"Cut!" came the scream. The camera stopped rolling.
"What is this, Rams Sir?", the director wiped the sweat off his forehead and approached Ramanathan. "You are a veteran and do I need to teach you? That was the sixth take. What happened?"
The thespian cringed. This has never happened to him earlier. Even the most difficult shots were child's play for him thus far. Of course, this has never happened before because this is his first film. But certainly this is not the first time he is in front of the camera!
"What happened Rams sir - are you unwell or something?"
'Yes, what happened?' he wondered. 'It is perhaps the migraine caused by that 5th drink of yesternight'. He usually stops with three, but yesterday was different. He wracked his brains to remember what was different. The migraine only seemed to worsen and so he left it at that. 'Or is it because of the single Brahmin he encountered while leaving the house the morning? Probably the latter'. 'No, no,' now he remembered - it had something to do with Lakshmi....
" Sorry, Sir." "Just one more take. I promise I will do fine this time".
The director let out a sigh of frustration. "Look sir, this is a small-budget film and the schedule is just for 20 days. I just can't afford wasting any more celluloid. But why does not your hand come down with more force? Even a child artiste can do better. Remember you are beating the wife, not patting her back for her fluffy idlis. Just imagine the lady is your wife and you are fed up of her and want to get rid of her. Just for a moment imagine that she again starts her bitching and you've had enough and you can't control yourself any more. Just imagine this is your real-life scenario....."
...Ah, yes, real-life scenario. Exactly why the shot has to be retaken the sixth time. How many times I have done this effortlessly in real-life! Did I need any rehearsal in real life for wife-beating? Did I need a stranger to direct me on how to thrash the wife? Ah, yes, the real life. Which is much easier. The reel-life before a camera is much clumsier. Why? That wretched thing called conscience. You are much more comfortable in the dark. Before the lights, you need to act, you need to simulate and the comfort is gone. What comes by nature is comfortable, what does not is a chore, a grind. The miserable conscience rears its ugly head. And sneers at me and asks -' is this not what you do every day? Why not do it for profit now?'
The shot was canned with great difficulty. The director's countenance told that it was not 100% okay but he had to make do with whatever wife-beating Parameswaran had to offer. Too late to change the cast now. The producer had clarified in no uncertain terms that 25 lacs is the budget and for that sum there is only so much wife- beating one can create on the screen....
Ramanathan exited the bungalow and started looking for an auto. And then changed his mind. Home is not very far away. Why not walk? That will at least soothe the nerves, apart from saving a hundred bucks. He started walking. The evening sea-breeze of Injambakkam was conspicuous by its absence. The air was sultry and a strip of lightning illuminated the eastern horizon.
'How many times I have done this to Lakshmi? Then why did I falter today? Why even yesterday she had it from me. For the tasteless sambar she proferred for dinner. Will any dog touch that Sambar? No salt, no spice, no nothing. She asked for it and she got it.
'Why does she not learn ever? It has become a habit for her, I guess. Unless she gets her daily quota of bashing, she can't sleep. What a bitch! Does she expect me to beat her up every time, every day, even for trifles? Don't I have anything else to do? I am a busy man, what with assignments in three TV serials, all shooting at the same time, and with a cinema chance now to boot. A new character actor for the film world. What does she think she is?'
The train of thoughts was interrupted by a flash of lightning and thunder. Ramanathan hastened his steps. Rain started immediately and in a moment, he was drenched. Umbrellas suddenly sprang up all over the road from nowhere. He did not have one. He sprinted across the street and took shelter in a small provision shop. There was a three feet awning protruding at the front and already eleven people stood crammed underneath. The owner was not pleased with his shop completely blocked from view. He thought for a second that he should ask everyone to scoot, then looked at the heavy downpour, realised the futility of his plan and grudgingly chose to keep silent
Ramanathan resumed his ruminating.
'Not that I do not love Lakshmi. But for her, where would I go? Most important, where would I eat, the tasteless Sambar notwithstanding? I can't even make a cup of tea on my own. It is not my fault that I beat her up daily. Even after 25 years of marriage, she remains the same idiot that she was when I wed her. You can shout, bark and spit on her face but not a single word would come out of her mouth. You can as well shout at a wall made of stone. She can be bloody stubborn like hell when she wishes. I fling with full force a volley of abuse at her, it will hit her, and just dissipate, as if dissolving upon impact! Nothing would rebound from the stone statue!
