From & To Sathish #6 - Page 26

When will a Kannada character

be featured in a Bollywood movie?

By Shoba Narayan, Hindustan Times, October 30, 2023

When I saw Rocky Rani…Kahani, the thought occurred: when will a Kannadiga character populate a mainstream Bollywood movie? Rocky Rani has the Bengali Chatterjees. Chennai Express has Tamilians. Why are there no Kannadiga characters in mainstream movies? Is it because they don’t inspire the popular imagination? Is it because they don’t have strong traits that can be caricatured like the “intellectual Bengalis” or the “flashy Punjabis”? What are the signature traits of the Kannadigas?

There are two, and neither will help with getting us into Bollywood. Ask the outsiders who have populated Bangalore about Kannadigas and a few adjectives come out. One is that Kannadigas have a “softness” to them. They are gentle, genteel, civilised. How to portray this in a Bollywood potboiler? But politeness is not the only trait that marks Kannadigas or Bangaloreans. What is interesting is that two of Instagram’s most popular comics are based in this city: Ayyo Shraddha and Danish Sait. Both portray layered aspects of life in Bangalore. They are snarky, sarcastic, rude, jumpy, silly and more. Why are these qualities not capturing the imagination of popular and mainstream cinema?

In general, Karnataka is not good at marketing. The world knows Kanjivaram sarees but who has heard of Molkalmuru silks from our state? This state is at the crossroads of Hindustani and Carnatic music but somehow the world associates Chennai with music. Some part of our poor marketing has to do with branding. Most people associate places or products with just one or at most two adjectives. Bangalore, and for that matter, Karnataka, perhaps has too many layers. Our state slogan: “One State Many Worlds,” is both accurate and confusing because it does not tell us what those “worlds” are. In contrast, Kerala’s “God’s Own Country” branding evokes poetic visuals in our minds. Cities too need a strong personality for them to stand out, like Mumbai did in the Munna Bhai movies. We Bangaloreans may think that our city has a strong personality but clearly, Bollywood doesn’t know what that is.

Of course, this brings up the whole question of whether you would want a Kannadiga character in a Bollywood film. As my intellectual (naturally) Bengali friend said, “Bollywood reduces characters to caricatures. Why would you wish for that?” Because it is a marker of having arrived in the national conscious—just like India bidding for the 2036 Olympics is a measure of the nation’s confidence, its belief of having arrived on the global scene.

In Bangalore, the tech, IT and start-up worlds take up all the air space. There is little room for much else. You would think that a Bollywood film with edgy, crazy, twisted characters that are creating a start-up would make for lots of drama (back-stabbing, name-dropping, insecure egos, betrayal, it’s all there) but that hasn’t happened. The closest we have come to is in the stand-up comedy world where Bangalore has been the runway for many including “Pushpavalli,” “Ayyo Shradda” and Danish Sait.

So what will it take for Bangalore to catch the national imagination? First of all, Bangaloreans have to make it to the top of creative industries. The reason so many Bollywood movies are based on Punjabi families is because many of the film producers are from that state. Many of the music conductors are from Bengal. Producers talk to musicians and creative cross pollination happens. A character is born. Bangaloreans are mostly in IT, not Bollywood. This is not a value judgement. Economic prosperity comes before the thriving of culture. Tokyo became a financial powerhouse in the 80s before it became known globally for fashion brands like Sacai, designers like Takashi Murakami and Yayoi Kusuma.

I believe that this is the inflection point for Bangalore to take off in areas that go beyond tech. Museums are being built in our city. Lots of books based on Bangalore are being published. It is sad that one of the slick podcasts that is made in Bangalore is “WTF with Nikhil Kamath,” where he talks in an echo chamber made up of his buddies who are all in—no surprise there—tech.

The soft power that comes from Korean television serials, its music and fashion is a long way off for Bangalore because like it or not, we are still a city with a programming, engineering mindset that values dot.coms more than connecting the dots in a creative imaginative fashion. Cultural cross pollination can only happen if culture is celebrated, which it is not in Bangalore. Until that happens, Bangalore will still be stuck in a linear mindset that is about dollars and cents rather than larger than life personalities who capture the popular imagination.

