Film and Television Institute of Pune First year, DV Project, 2012 Script: Arijita Das Direction and Cinematography: Ranabir Das Int. Scene 1 Small room, decked with fairy lights. White lights have been wrapped carefully in red cellophane paper. A bunch of young people, talking, laughing, singing. Very animated, very alive. The scene is almost like a tableau, with people wearing their expected attires and behaviour. Z( our protagonist), to himself, with a sigh: Same old, same old story. His eyes scan the room and stops at R. Sitting cross‐legged on the floor, with her hair bunched on the top of her head, Z can’t remember having noticed her before. She looks a tad fierce, but her eyes are sad. He looks away and grabs a bottle of beer. Ext. Scene 2. Terrace. Big full moon in the sky. Supposed to be the biggest of the decade. Z contemplates running away, but instead stands and admires the big ball of luminosity. Feeling a strange tingling sensation on the back of his neck, he turns around to find R staring at him with a curious expression on her face. “What?” “Did you know that people yawn when they are uncomfortable or when they are trying to hide something?” “Now I do.” “Good.” R plonked down next to Z, and almost commanded, “Sit” Too zonked to protest, Z sat down. “What do you want to do tomorrow?” “Tomorrow being the immediate day after today or tomorrow, the eternal tomorrow?” R laughs, almost a snort. “Are you always this prim?” “Mostly. Tomorrow I am leaving town, heading west. Feels surreal.” They sit in silence for a while, regarding the moon and the rather pleasant night air.
Z revels in the quiet. He is sick of the noise, the music, the people, the conversations. “Want to head?” “Huh?” “Want to relocate, shift your posterior to a better place?” “Not really, I’m pretty comfortable in my own skin at the moment.” “Hey, we all have our days. I’ll take you to a nice place, trust me.” Z does not reply. He is rather intrigued. “ Ok,” Z shrugs. Int. Scene 3 (Same party room) The noise is deafening. People are getting progressively drunker. Some are making out, some are dancing, some are standing on their own. R, shouting: “Rum or whiskey?” Z, a little far away, almost tripping over a passed out girl: “What? Wait!” R grabs a big bottle of whiskey, clasps Z’s hands firmly in hers and drags him out of the room. Ext. Scene 4.Night ( a big field, trees dotting the night sky) Z and R slowly appear on screen, panting and laughing. R is drinking from the aforementioned bottle of whisky. R: “Izzznt this a gorgeousss place? Z(grinning widely): Yes. Let’s observe the extent of the purest form of our human behaviour.” R walks in tiptoes, embracing herself. “I think I should observe the nature of your game” “You’ll be disappointed, I never plan.” “Then let’s do this together.” “Game?” “Yes, always” R grins. “Ok.’’’ “’So, I’ll shut my eyes and think of a place. You have to guess correctly. If you don’t, take a shot, run till that wall and come back. You have to think of a place while running and once you’re back i’ll guess. And, same.”
“HA! Okay, so what if I guess correct?” “You still drink.” (Game happens. Z and R, boisterous, excited, vibrant. Running to and fro, singing, drinking.) Ext. Scene 5. Night(Road) R and Z walking, arm in arm. Z walks ahead, as R disentangles her arm, and starts scribbling on the wall with a chalk she locates in her bag. “Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine meltin' in a pot of thieves wild card up my sleeve thick heart of stone my sins my own they belong to me, me people say "beware!" but I don't care the words are just rules and regulations to me, me..”
Z comes up to her and observes. R: “ I love scribbling on walls. I like the fact one person, maybe one out of hundred will read this and maybe it’ll make sense. Or maybe not. Who knows? Why don’t you write as well?” R smiles and hands him the chalk. Z writes: “Oh, who did you meet, my blue‐eyed son? Who did you meet, my darling young one? I met a young child beside a dead pony I met a white man who walked a black dog I met a young woman whose body was burning I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow I met one man who was wounded in love I met another man who was wounded with hatred And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard It’s a hard rain’s a‐gonna fall”
Ext. Scene 6. (Apartment) R: Reclining on the bed, she smiles to herself, lightly pushes Z with her foot who is sitting beside her. Z: I leave tomorrow. I don’t know what to feel really. I’m really happy to leave. Thinking about the possibilities is exciting. But then again, leaving my niche will jolt me out of my various senses.
R grabs him and starts kissing him on the mouth. Z, a little surprised goes with the flow. R stops midway. Sits by herself, playing with her hair, humming. Z: What just happened? R: (Nonchalantly) I cannot do this. Z: Why? R: (Stares at him, strangely) Because, firstly you would not understand the delicacy of this sudden situation concocted by us and secondly, someone always gets hurt. Z: Who? R: No one in particular. As I said, let’s forget this happened and enjoy the rest of the night. Z: (A little sheepishly) Okay. You are beautiful. R: Thanks and let’s head back to the party. I want people around. And I doubt it, but they might just miss us. Z: All right. They get up and leave. Scene 7. Int. Party. Night They are both standing in the elevator. None of them are saying anything to each other. The situation has become slightly awkward. Scene 8. Int. Night They enter the party again. Drunk people rejoice to see them. R raises and eyebrow and greets everyone. They are in the middle of a game of taboo. R and Z are asked to join in. They join in and soon it seems like nothing happened after they left. There’s only a small glance towards each other every now and then. Fin