'But doing the act before a rolling camera is quite a task. For one, the part who played my wife is not my real wife (what if he gives her a taste of his long hand and she hits back with a longer one?), in the scene, she reacts to all my shouting and even argues back! The gall! Quite unlike Lakshmi. A bitch of another variety!
There was also a mild prick of conscience somewhere on the chest. A conscience which tells that wife-beating is well, not acceptable, never mind the tasteless Sambar. It was this slight jab Ramanathan began ruminating on. He has not felt any such thing in the past. Then why should it today? 'May be I am growing older. It's may be because of the reel-world Lakshmi I had to beat before the cameras today'. What a difference? The asli Lakshmi does not retaliate and is placidity personified. The screen-wali Lakshmi is a screaming, scheming shrew. Ah, this is it. Now Ramanathan realised the truth - he was constantly whipping a hapless, voiceless soul. Shame on him. So this is your idea of manliness? This is your cowardly bravery, directed at a helpless victim?
Ramanathan made up his mind. Okay, he would not openly apologise, say sorry or take home some Malligaippoo (jasmine) and Halwa for his better half (not such cinematic stuff for him, his age keeps him reminding). But atleast he will stop clobbering her around. Even if his bloated ego can't allow him to mouth endearing nothings, at least no abuse would emanate from him. He would learn to respect his wife more, learn to love his wife more and in short, learn to be a better husband. The tasteless Sambar notwithstanding.
The lightning strikes were more frequent now. Thunder deafened him momentarily. The rain was pouring in torrents now. He found himself all drenched. His wet shirt stuck to his body. Suddenly it was very hot and humid despite the rain. It was getting increasingly uncomfortable. At that precise moment, he woke up from his dream.....
End of the dream
.......At that precise moment, he woke up from his dream. He could not for a moment visualise where he was. The electricity had gone. He was perspiring. His sweaty vest clung to his body. Workers were operating a pile-foundation machine in the plot next to his house. Each thud of the boring machine sounded like thunder. So that explains the thunder. It was 2 p.m. on a Sunday. With a start, he remembered his schedule for the TV shoot slated for 3 p.m. He panicked, got up and rushed to wash his face. Lakshmi, his wife, proferred a cup of coffee. With an uncontrollable rage, Ramanathan flung it with all his might onto the wall. The coffee stainless steel tumbler crashed to the floor making a loud, ringing noise. The brew lay splattered all over the white wall. His fury not subsiding, for good measure, Ramanathan slapped Lakshmi with full force.
" Idiot, did not I tell you that I have a 3 p.m. shoot? And I have to go to Anna nagar all the way. It's already two. You fool, why did not you wake me up?"
Lakshmi showed no emotion, neither pain. 25 years of cohabiting with this animal has inured her to everything it could throw at her. "but I thought I should not disturb...," she ventured feebly. Ramanathan raised his hand for another slap but then realised he was now hard-pressed for time.The second slap can wait till the night. For now, he has to rush to the TV shoot. Hurriedly he dressed and stormed off.
In the auto, Parameswaran recalled the strange dream. Strange and impossible dream. Strange, because he was actually dreaming of being kind and considerate to Lakshmi after returning home. 'With this dunce, it is impossible to even think about being kind and considerate. Look at what she did today. Not waking me up on time and here I am, rushing like mad. If I miss today's call-sheet, the director would definitely throw me out. So many character-artistes are around now. Competition is stiff. There will be atleast a score who will don the grease paint and play the Appa part for a pittance. All because of Lakshmi, the idiot. I will surely teach her a lesson after returning at night' The dream was also impossible because he was shooting for a film in it. Well, his cinematic ambition will forever remain a dream and would be buried with him when he dies. He started off his film career as an assistant director at the age of 25 and remained so for another 10 years. Then he tried his hands at script writing. Did not see much success there too. Remained assisting the real script writers (whose names appeared in the film credits) for another 10 years. That was when he got a role from an old acquaintance for playing a father in a tear-jerker TV soap. That role met with some moderate success and it ran for 104 weeks. The mega-serial was titled Adhirshtam (luck/providence) and he changed his name to Adhirshtam Ramanathan. The luck stuck only to his name but steered clear of anywhere close to his life. He barely managed to get roles in TV serials nowadays, all father roles, but somehow managed to eke out a living out of that. He has not many mouths to feed, except for that limpet Lakshmi and his own. He also had no vices, atleast none money-guzzling, save for the occasional swig of whiskey. He had a son who, at the age of 20, ran away from the house. Nothing heard from him since then. Some gave the news that he was seen wandering as a monk in Tiruvannamalai. Some said he is now a rich businessman in distant Mumbai. Ramanathan did not care. He was not particularly fond of his son till he was twenty and his running away made not much of a difference to his fondness-quotient.
