Something in everything
The disciple wasn’t happy.
There’s nothing in the film, he thought. He was almost to quit the
film hall with the master. It was a western crime thriller, and the
master looked thrilled!
“What are you so unhappy about, son?” Master inquired. Half a smile
in the face.
“I wonder the film is all worthy of its two hours.” Disciple’s tone
cynical.
“But I think it is inspirational to some people.” Master returned
quietly, “Look at this fellow making notes. He’s totally unaware of
people leaving the hall.”
“He must be a good-for-nothing critic writing every nonsense to his
daily correspondent.” The disciple was highly incensed.
The ‘critic’ looked up. “Oh! I’m no critic young man,” he said
smiling, “pardon me for eavesdropping, but I was trying to fit in some
of this film’s incidents to my next novel.”
“But what good is that!” The disciple couldn’t help himself, “There’s
absolutely nothing in it!”
“Yes, to people who only run after intellectual works.” Master looked
stern, his voice cold. “I’d like to introduce you the most acclaimed
crime and horror novelist of our country, Mr. Deeman Ananda!”
“Oh sir, I’ve read quite a lot of you.” The disciple sounded
apologetic, but quivering with excitement. “My friends appreciate your
works very much.”
“So good to hear!” the plump figured beamed. “Usually, I write crime
thrillers for the common and less-educated people to enjoy.” His eyes
shining, “So Master, I’m very glad to see you again!”
“My highest pleasure, too! This is my disciple.” Master nodded at the
disciple “We are together on a literary excavation. He was wondering
what sort of inspiration you’ve got from this film full of bloodshed…”
Ananda’s eyes glistened once again, “There’s a beast in all of us” He
winked at the master, “And, I suppose, this beast likes blood!”
Master nodded, the disciple had to nod, too!
“And we hide this beast, we try to control it. At least we have
to…..”
“But I’ve observed in most of your stories evil gets punished somehow
at last.” The disciple butted in.
“That’s exactly what I was saying, I do not write for academics and I
cannot do that. So I always try to wrest out some kind of a moral
message in my works, common people need that!”
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Deeman Ananda |
“And it’s very convincing as well.” Master chipped in, “Your simple
narrative style creating suspense always add weight to the moral. How
cunning you are, you can’t get away with injustice, crimes and
bloodshed!”
The disciple looked startled, “Do you also read crime thrillers,
Master?”
“I do, there’s always something in everything!” Master turned to
energetic old face. “I’m sorry; they still accuse you of writing down
the whole movies.”
“You know that I do not, that’s enough! They even accuse me saying I
copy bulks from Agatha Christie and Hadley Chase. But I only draw
inspiration. I do not reproduce their works, I only adapt.”
“I’m sure” the disciple meant all curiosity, “That you must have
derived something out of this film as well.”
“Not exactly yet. I still need to reflect on it. I heard people
applaud in joy. It means they enjoyed it. I noted down their remarks.
They inspire too. But you know, I can’t simply re-tell the film. I need
to take the essence and use it my own, besides giving a moral.”
“Son, we have to take leave” The ever-disciplined master had to say,
“Excuse us Deeman, we have to catch the last bus home. It’s wonderful
seeing you here!”
“I’ll send you a copy of this piece I am working on soon as I finish
it.” Ananda promised. “See you once again!”
Both master and the disciple had to run to catch the bus. In the bus,
they felt a pang inside them, they both knew they are unlucky enough to
miss the dream writer Ananda had immense hopes on.
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