Meri Pyaari Bindu Page #6

On a stage somewhere in Argentina,

or BKC or Mussoorie.

Singing in front of thousands.

I don't know about the rest.

Bindu, listen!

Jeet, Vinay let it be.

Baba, stop!

Forget it guys.

This will change your life.

My sweet Bindu.

My innocent Bindu.

My Bindu on my brow.

My love boat is in a whirlpool...

help it reach the shore.

Put your arms around my neck...

like a garland of flowers.

Let's swing on a love swing.

Hurry and come to me...

and brighten this dark life

of mine.

Brighten my life.

My Bindu.

So sweet.

Congrats Abhi.

What a day! This is not

how it played out in my head.

Never mind.

All that choreography,

six months' planning.

Your Dad, my Mom.

You should've seen the rehearsal

videos. They were hilarious.

Look at their faces.

Baba is sleeping with his mouth open.

Bindu.

Still mad, are you?

No.

Your Mom made me wear it.

What does she have against me?

It's 200 years old. It belonged

to my great-grandmother.

Since I was 12...

Ma has been looking for

someone who'll wear it.

I don't know, Abhi.

For a while I thought I could go

along with your plans for us.

I'll sing...

you'll do your 9 to 5 job,

We'll be happy.

But..

But, What?

But...

speak up.

It doesn't make me happy.

I don't know how to explain it.

No, my parents are here...

your Dad is here.

What was the point of all this?

I am sorry.

Sorry for What?

You could've discussed it

with me.

How do you expect

an honest answer...

when there is so much

expectation...

Stop thinking about what I want.

What your Dad wants.

What my parents want.

We never mattered before.

Why think of us now?

The question is...

what do you want?

- It's not that simple.

- Goddammit. What do you want?

I can't do this, Abhi.

It's too much.

I can't deal with this.

How can I explain it?

This is too heavy. I feel suffocated.

Bindu left for Bangalore.

She needed some quiet

time to think.

She called that night...

I didn't pick up.

For months she emailed.

messaged and called.

"I am sorry. Talk to me.

"Everything happened so fast.

The time was wrong.

"I am trying to find myself.

I am really sorry.

"Won't you forgive me, Bubble Wrap?"

Etc, etc.

I remember every comma,

every full stop.

I felt every emotion hidden

behind her words.

Call it anger, ego or something

else...

I didn't answer her.

Perhaps there was nothing

left to say.

She stopped writing after

203 emails.

Chapter closed.

Then one day I decided

to move on.

Quit my job...

and landed up in the world

of Hindi pulp publishers.

Mr Roy, you're trying too hard.

Don't copy Gulzar.

It's beyond you.

Don't try to be deep.

What I liked...

was the horror section

in the middle. Path breaking!

Bravo! You had me.

"The Witch's Slipper." Bravo!

Sir. just change the title

from "Slipper" to "Blouse."

Add some heat.

Sir. that's the answer

to all problems.

Life's solution, sir.

The one time you don't have

to ask...

whether you're dressed right

for the occasion. Right?

Just this tag line...

"Who is behind the blouse?"

Get it?

No, no. This is it.

Crack it open, sir!

Enter the dark side.

Come...

to the dark side.

- Nice meeting you.

- Thank you.

17 December 2009.

My first book "The Witch's Blouse"

was published.

Many called congratulating me.

Coincidentally that day

I got another call.

Hello?

Abhimanyu Roy?

Bindu Shankarnaraynan.

From an unknown number.

At least you answered.

Two years later.

Finally.

112 long distance calls.

Eight local calls.

Twenty-three letters.

I met your mother in Kolkata

twice.

I felt terrible when you

didn't reply.

But I felt Worse....

when I realised you were

right not to.

I felt...

How are you?

I'm good.

Abhi, I really had to talk to you.

Why?

You see...

I'm getting married.

At the end of the month.

In Bangalore.

Abhi?

Yes?

Nothing.

I know you won't come...

but I figured I should do

one thing right.

I know I'm being selfish.

But how could I marry

without telling you?

I'm happy for you.

Ok. I'm hanging up.

I know that you are now

a stranger to me...

but Still...

sometimes this thought

crosses my mind...

Carrom is beyond you.

Must I always open the door?

Mitra!

Bubla?

The hotel was too costly.

100rs for mineral water.

Yes! We were also missing you.

But you're too late...

I've polished off

all the sweets.

Come, play Carrom With us.

Move over! The champion is here.

New starts the Carrom board

horror show.

Thank you.

Looks like these walls

might collapse anytime.

You must have lunch with us.

You shifting?

No!

Just taking the furniture

for a picnic.

They got bored swung at home

I'm finally selling the house.

No strength to look after it

any more.

They'll soon build

a high-rise here.

I'll stay with Anita.

Aunt Anita?

Why not stay With Bindu?

We never understood you two.

Nor have I understood you two.

Bindu's bicycle.

You know I got it for her

when she was 5 years old.

And the dent. I crashed it

against the lamp post.

I got hurt. She didn't.

One of you had to get hurt

some day.

Abhi!

Stop!

Abhi, wait!

I'll complain to your mother.

My pants will split.

Stop there!

Chat later. Get on With the Work.

Pack all the furniture.

Electrician!

Where's that madman gone?

Where are you going, Bubla?

Hi.

What's your name?

I'm very hungry.

Shall I eat your finger?

You have five.

Please.

Just the little one, It's yummy.

- No!

- Kaanchi.

Made friends?

Give us time. I tend to

grow on people.

I forgot. What was our

emergency code?

Two, or three rings?

Everything was an emergency

to you.

There was no other code.

Pa told me you were here.

So finally Major will live with you?

I know.

We'll soon be at each other's throats.

I Wanted Kaanchi to see

our old house.

Kaanchi? Like in the song?

So?

Actually she's called

Kanchan in the song.

Know how long I have

waited for this moment?

A revenge song plays...

trembling you say:

"Forgive me, master.

"I made a mistake."

So you became a best-selling

writer after all?

I should've waited a bit longer.

- Have you read my books?

- Are you nuts?

Can't even read 4 pages of

the "Bangalore Times."

But...

on the book cover I read...

"The Wild Washerwoman"

will wash you away.

So how could I resist?

- What was the other one?

- I won't tell you.

"Tricycle." It'll puncture

your life.

Yuck!

Abhi, where are you?

When are we cutting the cake?

Rohit Ved Prakash, sir.

I've come to collect

Abhi's manuscript.

Abhi? Who knows Where he is.

But I have to tell you...

your novels are

super entertaining.

No matter what. You had to

become a writer.

Horror is easy.

I've been trying to finish

a love story for 3 years.

I am sure it's difficult.

What new is there to say

about love?

You'll find a new angle for sure.

Bubla Roy.

I know you that much.

You must finish it.

You'll have a hundred hits.

like Sachin.

Made a century.

But lost the match.

You advising me now?

You have never completed

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