WHO IS AMAR ?

Part - I

Sheela steps down from the bus upon reaching a quaint and laid-back Himalayan town. She collects her baggage and asks Amar to get down quickly. She spots the cab driver and signals to him that they are the guests of the homestay.

The cab driver welcomes her and after loading the luggage, starts the car. Sheela sits alone at the back of the cab. Sheela quips – “You always like to sit in front. What’s so special in that seat.”

The car slowly climbs up the hill. The smell of flora and the sounds of fauna hit the visitors as they proceeded further into the mountainous region of Kumaun. Their joy of reaching a Himalayan town and escaping Delhi’s pollution chamber comes to a halt with the sudden break of the car. They seemed to have arrived nowhere, but the driver remarks– “Car only goes till this point. You need to walk further up.”

“Come on, let me show you the homestay.”

They collect their bags and trek to their room, while the driver also carries some luggage himself. After walking for a few minutes, they reach the property. It is an old bungalow overlooking the mountain valley. It has two floors – a bedroom on the top and a kitchen on the bottom. A separate room at the side houses the bathrooms.

Sheela quickly walks to her bed, unpacks, removes her sweater and sips water. She then shouts “Amar where are you?” There is no reply.

“The room is so cosy. Is it similar to the pics you checked online?” No response yet.

Without any hesitance, Sheela proceeds to the washroom to freshen up.

Before leaving for the washroom, she announces “I will freshen up and come back in five minutes”.

As the sun rises slowly, birds chirp and the wind blows. There is a warmth in the air but the shadows are still cold. The birds chirp as if they are performing an orchestrated song. There is a rhythm in their song. The villagers afar are busy collecting wood, unmindful of the visitors who arrived this morning. The valley is gradually covered by the rising sun. The whole scenery is coming alive and it appears that the sun is waking them up - one by one. The cows are lazily grazing the abundant grass, while the shepherd is lost staring into the valley. He is not in a hurry at all. He is the perfect example of living in the moment.

As Sheela comes out of the washroom, she asks Amar “How are you feeling at the homestay”. There is no response from Amar.

Amar had never come to this trip.

Sheela was talking to herself all this while.

Part – II

Jackson is very glad to hear the footsteps of a new visitor. He attempts to catch a butterfly and consciously walks towards the homestay where Sheela checked in.

Jackson likes to kill people. He has killed three tourists till now, but never a woman. He does not have a modus operandi. But he targets tourists and kills them unsuspectingly. He has a knack for finding the right moment and slipping people into death. For logistical reasons, he prefers to kill solo travellers. That’s why he was excited when Sheela walked towards the homestay.

He could make out from listening to the footsteps that only one person (other than the driver) had come. It was a tourist; she was all alone. A perfect hunt – he made up his mind.

As Sheela walks to the washroom, Jackson enters the checked-in room and ruffles his way through Sheela’s luggage.

He first stares at her ID card - Sheela works as a Professor in Delhi. She got only one pair of clothes. Staying for one day only? He guesses.

To his surprise, she did not carry any make-up. But a lot of chocolates. He wondered if she was on PMS. He heard on TV that some women crave chocolates while PMS’ing.

He walks out of the room and is met with a shocker. Sheela calls out to him. She sees him and does not get alarmed.

She wipes her face with a towel. She calls out to him “Amar”.

Sheela repeats – “Amar. I have turned on the hot water. You can use it while it’s still hot. Do not complain later.”

Jackson froze. He did not know how to respond to that. Never did he encounter someone like this. Even before his mind could process how to respond, he just obliged Sheela’s order. He comes down to the washroom area.

“Maybe from far away, she was confused. If I come closer, she will realise that I’m not Amar”, he thinks. To his utter surprise - Sheela asks “How is the homestay. Is it like they showed in pictures? Do you like it?”.

Jackson is still surprised but slowly starts adjusting still wondering how to respond.  

He thinks it’s safe to play along for now – “It is nice, just like I expected”.

He talks minimally and just nods his head in agreement (or disagreement) to the rest of the questions posed by Sheela. He doesn’t talk much.

He expected her to be terrified and that she would try to escape. But now he is confused.

Sheela walks into the kitchen to get some tea. And gets him the tea as well. Just the way Amar likes it – black.

Jackson decides to deal with the confusion later and gets back to thinking - about how to kill her.

