章節 6: ch-6
Chapter 6: A Routine of Dreams
The morning sun filtered through the curtains as Suraj stood by the window, watching Aryan climb onto the school bus. He waved with a small smile, knowing his little brother was growing more independent by the day. Yet, despite Aryan's growing maturity, there was still an unspoken bond between them, one forged from the shared loss of their parents. As the bus disappeared down the street, Suraj turned his focus back to his task at hand—the script that had been consuming his every thought.
Living in Mumbai had always felt natural for Suraj, especially considering their family's deep ties to the film industry. In this version of the world, Bollywood was still a dominant force, and Mumbai remained the heart of it all. This city buzzed with energy, and even though their family's production company, Mythic Productions, was struggling, the potential for revival still loomed large in Suraj's mind.
He sat down at his desk, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. The script, based on the vivid movie that played out in his dreams, was slowly taking shape. He could see it all in his mind—the retired commando, the dangerous pursuit, the heart-wrenching decisions. Suraj was determined to bring this story to life. It was more than just a movie to him—it was a chance to save the company, to fulfill his parents' legacy, and to provide a future for Aryan.
Hours passed as Suraj immersed himself in the world he was creating. The clattering of keys filled the room, his focus unwavering. The story poured out of him with a mixture of excitement and desperation, as if the words themselves were a lifeline to his family's survival. But all that focus came with a cost—he barely noticed the passage of time or the small moments happening around him.
By the time Aryan came home from school, Suraj was still deep in concentration. Aryan, ever mindful of his older brother's new commitment, didn't disturb him. Instead, he quietly sat down at the dining table, working on his homework with the same diligence that Suraj had been applying to his script.
Eventually, the tapping of the keyboard slowed, and Suraj leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. He needed a break. Stretching his stiff limbs, he stepped out of his makeshift writing room and into the living area, where he found Aryan hunched over his books.
"Hey, Aryan," Suraj said, smiling softly as he watched his little brother scribbling away. "Doing homework, huh? How's it going?"
Aryan looked up, grinning at his brother's attention. "Yeah, Bhaiya. Almost done!"
Suraj chuckled and ruffled Aryan's hair. "Good job, kid. Let me get dinner started."
As Suraj moved to the kitchen, he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth. Despite everything, these simple moments of normalcy brought a sense of peace to their lives. The soft clinking of utensils and the smell of spices filled the air as Suraj prepared dinner, while Aryan quietly finished his homework in the background.
After a while, Aryan joined him in the kitchen, helping set the table. They shared a few lighthearted conversations and even a few laughs. Aryan had a way of bringing out the best in Suraj, reminding him that life wasn't just about responsibilities, but about the joy that came from spending time with family.
Dinner was a quiet, peaceful affair. They ate together, enjoying each other's company. Aryan, as usual, went to bed early, exhausted from school and the day's activities. Suraj tucked him in, feeling a deep sense of protectiveness. Aryan had been through so much, yet he handled everything with such quiet resilience. Suraj vowed once more to be the guardian his little brother needed.
Once Aryan was asleep, Suraj returned to his work. He was filled with a strange urgency, as if the script was demanding his attention, pulling him back into the world of the bloody commando. He worked on it for another hour or so before exhaustion finally set in. His eyes drooped, and his mind wandered as he drifted off to sleep.
When Suraj opened his eyes, he found himself back in the same old rusty theatre. It had become a familiar sight now, with its creaky seats and dim lighting. He could almost predict what would happen next—the projector would flicker to life, and the movie Bloody Commando would begin once again.
It had become routine. Night after night, Suraj would find himself here, watching the same movie unfold before his eyes. The story of Arjun, the retired army commando, played out as vividly as ever. He had seen it 15 times by now, but it still gripped him with the same intensity as the first viewing. The action, the drama, the emotional stakes—they were all perfect, and yet Suraj couldn't help but feel restless.
"Why am I seeing the same thing over and over?" he muttered to himself, leaning back in his seat. He had hoped that, by now, a new movie would start, but each night it was the same.
As the film reached its usual bloody climax, Suraj grew impatient. When the final scene played, with the mysterious tattooed man cutting off fingers for every unanswered question, Suraj stood up from his seat.
"Enough!" he called out to the empty theater. "When will the next movie start?"
For a moment, there was silence. Then, the screen flickered, and words appeared in bold letters:
"Until this cinema is created, there will be no next movie."
Suraj stood there, staring at the message. His heart raced, and a chill ran down his spine. There was something more to this dream than he had realized. The answer had always been right in front of him—he had to complete this script. Only then would the story move forward.
With that realization, the theater around him faded, and Suraj woke up with a start. He sat upright in bed, the weight of the message pressing down on him. The dreams weren't just random—they were pushing him toward something. His responsibility wasn't just to watch this story play out; he had to create it.
Suraj took a deep breath, his mind buzzing with the urgency of the task ahead. It was time to finish what he had started.
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