THIS PICTURE. THAT STORY.

So a still from Bejoy Nambiar’s David inspired me to write this fictional piece.

This is not an excerpt from the movie, just a figment of my imagination.

The purpose of this post is not to promote/demote David the film.

It’s just a story of what I make of the movie still.

 

THIS PICTURE. THAT STORY.

The time had passed. The rain had poured. Colour had walked away from the room. It was a desaturated Saturday night. Nysa was drawing grey shades from her mind and sketching them on paper. After all these years, a pen was her only faithful partner.

“Joy decided to stay back on the porch. It was too tired to move into another rented relationship. So I packed hope in my bags and left some room for smiles too. “ Nysa didn’t like the remorse in her writing. And the fact that she always tried to fit in quarter smiles. The fact that all her writing stemmed from self-reflection.  She never wanted to be an open book, but she always wanted to be read. In one way or the other.

She left her words aside and walked towards the window, tying her emotions in a braid. It was her idea of hiding pain under the disguise of desire. She found comfort in conflict, even if she was tangled herself. She let out a knowing smile of disdain, something she did privately.

She lit a cigarette, put on her glasses and picked up the piece of paper she had just written on. Her words followed the wisps of smoke as she began to chronicle her present past. “I don’t know what I saw in David. I guess it was the idea of a man which was never seen or heard before. Rash, unstable, unforgiving, passionate, hard, brutal. Everything that was wrong in the world was right inside him. I’ve been an object of desire for many, but with him, I get to be the subject of desire. Even if for a short while, isn’t that something worth being?”, she left the cigarette burning in the ashtray. Removing her glasses, she let her thoughts be as they were, incinerating on a piece of paper.

She graced towards the mirror to be ready for him. It would be dawn anytime now, David would be home any minute now. The night had sucked her in its mood and she did not want to rebel against it. Not tonight. Untying her emotions, she let her hair flow free of every doubt. She readied her eyes with black and dressed her nose in gold. She returned to the piece of paper and folded it away in a book she never read. Sipping the night away, she walked to the porch and awaited joy to come to her doorstep. The car thundered its way through the gate. Her past compelled her to stay at the porch, but she wanted to bring it home. She was determined not to make this one a rented relationship. She’d paid her dues. As she walked into the house, she could hear his footsteps. She slowed down and stood near the window. Her moment was waiting. As she closed her eyes, she could feel warmth wrapping itself  around her body. His lips kissed her sultry neck. At that moment, hope and smiles climbed out of her bag and took shelter in her face. She thought to herself, “Joy, we meet again”.

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