Meanwhile, Sheela enjoys her cup of tea, totally absorbed in the moment. Although she had come to the hills several times, she reacted to the birds, trees and the mountains as if this was her first time.

Jackson also enjoys the tea. It was really good. “Pity that she has to die,” he thinks.

Sheela interjects his train of thoughts – “Can you get me some warm water. I feel an itch in my throat.”

Jackson stares at her – “maybe she will try to escape when I go to get water” he thinks.

Sheela interjects again – “I got you tea, why can’t you get me some water”.

“Cannot fight that logic” Jackson responds as he walks towards the kitchen. 

 

Part - III

Jackson ventures into the kitchen and pulls out a tiny packet from his pocket. It contained cyanide. He procured it during his recent kill and had little more remaining.

He mixes the cyanide with water to take that to Sheela “Never guessed that it would be so easy to kill someone” he says to himself.

But as he lifts the glass, he notices the colour of the water changes drastically. He understands it’s a bad idea. “This is bound to raise suspicion. Let me not complicate an otherwise easy job”, he thinks.  

Meanwhile, Sheela shouts as she coughs. He could hear her walking towards the kitchen - “Get it soon Amar. What’s taking you so long”.

He immediately rinses the glass and brings her the hot water. She immediately gulps it down her throat.

She stayed. She did not try to escape. Jackson is now beyond stupefied.

“What should I make out of this girl? Is she foolish or is she illusionary?”. The coughing immediately stops.

She says “I wish controlling my students was this easy. It is my first year of teaching and it has been a total chaos” pointing out at her throat, referring to her troubles of coughing.

Sheela stares at Jackson and continues – “But I am very lucky to have you with me. Thank you for moving to Delhi, Amar. It would have been difficult to manage this without you. Thanks, babes.”

And she plants a kiss on his hand.

Jackson is moved slightly. He slowly sinks into Amar’s shoes, whoever that person is.

He responds better this time “Delhi is strange. I can’t stand the pollution. Oh, my God!!”

“But I do find it comforting to be with you.”

Sheela interrupts “Let’s go for a walk. We did not come to a hill station just sit and talk.”

 

 Part - IV

They wander into the grasslands adjoining the homestay. As they exit the property gate, they quickly enter into a vast meadow. It felt like their personal playground.

Sheela holds Jacksons’ hands. After walking for a while, they sit down by the large tree. She leans her head on his shoulder.

Jackson is again puzzled and wonders how to respond. He sits still and decides to play along till he can figure out what to do. “Maybe she is mad,” he thinks.

The sun rapidly rose over the overlooking valley and gave good warmth. Jackson removes his sweater and can still feel the heat. He points at a cliff, that’s towards the end of the grasslands.

As they walk towards Jackson, he is cooking up a sinister way to kill Sheela.

“I can simply push her into the valley. Never thought it would be so simple”. He smiles.

Jackson interjects his own stream of thought “Hey why don’t you go over the edge of the cliff. I will take a good picture of yours. This background is amazing”. It was indeed amazing.

“I never took you for a photo person. I rarely have any pictures of yours” responded Sheela as she walked towards the edge of the cliff.

“I do not like taking my pictures. But I don’t mind taking others’” responded Jackson instantly.

“You always have something smart to say, don’t it”, noticed Sheela as she walked towards the spot.

As Sheela gets ready to pose – she looks below the valley

“Hey, this is not a remote place after all. I can see a lot of houses down here. Even if I jump, I think I’ll land up in their houses” – she laughs and remarks.

Jackson was surprised if Sheela could read his mind.

He understood that pushing her off the cliff would not work and suddenly lost interest in taking the picture.

“Come back”, he quips.

She is annoyed - “Take the picture that you wanted to take”. He takes a picture rather uninterestingly.

 

Part - V

As they walk back towards their homestay, Sheela says “I am really lucky to have you. In fact, I was surprised that you agreed to be my partner despite knowing my mental condition.”

Jackson now confirms that she has some serious medical condition. He sympathises with her. His mother was also similar to her. She was considered insane by her neighbours and relatives. Only as he grew up, he realised that she was suffering from an acute mental condition.

He slowly started feeling good about Sheela. He decides that he is not going to kill her.

Also, “She would not resist if I kill her. It’s no fun” he fiddles in his thoughts.

Sheela and Jackson come back to the porch and sit outside the homestay in the open sun.