The auto was wading through traffic, still heavy for a Sunday afternoon. He frequently kept glancing at his watch with nervousness. The blistering sun outside did not help matters. Hot air blowed as if in a desert and scalded his face constantly. He again glanced at his watch. Only ten minutes to three and here he was, caught in a jam. He cursed under his breath and implored the driver to hurry up. The driver was beginning to lose his patience with this madcap. Minutes were rushing by. The driver somehow managed to overtake from the left a bus and finding an opening, revved up the throttle. The auto vroomed ahead. All of a sudden, the car in front braked and to avoid a collision, the driver swerved to the left. He lost his balance and the auto turned turtle. Ramanathan screamed and fell to his left with a thud, out of the vehicle. All went black for a moment. And then he woke up from his dream and opened his eyes.
End of the dream, again
And then he woke up from his dream and opened his eyes. Ramanathan's head spinned and he momentarily lost his orientation. 'Where am I?' Just then he realised that he had fallen off his cot. The bedroom door led to an open terrace, from where hot air was blowing in. Ramanathan remembered where he was and now tried to valiantly recollect the day and time. It slowly came to him. It should be a Sunday. 'But why is it very hot outside?' Again with some effort, it came to him. Ah, yes, he went to sleep at midnight last day, after returning from the TV shoot. He entered with a spare key, as he did not want to disturb Lakshmi....
And then reality struck him. And with that, horror. He was supposed to take her to her mother's house this morning. He completely forgot about it. In any case, he was too tired and thus overslept. But now terror completely engulfed him. 'What excuse can he give Lakshmi now...' He was mulling various options, which seemed not too many. Sure enough, he started hearing the footsteps and Lakshmi's bulky figure entered the room. How Ramanathan wished the earth would break and gobble him up ! But for that he had to wait for another dream. Now reality sunk in and it sunk in in the form of a full- palmed slap on his right cheek.
"So Dorai is too tired? What time is it now, you realise, you fool?"
Ramanathan looked blankly at the wall. Lakshmi came near and he involuntarily cowered and covered his face in a foetal position. But Lakshmi had other plans. She picked up a particularly weighty book from the shelf and flung at him. Even as he was crouched covering his face, the tome struck him right on his balding head. The room started spinning. It took a while for Lakshmi to be done with. As she finished for now, after 15 minutes, the end result was a swollen eye, a lump on the head and a torn banian for Ramanathan. Even while at work, Lakshmi, as always, frequently kept reminding him about how entirely worthless Ramanathan is, how utterly incompetent to bring home even ten thousand bucks a month, how it is because of her family's help she is running the household, how worthless he is as a person, impotent (powerless, she meant) as a husband, how others have managed to grab film roles and he has remained a small time TV actor for all these 25 years etc. etc.
Ramanathan waited for the storm to subside, at least temporarily. He knew it would restart at night. But that was 10 hours away and 10 hours seemed eons away. He badly needed to recoup and recharge for the onslaught at night. For the present, he was content to wash the clothes, do the dishes and cut the vegetables for dinner. He always took care to stay as far away from his wife as possible and it was a god-send for him when she announced that she is off to her parents' house now and would be back by 9 p.m. and he better clean up the house and prepare the dinner by then. Ramanathan nodded and escorted her up to the door. It almost seemed like a dream, this respite of 4 hours in a house sans Lakshmi.
He briefly thought about his dreams or rather the dream within a dream. Doubt suddenly overtook him and he pinched himself. It hurt. As did the lump on the head and the swollen eye. He was hugely relieved. 'Thank God, now this is not a dream. 7 hours without Lakshmi is a reality. Waking up from the first dream, he had lost his cine-fame. Waking up from the second, he had gained bliss! He chuckled and slowly went about the task of preparing dinner.He knew what was lying in store 7 hours hence, after Lakshmi would taste the Sambar. All hell will break loose and he would probably have a bath in Sambar late night.
Nevertheless, it was bliss for Adhirshtam Ramanathan, the tasteless bland Sambar he would concoct and dare to serve Lakshmi notwithstanding. We will leave him with his day dreaming now for the next 7 hours and let's disturb him no more.
