"So you'll be telling your dialogues looking straight at her after you are done till 'it was impossible for me' look down and turn your head in regret. Then looking at the ground and your palms, tell your next dialogues. While speaking slowly, walk towards the window and look slightly towards the left. That's it for this scene." The director finishing his speech starts talking to his assistant about the lunch. Sekhar looks absent-mindedly at the mirror in front of him and starts puffing his cheeks with the powder. The make-up artist, Margo, comes and attends his cheeks and makes his eye bags brighter.
"You have been drinking again lately haven't you?" asked Margo quite reluctantly. Sekhar simply smiled looking at her in the mirror. He was looking at himself quite intently. Trying to find some dark spots maybe but that wasn't quite it. He was deep in thoughts and somehow looking at himself in the mirror always made him seep back into thoughts. Some thoughts are impotent, without much to go forward with. This wasn't such an instance. It was a fertile thought, he was thinking about the character that he was going to perform.
"You always speak less, don't you?" Margo asked without expecting an answer and she was met by another smile, one that makes little girls' hearts go crazy.
Sekhar Puree, born in a small town by the sea, was son to an electrician who made a living out of repairing light bulbs, occasional televisions, mixer grinders, etc. He looked entirely different from the rest of his family, and his mother gave the credit for his good looks to a long-lost grandfather. It was only when people started getting refrigerators that their conditions started improving and at the age of eight, Sekhar had his first chocolate bar without having to share with his older siblings. It was no great occasion as well, he had simply got the third prize in English recitation at school. At times his father would bring refrigerators home from his workshop so that he could repair them even at the dead of the night. This started being a bliss for the family during the summers.
The sun would burn all day and make a fence out of the low thatched house with asbestos roof. To escape the heat, the whole family would often open the refrigerators at home in the absence of Mr. Puree. Sekhar's elder brother Prakash was a dwindler, and Sekhar had spied on him smoking some kind of cigarette behind the playground with his friends. Sekhar had received a round of thrashing after he had asked his mother what Prakash was doing to himself in the bathroom. His elder sister was a comely woman and the eldest of the siblings. She was the angel of the house but ventured out as well to help her father and even shared the economic burden of the household. Sekhar remembered how his sister would come back from school and rush to give private tuitions, then come back late at night and even make the dinner. Life was going well for Sekhar, he was an average student but started getting terribly low marks. When thrashed at home for bad reports he would simply say that he never understood the things the teachers taught him. His father would go wild and beat him more until he collapsed on the floor, while his sister and mother sat crying in the kitchen, terrified of the father.
One day, when he was around 14 years of age, he had failed in the finals, and he knew life would be nothing but darkness for him in reality. He went back home late. He sat on the playground and waited for the street lamps to light up. The crickets started their song of the night and he kept staring at a puddle in front of his feet. He could see his own reflection. Sharp nose, round eyes, thick lips, a little stubble on his cheeks, a faint streak of hair standing almost erect above his lips. The sight made him wonder and he was lost in thoughts. He was coming back home and he saw his sister at the entrance. She looked scared.
"The shot is ready Sir", said one of the managers.
The lights were ready and the hero came and sat upon the easy chair that was waiting for him. He kept mumbling something "I had come for a different errand. I never knew things would turn out in that fashion." The director asked, "Ready Sekhar? Ready Arlene?" The heroine smiled confidently and said "yes". She was a newcomer, but she had been a relative of a producer who had worked with the director for a number of films. Let's just assume that she had a slight advantage but the only disadvantage was that she never got roles that made an impact on the plot of the film. Sekhar said, "Give me a minute, let me let in the character".
II
To cool off his wounds on the late summer night, he went to the refrigerator. He found that the light wasn't working and it was difficult to close the door, but the rest of the machine was working fine. A cool breeze blew on his face and he turned his back towards the fridge and heaved a sigh. A television that his father was repairing in anger was taking a beating as well.
"Will you close the door now idiot?"
Without a word, Sekhar closed the door. The television started suddenly and Sekhar's father started changing the television channels. At a particular channel, the father paused and started watching what was happening. It was a man in his mid-forties, holding a brass tumbler and drinking from it. He poured some dark liquor that Sekhar's father was quite accustomed to.
"You ask why I drink Pinto? I drink to enjoy life, not to forget it's the true meaning. I drink it to remember my life like it was when I was just the age of your son. My wife, my family and almost everyone sympathizes with me. They often ask me the same goddamn question that you have asked, perhaps a million times. You feel that I am depressed about something, no goddamn it. Neither do I forget my responsibilities, and that is probably the reason why I bring food to the table every day and a little bottle for myself."
"But this isn't life Gonzalves, you got to be sober, there is so much more to the world than being a drunkard your whole life. You have to…"
"To hell with what I have to."
