25 | the way he lived

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"MY DAD died of stress." Ved stared at the glass of juice he was holding. "The stress of having to come up with movies every 8 months and having many actors approach him for movies and booking them for dates. There was a lot he had to deal with. Resulted in a heart attack."

Maya listened quietly.

"When I told my mom I wanted to be a director, shortly after his death, she vehemently refused the idea. She didn't want to see her son, too, fall to the lure of the industry. 'It's a wicked industry', she would say time after time. It's glamour is only a bait.

She didn't realize that I never wanted to become a director for the fame or the pedestal it would put me on. I never wanted to become a director because of my dad. He introduced me to the field but he never inspired me to do it. I simply loved storytelling and helping cinematize stories.

It took awhile for me to persuade my mom. I was in 11th by then. My mom had successful convinced Gaurav to not step into any sort of field related to cinema. 

In the end, she gave up and let me do what I want. I studied film after film. I worked under countless directors as an assistant director or any sort of crewmate to witness the work that goes into making a film, firsthand. I had already seen it with my dad. But, I wanted to experience various styles of film making. Then, I shot that short film and I met you, in the process.

Sometimes, examining too many people and inspecting all their work takes it's toll. 

I had no original idea. Everything I did felt like an imitation of someone else. I started...wondering if I was really cut out for direction."

He took a sip of his juice, his eyes lost as he recollected the past.

"There's that thing, right? You might really, really love to do something but you might just not be cut out for that work or not be lucky enough to make it big. I began spiraling into this-this vortex of self-doubt and depression. 

I felt myself falling deeper and deeper and seeing no way out. Seeing no light at the end of the tunnel. But I had to film something for my project. So, I distracted myself with that. I took inspiration from how my mom and dad met. I made that a short film. 

I poured my heart into it for 2 months and then, you arrived. You weren't a ray of sunshine but-" He chuckled, at the sound of protest from Maya.

"I don't mean that in a bad way. You weren't a ray of sunshine. Not everyone deep within themselves need sunshine to find a way out. Sometimes even the softest rays of moonlight was enough.

You gave that to me. That day, when you restored all my confidence and courage with just a few words, I came back, brimming with life.

That's when I decided to make a movie. It wasn't really a movie. It was a letter to you. Just a more...cinematic letter."

Maya smiled, softly. "You know, I watched it on it's very first screening, first day, first show. I loved that movie and I knew...I always knew."

Ved gazed at her, mirroring her soft smile.

"And then you left and I continued making 12 Days In Bundok. It took me 8 months to finish it. Once I was done with it, I received multiple offers from well-known actors.

The thing with working with popular, established actors is that they won't bend to your will."

Maya rolled her eyes. "What are you? A dictator?"

Ved laughed. "That's not what I meant. What I meant is that they would ask you to change the script, make multiple revisions. And then when you look down at the script, you would have no passion to make the movie at all because that is not what you envisioned for the film."

Maya nodded, digesting what he said.

"I think I can relate to that. Multiple designs of mine were done dirty by my boss because of his crappy ideas."

Ved smiled.

"So, I took it at my own pace. I didn't emulate what my dad did. I did what I felt like doing, when I wanted to do it. But if I decided to do it, I'd put my everything into it. I wanted it to be worth all my time and efforts. 

That's when my mom built her confidence in me. She realized I was not my dad. 

Then, there was the paparazzi and the reporters asking me details about my dad and hounding me day and night. I switched residences, discreetly and had to send out multiple law notices to many of the journalistic offices to request them to stop their conduct."

A pause.

"That was a stressful time. After my second film. It was, then, that I really wished you were there. I wished you would tell me some words of bravery again.

So, I asked Saina as to your whereabouts and it turned out you weren't too far away from me. Just a few kilometers away in the same city.

She told me that you had already done your first fashion show, too."

Maya sipped her glass of water, feeling melancholic. "That was a shit show."

"I visited all of the fashion shows you did and contributed to, for that company."

Maya's eyes quickly met his. "You did?"

Ved nodded. "I was seated at the back, though. So, you probably didn't see me. I didn't want you to see me, then. At least, not yet. I wanted to wait until I do a little more with my career. I wanted to wait until you did a little more with your career. 

Then, I released my fifth film. I watched your fashion show the very next day. 

I saw you there, crying outside at the back exit."

Another pause.

"I couldn't watch it. I couldn't watch you lose the shine in your eyes and your confidence you wielded at me all those years back, pushing me to rise.

So I asked your boss to lend me your contact, although I already had your old one. He kept trying to push that other girl to me and try to get me to work with her.

Then, I overheard you on the last fashion show you did. Your assistant asking you to quit. Then, you came and sat at the back exit while your boss approached me.

The rest is all that you already know."

Maya finished her glass of water and glanced up at him. "Thank you for telling me all this."

She paused. Then, she added, hesitantly "I need you to come somewhere with me, tomorrow."

Ved smiled, leaning forward in his chair. "I'll go anywhere you go, Maya. You know that."


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wordcount: 1196 words

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