inside her stomach – churning, twisting her gut as the thought settled; Arnav had gone longer than he intended to. She had called Suman immediately and got no reassurance. Suman was the only person Arnav was in touch with; he couldn't let his responsibilities shatter and bring down his business single handed.
"He is not going to come back just yet Khushi," Suman said haltingly. She knew the distress the news would cause the young woman on the other end of the phone but it was the truth.
"Did he say why?" She heard Khushi ask hoarsely. She sighed. The entire thing from her perspective was now borderline stupid. She believed in confronting head on with lot of yelling, screaming, scratching and bouts of anger filled silence and she would do all of it with the other person in front of her. But then again, Arnav and Khushi never had the vanilla relationship which most people did. Everyone believed that their relationship was different and unique but she could easily categorize and label them with high accuracy. No, people who were truly different did everything possible to hide their obscurity and put up a facade of being…well, normal. Arnav and Khushi were one of them.
"He didn't say much about the subject Khushi. He just said he didn't want to come back yet and..." Suman replied.
"…and?" Khushi trailed.
Suman sighed. "And that he isn't ready yet," she finished.
Khushi sighed. Suman didn't know what was going through her as Khushi hung up mumbling a good-bye.
Khushi looked at her cell phone lost in her thoughts and didn't notice Lavanya standing in doorway.
"Is everything alright?" Lavanya asked walking inside empty classroom in her orphanage. Khushi was sitting behind desk in front of laptop; she was searching for inspiration which could transform into idea to keep the children occupied through the summer. The children had no place to go and it was extra difficult for the orphanage to manage them given how bouts of boredom would them often and even the teachers had to be creative enough to keep boredom at bay.
"Arnav isn't coming back anytime soon," Khushi said softly. She looked up from cell phone and saw Lavanya. "It's just…"
"He hasn't abandoned you, you know? He is just taking a break." Unlike you. Khushi could hear the unsaid words dancing in Lavanya's eyes. But Lavanya was kind enough to let her be. She nodded at her friend.
"Yeah, I suppose so." Khushi replied enigmatically.
Lavanya bristled as she remembered the reason for stopping by. "I came here to ask you a favour actually," she said twiddling her thumbs.
"Anything," Khushi said immediately. Lavanya's eyes softened at that. That's how Khushi always responded whenever she asked her a favor. She had several times wondered if Khushi replied with the same word had she asked for Arnav.
"I know this philanthropist, Aman, who comes from sort of a royal family but oddly enough has greatest reluctance towards social interaction. He is irritatingly introverted and reluctant host but has heart in good place. He was looking for someone like you to help people in his village and its surroundings." Lavanya said in one breath.
"When can I meet him?" Khushi asked feeling comfortable immediately. She was wondering when she could start what she really loved the most and the opportunity had come crashing doors.
"He is in town for this week and you can meet him at his residence." Lavanya said, ready to go back. "And…Khushi?" She said stopping mid-step. Khushi looked at her, waiting. "Take Payal with you, okay?" Lavanya said with a hint of smile.
A smile spread across Khushi's face. "Am I missing something?" She asked.
"Aman is an incredibly quiet guy. But when he is around Payal, he doesn't gauge his words or filter them unnecessarily. You can see the passion he has for upliftment of his people when he speaks with her." Lavanya said, eyes sparkling.
"Thanks for telling me Lavanya." Khushi said hit by a fresh wave of dejection. "Payal never told me about that."
Lavanya chuckled. "Chin up Khushi. Payal hasn't even noticed it yet let alone tell you about hm." Khushi breathed easily after that. Lavanya saw that Khushi was staring at an obscure spot on the wall with a faraway look on her face.
"What is it Khushi?" She asked knowing that a memory was unfurling in her mind.
"I was traveling in this village in central Africa and with our regular crew we had a French photographer. He took photos of people struggling to find water and displayed them in a charity exhibition. The money he made from sales of those photographs was used for funding of our projects. The entire arrangement was odd for me. When I asked him, his answer was simple: You have to glorify one's suffering to get the attention they deserve. He did say that there were many who purchased his photographs because he was a Pulitzer award winner and it added to their social status when they had one of his photographs hanging by the fireplace. He didn't care for the pretentiousness of people who donated but was glad that their fake sense of humanity in the end did morph into something incredibly humane after all. The irony was so poignant and hauntingly beautiful." Khushi's eyes were moist.
"Isn't it in nature of humans to glorify our sufferings for the psychological benefit?" Lavanya said softly. Khushi whipped her head towards her friend and looked…appalled. "I meant…" Lavanya stopped.
"What you mean is: I have talked about my past with you, Arnav, everyone and have said on many occasions I wasn't happy and was a borderline mental case. And I narrated all that because I could push all of you towards a ledge where the only way to move forward was to take my hand. This way I got you all listening to me and sympathizing with me as I successfully managed to justify my suffering." Khushi explained anger lacing her voice. Lavanya stared at her friend for several moments.
"Well, I was talking about how a similar tactic is used by most of us who want to contribute to the society by helping those who have been ignored by the mainstream but if you are in for a bitchy mood then go ahead and lash out all your repressed anger against Arnav or me." Lavanya said narrowing her eyes. Khushi swallowed and tears sprung in her eyes.
"I am sorry La," she whispered. "I…am…really sorry." She repeated.
"It's alright Khushi. He will be back, give him time." Lavanya said hugging her best friend.
She was surprised when Khushi hugged her tightly and sobbed on her shoulder. "I am so scared La," she got the words out with great difficulty.
Lavanya pulled back and took Khushi's face in her hands. "Trust me Khushi. Arnav will come back. Don't be scared." She said smiling a little at her friend.
"I know he will come back La but I am not sure if he would be the man he once was." Lavanya looked at her, lost.
"I am not sure if he would want me anymore." Khushi closed her eyes and collapsed on the chair, her deepest fear finally transitioning to words of woe.
I was catching up with Family Guy [cartoon show] and I heard the below:
Am I falling or am I flying
Am I living or am I dead
Oh great spirit!
Free me from the bonds of Gravity and criticism.
---- Peter Griffin, Family Guy
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