After drinking from the glass, the actor walks up to the mirror across the parlor with the glass of whiskey in his hand. He touches his face with the left hand and moves it across the stubbles on his chin.
"You asked me if I was depressed. I was, especially when my son was born. I knew my life had ended and I had to live for him, not for myself. When I was young, I used to smoke cheap cigarettes by the sea with my fellow brothers and make merry. We used to dance and sometimes I brought Rita and made love to her under the stars. Once we even got chased by the police" roaring up in laughter, his face becomes sterner and he gets angry. He holds the mirror frame and speaks loudly with passion in his voice, "But where is that, now I turn to her and all I can see is a mother, thinking about what she would cook the next day. I look at you, my childhood friends, my brothers, everyone is wondering what they would do the next day. But when we were young, we would look out to the sea without a worry in our hands."
He looks at his hands and touches his face with both hands, "My hands, my face, every inch of my body speaks of woe. I sometimes wonder how young Baxter Gonzalves turned into the man he is today. I wonder Pinto, I simply wonder."
Sekhar could see the image of the actor in the mirror. He could see the wonder, the amazement, the self-pity all in one face. But somehow he wanted to see the man whose reflection was seen in the mirror and the camera. The camera was faced against the actor, thus the camera could only show what the mirror on the wall would; the splitting image of the actor in it.
III
Sekhar sat on the chair in a relaxed position, smoking a pipe and staring at the ground thinking. The camera shows Arlene, face quite tied up, clean and fresh without much makeup. The only piece of color on her face was the bright red lipstick, and she was smoking using a medium-sized filter. "But I had only one work, I only ordered you to kill one little whore. And a professional like you failing in that one piece of shit. You do redeem me to be crazy don't you, or perhaps you took my kisses far too gently. What would it take Carlos, tell me your price?"
"Price? A man like me does have a price. We all pay prices don't we? We do need to pay price for every fucking deed we commit." He gets up and walks towards the window, and performs as per the director's commands. "It was impossible for me, and know I wouldn't ask why. Nor would I tell you, but you paid your price, and…" Sekhar stood still for a moment without saying anything. He looked out of the window and simply rubbed his nose. The director called cut and tried to conceal his anger in a closed palm over his face. Sekhar walked up to the front and he was attended by the makeup artist and assistant. Arlene was busy applying another coat of that bright lipstick. Sekhar stared at her and she started adjusting her brassiere feeling his eyes over him. With a sudden rush, Sekhar goes up to the director and orders for a cup of coffee to a spot boy. He starts speaking and the director puts down his hands. He seems interested in what Sekhar had to say. After a moment, he smiles and pats on Sekhar's shoulders.
"Do you think this will work better?"
"If it doesn't cut your shot expense from my cheque"
"Now that's like a confident actor. I guess you will soon be a competition for me huh?"
The scene was being set, and Sekhar was helping himself to light lunch. A sandwich, a cup of coffee, and a cigarette. He is deep in thought but Margo was constantly speaking about how she made her husband black and blue after she found he was sneaking liquor at home.
"I say you should know how to deal with men and use your hands if the need arises. I hate being his mother though."
"Miss Arlene, the heroine of the film wants to speak to you," said Arlene's assistant and looked at Margo with pride.
"I'll be there in a minute."
"You know where this will lead."
"It will be her fault, I will need the honey and the money. Don't worry, I will see to it that we don't click pictures."
"Sekhar, don't go."
In a minute Shekhar was busy ruining Arlene's makeup and scratching at her brassiere. Arlene was heated and it seemed she was the one who had initiated the action inside the green room. Sekhar picked her up by her thighs on the dressing table and brushing his loins against her, he tried to untie her dress although very carefully. He had to reach Arlene's shoulder and untie the lace one by one from her back. It seemed a difficult kind of dress and that frustrated both of them. But they had to be sure that the dress did not suffer any wear and tear. A face stared at him from the other side of the mirror on the dressing table. It was trying to smile wryly, almost reaching an evil smile. Eyes down, cold hearted smile. The smile of Carlos perhaps, or maybe Gonzalves. He was amazed. He almost pushed Arlene aside and held the mirror frame in his hands. He touched his own lips trying to sense if he was really smiling an 'almost evil smile'.
"Is everything alright Sekhar, is there something wrong with the mirror?"
"Shut up, Al. For your Christ's sake, shut up. Can you see, he is smiling at me?"
"And when I asked you for a drink you said you have stopped drinking, for my Christ's sake, please come, don't leave me panting like this."
"You wouldn't change a bit Sekhar?" asked the makeup artist as Sekhar came storming out of the green room. Arlene was mumbling something angrily after Sekhar as she was peeping through the half opened door, and she closed the door after a while.
"Was this too necessary?"
"Shut up Margo, please."