Sheela lies down on Jacksons’ lap. She picks his hand and places it on her hair – indicating him to caress them. Jackson caresses her hair and is met with a rush of emotions.

The sun shines bright and a blinding reflection falls on Jacksons' face as Sheela closes her eyes.

He notices a sharp knife lying on the table and Sheela’s throat right in his grip. It is as if someone placed it to help Jackson execute Sheela.

Jackson picks it up but hesitates. He holds the knife for a moment, before deciding to place it back on the table.

Sheela closes her eyes and falls asleep. Jackson is surprised – “How can someone feel so sleepy when the sun is hitting their face.”

“Maybe she is too tired,” He thinks.

He suddenly remembers and now it becomes clearer – “The glass of hot water did have traces of cyanide left in it. It would have been sufficient to push her into sleep” he clarifies to himself.

She is not sleeping. She lost her consciousness.

--------

Sheela wakes up the next morning.

As if nothing had happened, she packs her bag and checks out of the homestay.

She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t look out for anyone. She folds her clothes and fills the water bottle. Jackson is nowhere in sight.

Sheela reaches the road, the cab driver waiting.

“Hurry up madam, it's late already. I have another trip to attend”.

She does not react and gets into the cab. They reach the bus stop.

She gets into it and reaches Delhi, later that evening.

 

Part VI

Sheela reaches her flat.

She knocks the door and there appears Amar as he is opening the door.

Not even stopping to take off her shoes, Sheela hugs Amar “I should not have gone for the trip without you. I’m sorry Amar.”

A slightly surprised Amar asks “Why are you apologising? I asked you not to visit alone. But you insisted. It’s okay darling. I don’t mind.”

“I missed you baby” Amar added quickly, matter-of-factly.

With a wide smile indicating an achievement Sheela responded “I did not miss you at all”.

“How come?” asked Amar.

“I pretended that you were with me. And that was sufficient” winked Sheela.

“You were not required. Even pretending that you accompanied me during the trip was enough” she added.

“Enough for what?”, surprised Amar asked, “What are you saying?”

Sheela sat down on the sofa as she began to narrate her story “So I went to the home stay. I could sense a person lurking in it. It would have been difficult for me to fight or escape from him. I did not know what his intentions were, but they certainly seemed dubious.”

“I was in the washroom when this dawned upon me and strangely I could remember a story. A story of the bear and a man in the forest. Upon facing a bear, the person understood he couldn’t fight it, so he pretended to be dead. The bear wouldn’t harm a dead person and so it left him.”

“I pretended that the stranger was you, Amar,” said Sheela with a proud face.

She added “I acted like I had Schizophrenia. It worked out and he let me go unharmed. He was actually nice to me.”

Schizophrenia - Schizophrenia is a mental condition that usually involves delusions (false beliefs), hallucinations (seeing or hearing things that don't exist), unusual physical behaviour, and disorganized thinking and speech.

Amar walks into the kitchen, still surprised reeling from the shock “You are crazy. I don’t know what else to say”.

Amar turns on the Bluetooth speaker and it automatically connects to Sheela’s phone.

It plays “Who Is It” by Michael Jackson.

The song continues...  

 

Cut to – SHEELA WAKES UP FROM DEEP SLUMBER

Part - VII

Who is it song continues into this scene (With fading music).

Sheela wakes suddenly up to the phone ringing – “Who is it?” the same song that was playing in Amar’s Bluetooth speaker. She is trying to gather her wits as she wakes up. The song keeps playing.

She looks at the screen and notices her sister, Jahnavi calling. Jahnavi knows everything about Sheela. She is her sister cum therapist.

Sheela asks “Was I sleeping all this while?”

Jahnavi reacts “How would I know? I just called you now”.

After hearing no reaction from Sheela for a moment, she added “What happened to you?”.

 

Without heading to what Jahnavi asked, Sheela asks – “Where is Amar, yaar?”

Jahnavi is now alarmed – “Amar? What happened to you? Are you okay”?

 

Sheela insists and repeats “Where is Amar?”

Astonished Jahnavi asks – “Who is Amar?”

Title card appears

WHO IS AMAR?

Murder of mosquitoes

I write this piece as I lay irritatingly awake, third time on a row, at 2am in the night. This sorry state is solely caused by the buzzing mosquitoes which are duty bound in disturbing my sleep. One of my friends who suffers similar fate gave up and remarked “if all they want is blood, why can’t they be content at sucking it out and leaving? Why do they want to create a buzz around our ears?” I shared similar complaints and many more.

