It wasn’t a typical Bollywood prayer meet. While a few of the movie stars tweeted and expressed their grief on the sad demise of Basu Da, none of those stars showed any interest in attending the prayer meet of one of the most acclaimed directors of his times. A few news channels did flash the news of his demise, but none of them were covering the prayer meet like they usually do.

As a few yesteryear actors, most of them either groomed or launched by Basu Da, expressed their condolences towards Basu Da’s son Amitesh, there was a sudden buzz around. A premium SUV had just driven in, and the few photographers who were present at the funeral site were quick to guess who would be stepping out from that SUV - Urmila, the Diva, the superstar.

The moment she stepped out, the entire fleet of photographers gravitated towards her almost magically. Her bodyguards helped her dodge the photographers and make her way in. As the photographers receded disappointed, an auto made its way in, without much noise. A woman in her late 30s alighted from the auto, paid the fare, and made her way past the photographers. She did for a moment feel that the photographers, at least one or two of them might recognise her, but she was kind of relieved she was wrong. None of them did.

“Bhumika? Is that you? It’s been so many years since we last met.” Basu Da’s long-time assistant Bimal Da was the first one to recognise Bhumika - once a queen of parallel cinema, now lost in the oblivion of anonymity. Bhumika wasn’t in the state of mind to say anything, She just smiled hesitantly and found a chair in a corner to pay her last respects to Basu Da.


“Are you crazy? They haven’t even spoken to each other for the past 15 years, and you want to bring them together?” Urmila’s PA Shantanu couldn’t believe what Amitesh had just asked for.

“I will convince Bhumika. All I want you to do is…Shantanu, this is about Baba’s last wish. It can’t go unheard.” Amitesh was almost in tears.

“Thanks, Shantanu, Urmila, and Bhumika for being here to listen to Baba’s final wish.” Amitesh gathered himself, glanced at Shantanu, smiled and then went on to read a letter Basu Da had left for Urmila and Bhumika. The letter mentioned how Basu Da was proud of his discoveries - Urmila and Bhumika. Basu Da in his letter then went on to express how Urmila’s sudden shift from parallel to commercial cinema has broken his heart, and how he felt sad, though indebted to Bhumika for staying committed to her craft, despite not achieving fame and money the way Urmila did. His final wish was to bring them together for a movie that would bridge the gap between parallel and commercial cinema, and would earn equal recognition for both. This, he said, was his Guru Dakshina.
“The title of the movie is Antardwand. I have already printed the copies of the script... if of course, you both would agree to act in it.” Amitesh pointed at a pile of papers lying on the table.

Bhumika looked at Urmila. Urmila perhaps realised a look was waiting for her response, but the anguish inside her must have forced her to not look in that direction. Amitesh too was eagerly waiting for a reaction. Urmila got up from her chair, went up to Amitesh, held his hand and took his leave. Amitesh looked at Shantanu in anticipation.
“She is not someone who will take a decision instantly. Give her some time. I am positive she will say yes.” Amitesh was somewhat relieved. Now, it was Bhumika’s turn to respond to the last wish of her mentor.
“I will do it for Basu Da. I owe him.” Amitesh held her hand tight, in a way to express his gratitude.

Urmila poured a whiskey for herself and stared at the walls. She was surrounded by expensive paintings, luxury furniture, and a showcase full of awards; awards she had mostly bought or bargained for. Somehow, she couldn’t help but reminisce about the good old days, when she had just begun her acting journey under the guidance of Basu Da, and in the company of her co-actor Bhumika, who then went on to become her confidante, and later, a rival. Urmila could never digest the fact that it was Bhumika who won several national awards, and Urmila had to do away with just the fan following and the money. She wanted it all, recognition, money, fame, fans… everything!

“What on earth did I do wrong? Was it my fault if my work was recognised and awarded at the National level? How could Urmila lose it with a few drinks and allege publicly that I must have bought those awards? Didn’t she think I was good enough? She has fame, money, fans…what do I have today? Nothing!” Bhumika was lying on the bed in her tiny room, her eyes fixated on the ceiling. For a moment she wanted to hold her National awards close to her chest and cry, only to realise she had pawned the last award left with her. She wanted one more award, one she would never lose again. She wanted to fulfill her mentor’s last wish. She wanted her lost friend back. She picked up her phone and dialed Urmila’s number, only to be disappointed with the automated voice at the other end informing her the number was incorrect.


“Fuck! Why the hell doesn’t it stop ringing?” Urmila was fuming at the 43rd notification on her phone. 38 of them from a big-time producer she had been working with for the last 7-8 projects.
The latest notification read - I will destroy your career. What’s it finally? A yes or a no?

Urmila threw away her phone in frustration. As she buried her head in a pillow and wept like a widow, she realised her heart was racing, and some unavoidable burden was pressing down on her chest. She imagined herself caged amidst those awards in her showcase. She realised she had to set herself free. She had to return where she belonged, to her mentor, to the craft that made her what she was, her first love. She gathered herself, with a strong resolve to end her suffering at once. She picked up the phone, took screenshots of those demeaning and threatening messages, and posted them on her social media handles. She texted Amitesh next and told him she would bring Basu Da’s last script to life. And then, she dialed Bhumika’s number.

Bhumika’s phone was buried under a pillow beneath her head. And on her chest, a hungry customer had buried his lustful face, her hands held so tight, she couldn’t even move them to pick up her phone and see that a window had opened, to free her from her misery. The phone kept screaming, and so did… Bhumika.