Shoba Narayan is Bangalore-based award-winning author. She is also a freelance contributor who writes about art, food, fashion and travel for a number of publications.

https://youtu.be/T5s1t2vCa6o?si=MxBvEKtk7_Yaao_Y

Everyone has a story to tell. Everyone is a writer, some are written in books and some are confined to hearts. People need stories. Stories of love, hope, survival, wisdom and sometimes pain. Maybe you don’t tell them the full truth; maybe you tell them lies. But what is this world? A lie in itself. Every day, I woke up; I tried to find reasons to live. Every night, when I slept, I tried to find reasons to not die. Every moment, I tried to find reasons to hope, dream and love. Savi Sharma

I am sleeping less every night but I find myself more productive every passing day. Even when I shut my eyes and slip under the sheet of my bed to slumber like a log of timber, my brain is working and doing its best to conjure new thoughts, lines and arcs for the next chapter of my story or the much ado about nothing posts that I share with all of you.

My head, heart and body are in full swing in the days when I am working and in front of the camera. My day starts with me spending the first hours in writing and once that is done it is off to the gym or for a long walk peppered with short bursts of intense running. Then it is back home, shower, pack and off to work. Then back home late in the night and back into bed and into dream space by 10.00 pm or 10.30 pm.

All this intense activity involving both mind and body was taxing and cumbersome until a few years ago. Something changed. Nothing changed in the activity but for the connectivity.

Yes. I connected my writing, exercise, and acting work to one power source which was a mixture of passion and acceptance and topped it with time.

I found myself acting out my characters while I wrote my stories penning down my thoughts and creating new ways to look at life and other lives and vice versa I found myself writing while I was acting out my character in front of the camera for the TV series Baakiayalakshmi. I was not aware of what I had done to myself or rather what my mind had done to itself by hitting upon this new connection through which it had synced all my thoughts, needs, pain and joy.

The days are falling leaves and off late even months and years are that. Remember that moment when you were seated on a train with your face stuck to the window hearing a train coming towards you? Remember that noise that gets louder and louder and then with a thunderous noise it screams, screeches and wails past you and soon it is just a speck of a whisper in the distance and soon a distant memory even.

I find time, days, months and the passing years passing by like those high-speed trains rushing past us.

Just now, it was January and it is already November 1st and Diwali is just around the corner and then it is Christmas and NEW YEAR. 2024.

whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? A new year already? Yes.

The days are falling leaves and the months and years are passing trains and passing us at high speed. Here now. Gone the next moment.

Well, coming back to the story titled " Avan Aval Adhu " I am approaching the climax of the story and will most probably be done by the end of November.

Climax. End. What do they mean by these words?

Is death just the beginning? The really interesting thing is that no matter what you believe, death is not the beginning or the end. It is a transition in which energy passes from one vehicle into something else. There is a law in chemistry called "The law of conservation of energy." This means energy cannot be lost.

In the same way, the end of a story is but a beginning for the next one in which I hope to write with more experience, having learnt more about myself and the world around me.

I have learnt to see life and the time that I have been given not as an hourglass sand timer that Nature tilted the moment she created me but more as a tree of life.

Every leaf, every moment, every branch and every month is meant for life and meant to live.

This is, my own version of the process, called photosynthesis in my own world, that I have created, in which I am my own tree of life.

The days are falling leaves and fading seasons of good, bad and worse. But, I as my own tree in my own garden am trying to bud, bloom, flower and fruit and yes, to shade, shelter and...... dare I say doing my best with my time.

An old man meets a young man who asks:

“Do you remember me?”

And the old man says no. Then the young man tells him he was his student, And the teacher asks:

“What do you do, what do you do in life?”

The young man answers:

“Well, I became a teacher.”

“ah, how good, like me?” Asks the old man.

“Well, yes. In fact, I became a teacher because you inspired me to be like you.”

The old man, curious, asks the young man at what time he decided to become a teacher. And the young man tells him the following story:

“One day, a friend of mine, also a student, came in with a nice new watch, and I decided I wanted it.
I stole it, I took it out of his pocket.

Shortly after, my friend noticed his watch was missing and immediately complained to our teacher, who was you.

Then you addressed the class saying, ‘This student's watch was stolen during classes today. Whoever stole it, please return it.’

I didn't give it back because I didn't want to.

You closed the door and told us all to stand up and form a circle.
You were going to search our pockets one by one until the watch was found.
However, you told us to close our eyes, because you would only look for his watch if we all had our eyes closed.

