Flames OF Paradise - Season 1 - Episode 3

7 years ago

Flames OF Paradise - Season 1 - Episode 3

Dimple was rubbing her hands with anticipation and then said, ‘later. First out with the news!’
So Snigdha decided to let the cat out of the bag.
‘Do you remember when I had told you about my new script?’
‘The one on Kashmir?’
‘Yeah! Well not on Kashmir per se, but the terrorism in Kashmir valley.’
‘Comes to the same thing!’ Dimple quipped.
‘Come on Dimple. It’s not the same but I am not going to waste my breath explaining the real picture.
Well Nitin had asked me to submit my first copy to Triple Eye Communications. Triple Eye’s productions regularly feature on all leading satellite channels for documentaries like Discovery, Natgeo, BBC, Channel 4, etc. I followed his advice. Do you know what happened? It was not only accepted, but they want to outsource the film to me. I am the official producer/director of my own script, ‘Flames of Paradise’ to be shot and directed by me and my team! I can’t tell you how excited and happy I am.’
‘But it’s not possible! You are a Cinematographer not a Director. You don’t know a thing about direction!
‘Hullo? I have written the full script myself after doing research for months. And learnt everything about direction during my Masters course at the Film Institute.’
‘OK OK… I was just pulling your leggie sweety!’ Dimple dimpled and continued, ‘I am so happy for you.
But how does it concern me?’
‘You? Well… I was thinking that the person from whose point of view the story will be told, could be you, I mean the narrator.’ Noticing the stunned surprise on Dimple’s face Snigdha continued, ‘Well if you are not interested, I can…’ Snigdha said tongue in cheek.
You idiot! Why didn’t you tell me this before? Of course I will do it. After all where will you get such a ravishing, smart, intelligent…’
‘OK! Stop blowing your own trumpet! First I have to suggest your name to Nitin, then a screen test will happen and then… ’
‘Nitin? That high and mighty fella? I can twist him around my little finger anytime. Just give me 15 minutes with him!’ Dimple snapped her fingers.
No way! Keep your little finger intact and to yourself. And quit using casting couch techniques! I will talk to him.’ Snigdha said teasingly.
‘Do you fancy him yourself?’ Dimple asked with mock suspicion.
‘Shut up Dimple! When will you ever get serious? Look at this letter! I’ve been invited for a final talk with the production house on Monday. It seems they want the project to start next month. So, now you just have to wait for the green signal from me. Till then polish yourself for the Screen Test! Get your spas and hair dos or whatever you need to do!’
‘OK… if you say… but I was getting excited to meet Nitin the hunk! He’s so dark and mysterious… !’ Dimple was now smiling wistfully.
Dimple!’ Snigdha looked at her bubbly friend Dimple’s wistful expression and felt like shaking her up. Dimple was an incorrigible romantic regardless of some really bad busted relationships in her past.Yet her innate romantic streak remained intact making her vulnerable.

‘Okay! My lips are sealed… for now!’ Dimple winked. ‘Going to make somemasala tea. Want some?’
After Dimple left, Snigdha still felt bursting with excitement as if she wanted to share this news with someone else. She did not want to tell her mom so soon as she knew she would panic at the thought of her going to Kashmir. Maybe she could call up her sister Sumedha? But resisting the urge to bore all and sundry with the details till she had signed the contract, she switched on the T.V and started surfing the channels, Sit Coms, Fashion T.V., daily soaps and finally settled down to a news channel watching some dramatic news about the caving in of a roof of a school in Mumbai, injuring hundreds of children, with no casualties. The shrieking voices of the parents, the panic-ridden reporting, the shots of the debris and the non committal bytes of the local politicians, all washing over her, making her restless. She hit the power off button on the remote, getting up. Hearing a rumbling in her stomach, Snigdha knew it was her dinner time, as she ate before 8pm. Strolling inside her small compact kitchen, she opened her fridge and rummaged inside to take out some salad, brown bread and cheese to make a hearty sandwich.Pulling a bottle of cold water,Snigdha suddenly remembered her Mom’s concerned voice complaining about her eating habits, last time she had visited her in Pachmari, where her Dad and Mom resided after her Dad’s retirement from army. Her Mom didn’t like one iota her habit of munching on sandwiches, slurping noodles and pasta or grabbing a hot dog from the nearest mall. But her no nonsense cool dude of a Dad, calmed her Mom’s fiery temper by reminding her that Snigdha is an adult and knows how to look after herself. Gulping the last bite of her sandwich and taking a few more swigs of cool water, Snigdha walked towards the balcony of the one bedroom flat. It had started drizzling which was not a common sight in Delhi at this time of the year, yet nothing could match the misty drizzle and cloudy weather of Pachmari nearly all year round. Snigdha reminisced the times she had visited Pachmari, just few hours from Bhopal, the capital of Madhya Pradesh. Sitting on the huge verandah of her Dad’s bunglow, was her favourite past time, sipping tea and watching the mistiness enveloping the rolling hills, the serpentine roads just in front of the house, slick with dampness and the air sharp and tangy with the smell of rains mixed with the heady fragrance of the abundant ferns around. Pachmari had always been Snigdha’s favourite haunt where she could unwind and relax.

Heaving a sigh, Snigdha remembered the care-free days when her family used to visit the place during holidays,