They seem to be almost non existent while I go to sleep. I make sure to close my doors in the evening, turn out mosquito repellent one hour before I hit the bed and scan the room/bed using a “mosquito-badminton” racquet (a speciality weapon/equipment used to massacre mosquitoes, used in the Indian subcontinent).

But here I am lying awake at 2 am with lots of bites on my head, wrist, cheeks, and hands. You got to be kidding me, man. I play another round of badminton only to kill 10 odd mosquitoes. I do not feel even an ounce of mercy while killing them. In fact, several times, I observed that I would have killed a mosquito (evident from the electrifying sound the mosquito racquet makes upon trapping its prey), but I would still press the button to watch the trapped mosquito die a hundred deaths.

This would all seem very normal (maybe funny) and routine to almost all of us. We are shaped by the society to consider the murder of mosquitoes as trivial. But what if it had been a little larger animal. Let us exclude animals we eat, because they would open another line of discussion (reserved for some other day). For instance, if I killed a cat, how would the world react? You can get a fair idea of emotions that people encounter, by watching Netflix series on “Don’t f**k with cats.” People were shocked and retaliate they did.

But why this empathy only towards cats and not mosquitoes? Is it because cats do not irritate people like mosquitoes? Not true. I have seen several instances of people being fed up of stray cats as they pooped in their houses, scratched their bikes’ seats etc. Is it because it is prohibited by law? I do not think so too, unless there is any law which specifically punishes this (and if the enforcement authorities act upon it). The most all-encompassing reason I could think was – cats provide value to humans.

How? They are cute. Humans watch cat videos and cuddle them. This provides people a sense of relief and helps in reducing some mental agony. They are also big is size. The human mind somehow attaches more unpleasantness with killing of animals with increase in size. For instance, killing mosquitoes and ants (the smallest beings) could be a daily chore. Killing cockroaches and lizard (little bigger beings) becomes little troublesome. Killing small birds (even more bigger beings) is a challenge. But if you kill cats (biggest animals in our discussion), you are considered lunatic. 

So, size of the animal matters to “decide” if killing animal is excusable or not. Exceptions are of course for things we consume. Ignoring the animals we consume, why is size such an important factor? Simply because, of the goriness attached to it? Gory details perceived towards death of an animal increase in proportion to their size. And the gorier something can get, the less value it generates for humans.

Take for instance, people who eat meat. I know scores of people who could swear by different meats. However, if they saw the animal they would consume being butchered live in front of their eyes, the number of people interested to eat it would reduce a little. If they were asked to butcher the animal themselves, this number would drastically reduce. If they were asked to butcher, cut the animal into parts and skin it, then the number of people choosing to eat meat would fall significantly. The reduction in wanting to consume reduces in various stages of increasing goriness because it reduces the perceived value obtained by consuming the animal. 

Humans are really messed up. 

Priyan Otthathilanu (പ്രിയൻ ഒത്തത്തിലനു) - An ode to the mundane life of people who find happiness in others happiness

Priyan Otthathilanu is a newly released Malayalam movie, that I happened to see today. To be honest, I planned to watch Prakashan Parakatte. However, after entering the cinema, I realised I had to watch Priyan Otthathilanu. With no other choice, I choose to watch this movie primarily because of my love of Malayalam movies and also due to respect towards Sharafudden (the protagonist of this movie).

This movie looks like an ordinary story of a person who has multiple chores and wears numerous hats. The protagonist “Priyan” is a homoeopathy doctor who is also his apartment’s secretary, caretaker of his estranged uncles’ son, mediator for his sister-in-law's marriage troubles, a friend in need of a stranger and also a scriptwriter. In this list of roles he dons, the scriptwriter appears in the last because that’s the priority he gives to it. But unfortunately, that’s his passion. Sadly, in making everyone else’s life happy, sometimes Priyan tends to lose out on his own interests.  

People like Priyan are very rare. They live a life for others. They do not do it to earn fame nor for some materialistic gains. They do it because that makes them happy. They secretly believe that they are the invisible gears in the mechanics of the world that makes it go on and on and on. And they do it as second nature. No one asks them to take up additional responsibilities, and no one forces them to pay attention to them. They do it because they want to do it.