We did as instructed.
You went from pocket to pocket, and when you went through my pocket, you found the watch and took it. You kept searching everyone's pockets, and when you were done you said ‘open your eyes. We have the watch.’

You didn't tell on me and you never mentioned the episode. You never said who stole the watch either. That day you saved my dignity forever. It was the most shameful day of my life.

But this is also the day I decided not to become a thief, a bad person, etc. You never said anything, nor did you even scold me or take me aside to give me a moral lesson.

I received your message clearly.
Thanks to you, I understood what a real educator needs to do.

Do you remember this episode, professor?

The old professor answered, ‘Yes, I remember the situation with the stolen watch, which I was looking for in everyone’s pocket. I didn't remember you, because I also closed my eyes while looking.’

This is the essence of teaching:
If to correct you must humiliate; you don't know how to teach "


• 
  
  

Avan, Aval Adhu 500

Bridge The Oxford English Dictionary traces the origin of the word bridge to an Old English word brycg, of the same meaning.

A bridge is a structure built to span a physical obstacle (such as a body of water, valley, road, or railway) without blocking the way underneath. It is constructed for the purpose of providing passage over the obstacle, which is usually something that is otherwise difficult or impossible to cross.

The earliest bridges were likely made with fallen trees and stepping stones. The Neolithic people built boardwalk bridges across marshland. The Arkadiko Bridge (dating from the 13th century BC, in the Peloponnese) is one of the oldest arch bridges still in existence and use.

“Some people say about human beings, 'Dust to dust'.

But how can that be true of one

who changes road dust to doorway?

The crop appears to be one thing

when it is still in the field.

Then the transformation time comes,

and we see how it is: half chaff, half grain.”

― Rumi

The first bridges I ever saw in my life were the Kodambakkam Bridge and the Gemini Bridge or Gemini flyover bridge although I must add Basin Bridge to my now fast-fading memory banks to that list.

The word bridge literally means a passage between two places that are separated by obstacles. In music, a bridge is a section of a song that works with the rest of the song by creating harmony between contrasting parts. It introduces new musical ideas but still ensures that the context of the song remains unchanged.

So, in essence, you see that a bridge is something that you connect two or more things or a path, a passage that you use to cross over from one side to another side.

That being said and hopefully understood, I come now to the bridge or bridges between us human beings or to put it literally, what connects human souls to each other.

Love? Needs? Security? Hate?

We know what that bridge is that lies between parents and their child and what lies between Man and woman and between friends.

What about enemies who have sworn vengeance against each other?

In the womb of darkness that lay all around them in their subterranean underworld, Raja Durai and Rajendra Cholan stood blind and helpless like they had been when in their mother's wombs before being pushed out and delivered into this world.

In the deadly silence of the darkness, they heard a loud flicking noise and were nearly blinded by the lights that came back to life with their power now restored.

Both father and son who had raised their hands instinctively to cover their eyes when the lights had come on now slowly dropped them and stared at Azhagan who remained standing in the same pose, with his hands folded across his chest.

But he now stood just a few feet away from them and all around him lay the broken and dead bodies of the five eight-foot giants who were considered invincible by them.

They recoiled instinctively as their eyes caught Azhagan moving his right hand and assuming that he was going to attack them, both father and son braced themselves for pain and also to flee and then relaxed as their sworn enemy looked at both of them and said,' I moved my hand, my right hand ' Azhagan said and showing them his empty hand, and pointed at the dead giants and continued, ' to share my insights about your creations who I was forced to kill. I am sorry about that ' and looked at the older man and with a smile greeted him and bowed his head, ' Emperor Raja Durai, the current king and leader of the Chola Dynasty. I see you and give you my greetings and respect'.

Then turning to Rajendra Cholan, ' Prince, It is indeed an honour to see you in person. I have heard so much about you and your genius brain. It is indeed a pleasure to finally meet

one of the most intelligent human beings on this planet.'

Rajendra Cholan snarled, ' What happened to the two hybrids? '

' I am sorry but I destroyed them ' and shaking his head, he looked at Rajendra Cholan, ' although, I admit I was impressed with that new or later version of your creation. Chirpy one and also to my great surprise, an arrogant one that assumed that it was nearly human and had reached a kind of consciousness similar to the human species.'