"What is it? Something wrong? C'mon, tell me."
"I am seeing myself, you get what I am saying?" He leaned forward and almost whispered to Margo "I am seeing myself. I see things I can't explain. I feel it is some spirit that is after me. Can spirits take my shape, Margo?"
"They sure can, only if you truly believe in spirits. I told you to reduce the alcohol slowly. It doesn't happen at once like that. Or are you taking that slow poison again?"
IV
It was the early 70s and Bollywood was raging with action films everywhere. A large number of people were appointed as stunt dummies and most of the actions including the horse riding scenes required dummies. Now one thing that Sekhar was particularly good at was horse riding. For a long time, he had worked as a replacement for Nathan when he had an almost fatal accident in the stable. He used to visit the farm house after college in his first year and work there from 4 to 10. He would tend the stable, feed the horses, and comb them and occasionally fix the fences, clean the garden, the driveway, and he would sleep the moment he lay on his bed. On his fourth day, however, he got a chance alone with the horse as the jockey had left early that day.
"Sekhar, feed the horses well and see to it that you lock their stalls well. Feed Mullu his medicine, Master is very worried about his health." Mullu was the only male in the stable because male horses who weren't castrated were becoming harder to find these days, so the owner was very attentive towards this one. Sekhar simply nodded and it was around 9:30 when he was swiftly galloping on Mullu. He was a sick horse so he was calmer than his former self in his days of glory. This became a daily habit, and Sekhar started coming home late. His mother was afraid all the time that he must be gambling or frisking around like his brother. She would smell the stink on Sekhar's shirt and keep a check on his pockets daily. His father assured her that he was working over-time which is a good trait in men. It was only after Nathan had regained his strength. Sekhar stopped coming home late. But by then he was a professional jockey, all learned by himself. He grew a pride in himself that he could learn even the hardest things on his own. Only dividing numbers, locating places on the globe, and telling the time of the great wars worried him. He also found his skills in cooking and replaced his sister when she got married to a shopkeeper's son.
"This is all woman's work, get up", his mother would be furious at him.
"Leave him be" his father would cut in, "at least the boy is making himself useful, not like your elder son. A complete jerk, someday you will find him lying on the streets. God knows what diseases he will contract."
"20 fresh men, tall around 5'8 and above, fit and muscular, broad shoulder, excellent in riding horses needed for a film shooting. The money will be discussed after the trial."
The miscellaneous contact details were written in red and he knew this was an important advertisement. He saw the date for the trial test which was 3 days ahead. He decided to invest the rest of his money on riding a horse during these three days. But he didn't have to spend a penny, for Nathan arranged for his training at midnight. This was a smaller pony, very agile yet obedient. He would steal from home around midnight and reach Goodmen Farmhouse by before the clock struck the midnight hour. He would ride one hour every day and pony would be fed a little extra after the ride so that she doesn't show signs of exhaustion. The trial went incredibly well and he was chosen as one of the few leading horsemen. That was the start, and occasionally he would also get parts where he had to get beaten to a pulp, of course, it was plain acting but he had dialogues like "Forgive me" "I repent".
Once in a film, he had a scene for fifteen seconds where he had to deliver dialogue and appeal the audience for sympathy with his death. The director was taken aback with his realistic dialogue overthrow and the way he faked his death made quite a roar among the audience in the theater. Sekhar even took a picture with the lead actor who had received an award for the best hero in action. That day Sekhar put alcohol to his lips, he swore standing in front of the gate of the studio, that someday he would be welcome there. Someday he would be someone extraordinary and will be duly noted for his talent. His father had said nothing, he even went ahead to put off Sekhar's shoes the night his youngest son returned drunk. No belts, no thrashing, no abuses, no curses. He simply made Sekhar sleep after opening his shoe. It was early winters and the supporting actor made his tantrums known to the entire crew. The director Mr. Kuttrapally, a renowned director, had a rash discussion on the phone. He swore that he would extract even the call's bill from the actor's pockets. This called for a discussion and decision was taken that someone would lip the dialogues and whenever Sekhar forgot the lipsing he would either turn his face away from the camera or put his hands on his mouth. It was a scene where he had to put his hands on his mouth, in guilt, in pathos, in regret, and the lead actor would come and hug him. Sekhar took two hours, and the director was pissed off why he needed two hours when he was not required to actually say the dialogues. That day Sekhar neither turned against the camera nor did he put his hands on his mouth. The person who would dub the dialogues kept looking at the director and then Sekhar for he was throwing the dialogues with the exceptionally realistic acting and body language. The director even asked the cameraman to zoom at Sekhar's expressions. The leading actor hugged him, and whispered: "You're nothing but a stuntman, don't forget that". Then congratulating him he stormed out of the location, saying he had to take a drink. The director was unexpectedly not even pissed off. He had taken Sekhar into his personal vanity van. The Puree family had to never look back and Sekhar left his graduation incomplete. After playing a supporting actor for two consecutive Kuttrapally films, he received a break as the lead actor in a V. A. Raman film. Now his family didn't have to depend on refrigerators in that low thatched house, the house remained empty for a while, and soon it was demolished to make a new house.
