The Invictus

This is a story i am writing even as I conjure up the plot...This is meant to be a movie that I have half a mind to make (uggh, only a half-mind would want to make this)...not any other movie, but a real arty sharty types....So, if you are rich, have some money to throw around AND also read this story, feel free to finance this movie for me!

You need to imagine this not as a story but as a corny movie script (and if my financier insists, please note there is more than enuff scope to add porn too)...Ok, here it goes...

************
Scene 1: [Dark background, no images, only sound]

Tak tak tak tak tak...(knocking on the door)
"Bhai saab", a sweet feminine voice.

(silence)

Tak tak tak tak tak...(few more knocks)

"Bhai saab....koi hain?"

creeekiyooon....(Creeking sound of a chair, someone getting up)

he he he...evil chuckles...followed by sounds of footsteps...

(silence)

"aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

(Blood curdling screams)

*************
[Titles & credits come up]

[Disclaimer: Not all characters described in this story are fictional, and any resemblance to any man/woman/others, living, dead or otherwise, is mostly unintentional]

************
Scene 2: [cut to a shot of a house - not an apartment, but an out-house in a chawl]

I am sitting in my one-room house..yes its nothing more than a house...its not my home..strange, considering I have lived here in this very room for the last 5 years...hmmm...last 5 years...now that I think of it, it was 1985 June when we moved in..Did I say "We"? Yes, we were a recently married couple - Kamala & I..

Kamalanayani Jumanji (or KJ, in short) came from a rather rich family of zamindars..I was their Munshi's son..and our love had not known the great divide that existed between us, and on her 22nd birthday, KJ and I had eloped...and had come to Bombay..to this house, that we wanted to make our home...

The first few days of marriage was as usual bliss...I had managed to find a job as an accountant in ashi-yana textiles at a salary of Rs.500. we were more concerned about warding off all traces or evidence of our new existence from the angry eyes of my father-in-law (Badasaheb Jumanji, and nothing in short)..For 3 months and 13 days, I used to be scared, every single day, of coming back home from work, dreading the prospect of having BJ at home...

It was september 24th...I remember that evening very clearly...

******************
Scene 3: FLASHBACK [Black & White shot, rain lashing out as if to prove monsoon is still not dead]

It is 8:30PM and am returning home..and the rains, oh, when will these rains ever stop...look, my trousers are totally wet, and am holding a plastic cover over my head, while simulataneously trying to cover my shirt pocket...I bought that Gold ring that Kamala has been fighting with me for..Yes, we have been fighting for sometime now...Today, I finally managed to take a loan from the broker for this ring...I know this will surely be the last time anybody would lend me any money. Not before I repay their earlier loans..But today, I will also end our fights...I will give Kamala her ring...

[Flashes of lightening, and claps of thunder]

Door to the house is open, and there's no Kamala anywhere...wait, there's a note..

"I have decided to put an end to our agony. We both have not been happy with this marriage. And we both know it. I have lived in a life of comforts, and today I find my situation deplorable..I know you work hard and all that, but, I dont wanna burden you any further. I am leaving.

Goodbye forever.

Kamala

PS: I met the man of my dreams, your friend Atmaram Chandramouli (AC)."

[Camera zooms to a shot from above....open door, rain and wind lashing outside, curtains flying all over..and the hero in the centre of the room...letter slips from his hand, and flies away, carried away by the wind]

[END OF FLASHBACK]

*************
Scene 3 / Act 1: [cut back to the room, to the present, to color, minus the rain]

I am sitting by the window. And watching the world go by. Maybe I am still looking out for Kamala, hoping she would somehow pass by this same window...not because i miss her...because I can ask her why she did this to me...yes! I want to put this knife to her throat and ask her...and then have the pleasure of slowly slicing her throat...Wouldn't that be a joyful sight!!!:-)))

**************
Scene 3 / Act 2:

Tak tak tak tak tak (Knocking on the door)

"Post", the postman shouts out...

Tak tak tak tak tak...(few more knocks)

"Bhai saab....koi hain?"

creeekiyooon....(Creeking sound of a chair, someone getting up)

he he he...evil chuckles...followed by sounds of footsteps...

(silence)

"aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

(Blood curdling screams)

**************
Scene 3 / Act 3:

I hate people. I hate people who knock on my door..And it almost always Postmen bringing me some bills or the other...its always one bill or the other..maybe i expect a letter from my kamala...maybe i expect an explanation to the questions that echo in my head...but no, its always the bills. And always the postman...No matter how many I kill, a new one always shows up..And this one was my 5th...and like the 3 other postmen like him, he had to die..What could I do? I had to kill him...Do i enjoy killing them? No, but it was their fault! They know i hate bills, yet....I think they are all sent by my evil father-in-law, BJ....Yes, its him! and sometimes he sends not only postmen, but also people in disguises...like the other day, when I had to open the door to that wretched woman who pretended to want some Sugar or tea-powder...Of course, i had to kill her too..All of them, a clean slice of their throat!!!but not before i enjoyed severing them - piece by piece..I first cut their feet...and when they start screaming, i shove the feet in their mouth....and then i slowly and deliberately slice off their left arm...and slap their face with it...and then i make them beg me for mercy...oh! I love the look of helplessness in their eyes!!but not for long, cos soon those helpless eyes will become helpless when I gouge them out...aaahhhh! the smell of blood as it sprays forth from those hollows of the eyes!!!!.and then after 3 minutes, 13 seconds of bleeding, I will finally start to slice their throat......

ha ha ha...

**************
Scene 4 / Act 1:

Tak tak tak tak tak (Knocking on the door)

"Post", the postman shouts out...

Tak tak tak tak tak...(few more knocks)

"Bhai saab....koi hain?"

creeekiyooon....(Creeking sound of a chair, someone getting up)

he he he...evil chuckles...followed by sounds of footsteps...

(silence)

"aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

(Blood curdling screams)

**************
Scene 4 / Act 2:

Damn, bills and bills..always those bills....Kill Bills!

**************
Scene 5:

Tak tak tak tak tak...(knocking on the door)

"Bhai saab", a sweet feminine voice.

(silence)

Tak tak tak tak tak...(few more knocks)

"Bhai saab....koi hain?"

creeekiyooon....(Creeking sound of a chair, someone getting up)

he he he...evil chuckles...followed by sounds of footsteps...

(silence)

"aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

(Blood curdling screams)

************

Scene 6: [cut to a shot of a house - not an apartment, but an out-house in a chawl]

Wiping the blood off the knife and the hands, I come out of the kitchen...happy, smiling...for the man who never let me or my husband live in peace...even after we had moved out of his house, even after we were no more his tenants...the hounding, the fear...no more..cos today, the fear is no more...

[Title appears]

Mrs. Kamala Mouli.