Thousand Years | A Shubman Gill & Ishan Kishan Fanfiction ✓

Praan and Taral

1935 AD, Bombay

Praan and Taral were standing in line to purchase the tickets with only one person between them. Praan could not see Taral for a man taller than Taral was blocking his view. Praan looked around to see that the compound of Royal Talkies was filled with ladies some were wearing chiffon sarees and some were dressed in salwaar kameez. No children were to be sighted and this made Praan laugh.

He had almost given up the plan of an evening outside of the house when his wife had said that their children may not enjoy the movie.

He had two sons, a five year old and a three year old, both had been put in the care of his mother before they had left for the movie.

His wife had insisted that they needed to see this movie. Apparently it was the Hindi version of a Bengali novel that had become a classic hit film the same year - Devdas.

His wife loved reading and she had stumbled upon a translation of the book, a few months ago. Since then, she had tried persuading Praan to read the book but something or the other always ruined his chances of doing so.

And hence when Devdas came to the Royal Talkies, Praan took it as a sign that somebody up there wanted him to know the story.

Later that night, sitting in the restaurant opposite to the theatre, Praan would learn that Taral astonishingly had the same back story that had led him 'to the movies'. Or as they would later in rare moments of lazy comfort joke, 'to him.'

*****

The Talkies was getting filled with enthusiastic people who were talking on top of their lungs about various facets of topics : the climate, the long line to secure a ticket, its price, the hero, occasionally the heroine, the story, the book, the writer of the book, that is Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay and so on.

The hum of their chatter was so loud that when the film began, the collective sushing would still overpower the opening credits.

Taral found himself seated next to a man was wearing a heavy perfume that smelled like iris. Praan caught him sniffing and murmured, "It is iris."

Taral smiled. The lights had been switched off but the light radiating from the screen illuminated Taral's face as he said, "I thought so. It is my favourite scent."

He felt embarassed to have admitted his favourite fragrance in front of a man who was a complete stranger and hence he resorted to straightening his shirt by ironing it with his hands.

"It's my favourite too." Praan said with a grin that revealed a pair of stunning dimples that reminded Taral of a memory. A memory in which one boy was measuring the other boy's dimples. Dismissing it as a dream, Taral smiled at Praan and turned his head towards the screen.

*****

Praan and Taral were engrossed in the movie. They were enjoying Paro and Dev's innocent yet evident love blooming as the story progressed. At one point Taral mumbled, "Childhood love, of course."

Praan heard it and made a mental note to ask the man what did he mean by using 'of course'. He would learn at the dinner that Taral thought the purity of their love existed because they had known each other since childhood. Praan would disagree with a slant smile and the two would have a good, long banter about what makes love pure.

*****

When Devdas was leaving for his studies, Paro was overcome by grief. And later longing. During the entire scene that expressed her inner turmoil and yearning, Taral heard Praan sigh, thrice. He could not help but smile. The man seemed to be empathetic.

Praan happened to tilt his head a little and caught Taral smiling. He smiled back thinking that his friend here was an optimist and believed that the two would reunite despite the odds.

Straightening in his chair, Praan leaned forward to witness Paro and Dev's fate.

*****

During the intermission, Praan found Taral waiting to buy samosas just like him and he smiled as he walked up to him. When Taral noticed the mam stride up to him, he beamed.

"What do you think of the movie?" Praan asked Taral.

"All I can say until I've watched it completely is that it was written with a lot of heart." He took a pause and drew a breath.

"Do you think that the man who wrote the story was in love when he wrote it?" He asked Praan. Before Praan could answer he looked at Praan and said with a sheepish grin,

"When are we not in love?" He asked.

Praan laughed. This man seemed to be a romantic! Good for his wife, he thought and as they walked into the Talkies he answered,

"I think he was not in love but was witnessing someone fall in love with a person they could not be with owing to class divide."

Taral thought deeply about this before replying, "It does make sense. He has written the story with a sensitivity that only a third person could bring. For if it were based on his life, there would have been some shades of blatant bitterness or utter tenderness. Sarat seems to be somewhere in between."

Praan stopped walking and offered the gentleman dinner with him and his wife. "You are an interesting man..." he stopped realising he did not even know this man's name.

"Taral." The man said completing his statement.

"Taral" Praan affirmed. "I would love to talk more after the film."

"So would I." Tarak said.

******

Chandramukhi had fallen in love with Devdas too. And when her eyes expressed the loss of her heart Praan and Taral shook their heads.

Praan leaned over to Taral's side and whispered, "What misfortune to be loved by two women yet be unfortunately incapable of being with either of the two."

Someone shushed him from ahead.

Yet, Taral commented in a hushed tone, "True. It is the ladies' misfortune as well to have fallen in love with a man they couldn't be with."

They exchanged a look as if to sympathise with the characters but somewhere it was their souls that were empathising with each other.

*****

The entire Royal Talkies was experiencing a pin drop silence when Devdas was taking his last breaths. Paro, upon learning about his condition was hurrying to get one last glimpse of the man she had loved but before she could do so the gates closed to symbolise the society's restrictions that barred a married woman from meeting the man she loved.

The spectators sighed. Praan sighed too.

Taral looked at Praan and meeting his eyes, confirming Praan's intuition about his optimism, said,

"Maybe in the next lifetime?"

The words shouldn't have held so much weight. They shouldn't have brought a sea of relief to Praan's heart but they did.

He smiled, nodding, as he dared to hope, "Maybe in the next lifetime."