"You're making the house, but I know you wouldn't stay here. So don't invest much", Mr. Puree said the words with a tear in his eyes. Then he held his son's chins in hands and hugged him for a while. He had only felt his father's love all those years, but for the first time, he felt the pang of love physically.
"That freak of your brother, take him with you. I don't want him squandering money, so make use of him. Make him your assistant or whatever you wish, but be very careful about your money. Also, remember he would die protecting you. So be careful."
When the brothers had received the trunk call during a shoot, the eldest of the Puree brothers headed back home tending his mother in her last days, became a travel agent, repaired the electric shop, and turned it into the office. He took in a wife, and when occasionally the lights would go out in the neighborhood, he was the one who was called to make complaints to the electricity company.
V
"I always find women in front of the camera, so I made a point that there would be women behind it as well", said the assistant director, Sukanya Chatterjee.
"So after the day's shoot what are your plans?" Sekhar asked lighting a cigarette to his lips and looking straight at Sukanya.
The affair had lasted for two years. A lot of things were coming to the forefront and Sukanya's husband had asked for a divorce. The telephone had rung in Sekhar's office, for around 15 times he saw the telephone ring. The choices were clear, either settling down or losing her forever, and none made total sense. Sekhar sat watching the telephone ring for the last time around 3:05 a.m. in the morning. It felt completely silent in the huge mansion, not a soul stirring. It seemed someone had shot those street dogs, no cats were on the hunt, no rats were scribbling around for mating and food. The wind kept knocking on the window sills.
Suddenly something trembled in the half-light in front of him and he felt as if something moved. It seemed as if the room was getting smoky and he could see someone sitting on a chair in front of him. He became stiff, and it felt that he could not move a muscle. Something started crawling from the back of his hand, and he realized it was a drop of sweat. In the half-light, he saw someone pour a drink and come back to the chair in front. The smoke somewhat cleared out and he could see the person taking a sip and smoking a cigarette with a happy face. Smiling now and then, feeling shy, as if someone had cracked a joke. He tried his best to turn his head and look at the table where his wine glass was shining with warm liquor in it. After much struggle, he could avert his eyes from the drinking man in front of him. He looked at the glass and this is what he feared the most. The glass lay at a 5 feet distance away from him on the bookshelf, and he only held a cigarette which was almost done with. What he saw next would have given him a heart attack had he been old or had he had heart ailments. But he remained sturdy and saw a man who looked quite like him except old and very ancient. Eyes drooping towards his lips, nose almost glistening with the sweat. Lips crumbled like a withered paper and the man sipped the liquor gently and smiled as if he was shy about something. He put his hands to his mouth often to hide his smile, much like what Sekhar did whenever he was embarrassed about something in front of the crew in the studio. The man bit his tongue gently and then smiled mildly, then looking straight at Sekhar, gave cheers with the glass in his hands.
Sekhar sat on his chair and repeated the same dialogues, but everyone could see that Arlene was not in her character. She seemed angrier than it was needed but the director did not cut in. Sekhar walked up as usual but this time towards a mirror. He saw the image glistening against his, he held the frame tightly. The image was doing the exact things that he was. It was imitating him, and to check that he rubbed his stubbles on his chin.
"Yes it is imitating me exactly, but is this me?" thought Sekhar.
"It was impossible for me, and I know you wouldn't ask why. Nor would I tell you, but you paid your price, and you did pay your price. She, the little one you call a whore, looks like Cynthia. You know Cynthia, she was a pretty woman. The kind of woman who makes you feel like home when you meet her, the warmth and all that fucking shit. Her scent, the smell of her skin, you wouldn't know. She looked like her, and sorry I could not pull the trigger on my sleeping Cynthia. She slept, much like my Cynthia, and I didn't want her to sleep for long. She had to see the Sun, it's rays sweeping through her hair, made her look like honey dripping from the edge of a fork. It was a morning that you can't forget even though you would want to. I wept Al I wept, there weren't tears, but I wept…."
"CUT, Sekhar you forgot your dialogues, what is wrong with you", the director was furious now.
"Pack up for the day. All useless pieces of shit," mumbled the director as Sekhar swept passing by Margo who tried to run after Sekhar. Starting off the engine, he didn't wait for Margo to approach him. He adjusted the wing mirror and looked at it. He could see himself driving.
On it was written:
"OBJECTS MAY SEEM LARGER THAN THEY APPEAR"
***