' It was a machine. But still, it wanted to be human and wanted to attain human consciousness. But, you on the other hand are neither human nor machine. But an alien. So, you should not be talking about things like consciousness and human qualities.

Stepping forward deliberately, Azhagan now stood at just an arm's length away from both father and son and with a cryptic look in his eyes and with a cryptic smile playing on his lips, he asked in an innocent voice, ' My lord, please forgive this so-called alien and kindly explain to me what you mean by the word consciousness. I am asking you this question because, I have a different take on what it means to be human, alien or anything for that matter of fact. Our ideas and ideologies are different like the opposite shores of a mighty river.

Reflecting the cryptic smile and twinkle of Azhagan's eyes, Rajendran replied in a grim tone, ' Opposite shores of a river or opposite shores of our star systems? ' and in an explosion of movement, struck at Azhagan by straightening his right hand and plunged the thin knife into his chest that he had hidden in the sleeves of his right forearm and in a blink of an eye plunged his left hand and buried the long thing steel knife into Azhagan's neck and yelled, ' Die you parasite. Die now you murderer of my blood and my ancestors. Die and begone forever.'

Placing both his huge muscular hands on the surprised and fatally injured Azhagan, Raja Durai pushed him to the ground and placing a heavy foot on his bleeding chest roared, ' Die knowing that we will eventually hunt and kill every last one of your family and all those who have sworn loyalty to your alien lineage.'

The loud ringing noises of the elevator alerted him and Rajendra Cholan and both of them hurriedly looked at the closed doors.

https://youtu.be/gAIwWeFURPk?si=ZL9NSlGfv-0Pd0xC

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0as-XiTwM4

Avan, Aval Adhu 501

The large elevator doors painted in dull grey opened their metal heart revealing to Raja Durai and his son Rajendran what it had brought down from up above. It opened to show what had descended inside it as it had come down to the fourth floor of the Subterranean hiding of the Chola Dynasty's royalty.

Loud gasping noises that usually come from shock and fear erupted from Raja Durai and Rajendran and with eyes nearly popping out of their sockets they stared at the large black-maned lion that stared at them with a blank expression in its eyes.

Then the lights died down and darkness descended all over them and in the inky blackness, both the Cholas stared in sheer terror as the emerald green eyes of the huge lion began approaching them.

Even though their eyes had no light falling into them, both their ears began working overtime as the sounds of the lion's claws scraping the floor reached them and travelled into their hearts, which began racing in fear and panic.

' My lord, father, this is beyond both of us now. It is just the two of us against this creature. So, move now and find a way to escape. I will make a stand against this beast and hopefully buy you a few moments that you can use to make your getaway.'

Raja Durai grabbed his son's hand and pushed him away, ' No, son. My work is done. I have killed this alien parasite. You go and start fresh and live out your life in peace and comfort. We have accomplished what our ancestors could not do in their time and all through this 600 years. We have finally avenged the deaths of all our ancestors by killing this alien thing. It is over. Run, escape and let your father die a courageous death taking on this beast.'

Rajendra Cholan looked at his father, ' I am sorry Father, but, I am not going anywhere. If you are going to die then I am going to die with you. I am not abandoning you now when you need me the most.'

The lights came back on and both of them turned in the direction of the lion and froze in shock to see it once again sitting calmly on its hindquarters and staring at them with calm and serene eyes.

If the sight of the huge lion had shocked them into a state of stupor, what came next made their ghosts jump out of their bodies in fear and amazement.

The huge black-maned lion opened its jaws and spoke in perfect English that would have made even the English-speaking natives of England run back to school to brush open their diction and accent.

' Gentleman, let me introduce myself. My name is Buddha ' and pausing for a second, ' Please, if you are not comfortable with my rather quaint old-world English, I can switch to Tamil, although many have complained that they could not understand a word that I had spoken. They call themselves loyal Tamilians.'

Opening its huge jaws it laughed with its mighty white fangs glinting in the light like curved scimitars and said, ' Even he, my master and friend had difficulty in understanding my version of ancient Tamil.'

Then, fear once again gripped the hearts and minds of both the Chola scions, as they saw the beast that called itself Buddha stare at its fallen master and companion and saw it get up and stand on all its four legs.