An anecdote however beautifully sums up the motivation behind the intentions of this character. In the pre-climax when Priyan once again saves everyone else’s day but loses his mini battles, someone asks “In trying to help people around you, haven’t you seen that you have lost your little dream today?”. He responds, “during kindergarten, we played a game of lemon in the spoon. The winner was not the one who arrives quickly at the end line, it was the one who had the lemon in the spoon while crossing the end line”.

Few may wonder if they are a person like Priyan because they also find happiness in others' happiness. But this movie portrays beautifully this character and at the end of it, you would understand if you can resonate with yourself or someone you know. If you can relate to someone you know to be Priyan, what do you do? Should you call them up and thank them for their services? I don’t think so. Such persons do not expect a thank you. Maybe, just call them and ask “Shall we catch up for Chai?”. They will, almost always, respond with “when shall we meet up?”.

And if you can resonate with Priyan, then just pat yourself on the back, wake up tomorrow and continue the awesome job of just existing. Because if you exist, the world will be more Samadhaanam (peaceful).

P.S: This is not a movie review. These are just my thoughts about the movie and its character. The storyline is mundane but never off-putting. It gives good laughs every once in a while. All other characters have been given due importance as Priyan. This is aptly done because, in the eyes of Priyan, everyone is as important as himself. There are no songs, fights or typical masala components in this movie. A very nice feel-good movie. This is a beautiful ode to all the nice people out there who are moving this world one day at a time. 

Why I never felt alone with the nature

I sat on a bench named the 'Nature'

I could listen to 3 distinct cockroaches, the chirps of an orchestra of crickets, the howls of a pack of dogs, the quirks of an army of frogs, the meows of clowders of cats, the beep-jeeb-trrrr of several different insects

I could listen to the plants on which water was dripping, and the sound of the wind, the ticking clock on my watch, and also the fainting distant sound

I could feel the pebbles beneath my feet, wind touching my face, light on the eyes warmth of my body, the pulse of my heart, and firmness of the sand.

All these together seem so busy communicating to me, I was too busy to even acknowledge all of them.

All were waiting for my attention, but I couldn't do them justice. All was lining in the queue which I was too busy to address. 

At that moment, I felt I was not alone at all, I was in the lap of nature

Alone is the one who feels it in the crowd. 

Rantings of an Agnostic

There is no God

If there was one she wouldn't allow us to fight in the name of religion

There is a God

If not, who else would have designed the intricacies of the universe

There is no God

If there was one he would have not given humans free will and allowed us to reach the top of food ladder

There is God

How else do I explain the beautiful sublimities happening in my life

There is no God

If there is one, why would be plagued by COVID, AIDS, or Caste?

There is God

What else explains the world and its beautiful creations

Maybe God is in us of all. She is too big to fit in statues and locked in temples

Maybe God is Infinite and yet minuscule 

But definitely, she is not a narrow idea or an algebra problem to be solved

He is just there, Maybe. 

The Rain and the Sun

I want to see the plants destroyed
I wish to see the soil disappear from the ground
I want to see the roads deserted
I long to see people running in chaos
I want the clothes I wear to stink
I desire to be disturbed by the sounds outside my window
I want to slip and fall down under.

The plants I mentioned are the small growth in the pathway that collects the rainwater.
The soil I told is the one in the bed of pond which has gone dry due to the summer
The roads I mentioned should get deserted due to heavy downpour
I want people running in chaos because they would look for shelter when it rains.
The clothes may stink because I wish it rains so much that the Sun doesn't come out to dry my clothes.
I wish to be disturbed by sounds of thunders, thuds and the heavy rains
I don't mind slipping the steps and falling down under if they are soiled by rains.

It's not that the sun is shining any brighter
It's just that the clouds are absent now.

You get there when u get there

Sitting on a wooden bench and reading a lazy book is almost forgotten

Gazing at the stars and opening your mouth in bewilderment has become old school

Listening to the distant drummers at the temple is laughed upon

Watching the distant lights and trying to figure out a pattern among them is retarded

Feeling the gentle winter breeze and smelling the odorless roads is almost non-existent

Waiting for the lights to go out and watching the naked sky in amazement is almost forgotten

Marveling at the old songs from the radio is now only found in books

Doing nothing and penning down a poem Might almost seem historic

If leaving behind all of these is modern, sophisticated and wise

Mother nature, I'm happy to be archaic, simpleton and foolish.