' You have stabbed him to death. Why? He came in peace, alone and unarmed. Yet, you murdered him and that too in cold blood with hidden knives. Why King Raja Durai? Why would you stoop so low as to kill an unarmed man and that too, one who came with only peace and forgiveness in his heart.'

Raja Durai mustering up his last vestige of courage roared angrily, ' He murdered my ancestor. He is not human and does not deserve this planet. He has no business in our human world.'

Buddha stepped forward and asked in a very subdued and curious voice, ' Murdered your ancestor? He is not human? But, pray educate me, your highness, on what being human really means. What does it take to be human in this world?'

Turning to Rajendra Cholan, ' Prince, do you have an answer to my questions.'

Placing one huge clawed paw in front, Buddha leaned forward and said, ' You and your ancestors have been killing, and murdering innocent people for hundreds of years and have been doing that thinking that you are in the right and that you are justified in seeking vengeance. But, revenge for what? Do you even know what happened all those centuries ago? '

Buddha exhaled its breath and roared, ' Let me show you what really happened and who started it all. See for yourself '.

The minds of Raja Durai and Rajendra Cholan were swamped as the breath and light from the lion called Buddha surrounded them in a bubble and transported them back to another world and to another part of time. To the world belonging to kings and queens and when mighty dynasties ruled the land that we know as India today.

Buddha took them back to the time when Azhagan was born and walked the world holding his blind mother's hand.

It was a time when the boy was really a boy and the time when the mighty Cholas dominated South India and also neighbouring lands such as Sri Lanka, Andaman, Malaysia, Thailand and other nearby islands.

Book worm

There are times when I travel back in time and back into a lost forever part of my life and also into the finished lives of insects who lost their lives. How you will ask, and I answer, through and in the pages of books that lie around my house like old friends who are comfortable in their current places on my shelves and slumber without any questions asked about their presence.

There have been many a time when I have opened a book and found a strand of hair stuck to a page and I know it was me, ten or twenty years ago. Black and dead after having parted from my head.

Sometimes, lurking between pages are the desiccated remains of tiny insects. I stare at them in envy and whisper, ' Great pharaoh ant, moth, or tiny cockroach, you unlike those Egyptian kings who were mummified with gold and precious jewels in their pyramid tombs, have been mummified among words and in pages and lie among books created by great minds. What a glorious death?'

Other times, I gaze fondly at the writing of my wife who has signed her name along with the date claiming ownership of the book. Book maybe but thoughts not. I stare fondly at my wife's writing that was done ten, fifteen or twenty years ago.

In the lofts of our bedrooms are cardboard coffins that hold the thoughts of long-dead American and British writers who I hope to meet once again in the winter years of my life. I wonder if the books purchased in bargain sales in the old Landmark shop that once existed in the basement of Apex Place, Nungambakkam will stay alive and intact in the coming years. The last time I met them, they looked yellow and strained and I hate to think what they will think when they see me yellow and strained in my old age. It should be a good meeting.

https://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/chennai/a-landmark-chennais-book-lovers-will-miss/article5906144.ece

Avan, Aval Adhu 502

History Old English istoria, from Latin, from Greek historia ‘inquiry, narrative, account’, from histōr ‘learned, wise man’, from an Indo-European root shared by wit2; subsequently reinforced by French historie, histoire.

If I, had an opportunity to travel through time, a one-time offer given by that entity called God, I would use it to go back into time, deep time and see for myself where this universe began its existence. That is if it really had a beginning. Yet, I would reject God's offer to go back and see my parents, brothers, friends and other loved ones who are no more and would categorically demand that it honoured its offer and take me to the time I wished for.

Where would you go? Which part of time or which part of your life would you want to go back and see and what would it do to your current time and the way you go about living your life?

Seeing is believing. But then, there is that perspective in what you see and what you make out of all that you see. In the end, it comes to what is right and what is wrong. If there are indeed laws that govern this eternal universe, then surely they must be what is right and what is wrong and what is good and what is bad.

The huge black-maned lion took them back in time and back into the past that we call history and Raja Durai and Rajendra Cholan saw everything and felt everything.

They saw the mighty Pandyan Kingdom reduced to the state of a vassal by the mighty Chola Kingdom which was being ruled by Kulothunga Cholan. They witnessed the birth of Azhagan to his blind mother Avini and saw the mighty Buddha stand watch over the village of Perumalvaram.

They saw their ancestor Kulothunga Cholan burn down the famed coronation palace in Madurai to punish Kulashekara Pandyan for refusing to pay taxes and saw him fall to the ground paralysed in shock.

They saw Azhagan kill Moorkan with his bare hands and tear his head away like a child plucking away the gossamer wings of a butterfly and saw him fight and defend the weak and innocent on many occasions.

They saw with fear and guilt as the assassins sent by Rajendra Cholan murdered Avini and they saw the lion die fighting while defending the people of Perumalvaram.

They saw Azhagan stand before Kulothunga Cholan and beg for justice for his murdered mother and villagers and saw for themselves his refusal to behead Rajendra Cholan.

They saw and heard the mighty Kulothunga Cholan kill himself as justice for Azhagan's murdered mother and saw all the evil that Rajendra Cholan plotted and carried out right until the epic battle in which the old and paralyzed Kulashekara Pandyan bested him and defeated him in single combat.

They witnessed Maravarman Pandyan behead Rajendra Cholan and kill him after he had ordered the sneak attack on Kulashekara Pandyan and Azhagan.

Buddha opened its eyes and looked at Raja Durai and Rajendra Cholan and asked, ' Will that do or do you want to see more, my lords?'

Rajendra Cholan slowly sank to his knees and placing his hands on his legs, bowed his head and whispered in a guilt-stricken voice, ' and all these years, I was brought up to hate him and them.'

Raja Durai screamed in anger, ' Rajendra, what if all this is an illusion? What if it is some cheap magic that this alien lion is conjuring up to deceive and mislead us?'

Buddha opened its jaws and in a soft but deadly tone said, ' Careful King Raja Durai, I am not Azhagan. I don't trade barbs with barbs but usually rip open the bellies of those who insult me and worse accuse me of wrongdoings.

The Chola prince Rajendra Cholan looked into the eyes of Buddha and said, ' Thank you for removing the blinds from my heart and my soul. I will forever be grateful to you for this.'

Raja Durai turned and smacked his son and the prince with the back of his right hand and it was delivered with such force that it forced Rajendra Cholan to fall to the ground nearly unconscious. He looked up at his father with blood dripping from his torn cheek and spitting out a few teeth,' My lord, it does not matter what you do to me for I have seen and felt the truth and have also seen all the lies that our ancestors propagated over the centuries. Enough. It is time to let go and time to forget and forgive and move on.'

Raja Durai stared vengefully at his son who lay on the ground bleeding and then before Buddha could do anything, plunged both his arms into Rajendra Cholan and stabbed him with the same knives that he had used to stab and kill Azhagan.

Several moments passed before Raja Durai finally came back to his senses and realized what he had done and screamed in horror, ' No, no. This cannot be. I did not mean to kill you, my son. I don't know what came over me, my prince ' and saying that he turned the blades on himself and stabbed his own neck and fell to the ground gurgling or at least trying to say, ' Forgive me, my son. Forgive this evil man.

Buddha sat watching the royal blood of the Cholas slowly run towards each other in thin streams and come together to form a pool of blood.

' In death you are united and in death, you are liberated. I hope you find the peace that your ancestors could not.

Then it growled, ' Master, it is done. So, stop acting dead and rise and see for yourself what this king and prince have done to each other.'

Azhagan whispered sadly, ' I heard, saw and felt everything, my fat friend.'

Buddha roared in anger, ' Fat, you called me your fat friend. How can you say that? A pig is fat. A dog can be fat. Not me. I am a lean, mean fighting machine.'

Azhagan raised his finger, ' Pussy cat, the Buddha who died defending my blind mother was a lean mean warrior. You on the other hand are nothing but a stuffed soft Chinese toy.'

Buddha leapt in anger at Azhagan and soon both of them were wrestling each other.

The wrestling bout lasted a minute or more and then Azhagan lifted Buddha with one hand and holding the panting lion, asked, ' Do you want more, little kitty or do you promise to go on a diet from today and also promise to spend a couple of hours on the treadmill every day?'

' I promise, you mean green alien thingy. Now put me down before some of our people see us. '

Azhagan slowly placed Buddha on the ground and remembering something, said, ' Come it is time to go and meet Mrs. Madhurima Ravi Kumar and Meenakshi's parents. It is time to end this story and begin a new one.'