Instinctive

[An Assemblage of  Five Screenplays]

The Blind:

It was raining incessantly in Masinagudi forest. From the forest guest house, I saw a little boy, in torn pants and no shirt, running out of his small hut. He gleefully stretched his hands forward to capture as many raindrops as he could. There was a lopsided smile on his face when he started counting the number of raindrops he could hold on his palms. Perhaps, he was smitten by his own success. Soon after, when the raindrops became denser and heavier, there was a notable hint of grief on his face. He was morose for the drops he failed to capture. I smiled, and approached him with my camera on. On looking at each of his missed out drops, I was observing their gradual burial on earth. It seemed, those drops were mourning too for missing out the touch of his soft palms. The boy grew inquisitive with his crumpled eyebrows since he was not being able to follow the direction from where the drops would hit his palms. I soon discovered that he was the son of the forest guard. His father came out, scolded him and then consoled, but the dutiful did not stop chasing the drops. As if, the earth would give him a rap on the knuckles for not protecting its surface from those heavy raindrops. While silently coming closer to take his shot, I collided with the boy. In fact, he was not being able to follow my direction too. I noticed an unwavering stare in his cold eyes. Those eyes were devoid of sight.

The Deaf:

There was an old man, an opera singer by profession. He used to play the piano on weekends. On weekdays, he used to compose new tunes for himself. He always sung alone, played alone. Whenever asked, he had always rejected to be a part of any orchestra. While singing and playing, he used to look at his little audience in order to read their faces. He had a habit of penetrating hard through their eyes in order to observe when they were becoming indifferent, showing a little reluctance, feeling engrossed or catching tears. He used to observe all and he played on,  for all. He knew the reeds by heart. What he did not know was how he did sound when he played. He could never hear the round of applause coming from his audience either.  But in the end, when people used to smile in awe, love and respect - he used to stand up, slowly. Very slowly, he used to bow in front of his crowd and tried to nitpick the unsatisfied faces in them, if any. He used to find none. He himself was the one!

The Anosmic:

It had been seven years since the young chemist resigned from his nine-to-five job and dedicated his life completely in pursuit of chemical research.  Congenital anosmia had taken away his sense of smelling since birth. Whether it was 'pungent' ammonia or it was 'fishy' phosphine, he

got himself acquainted with all the smelly adjectives in the pages of books only. The words, as spelled different, would suppose to have different meanings. He knew that much. He could never differentiate those adjectives by sensing their smells. Last month, the local police discovered his exploded body in a lump of rubble. Along with his body, there were his test tubes, Bunsen burner, pipette, burette, other equipment and his own sweat and blood that he put into research. All perished together in a sudden blast. Police was struck - why the chemist did not press the "Help" button when hydrogen sulfide gas leaked? Few neighbours informed the police about some rotten egg smell coming outside the lab on the day of blast. They could anticipate a hint of gas leak. But, loner, as the chemist was, nobody wanted to interrupt him since it could jeopardize his concentration. Ironically, it jeopardized his own life!

The Ageusic:

  

That man was not Dr. Hannibal Lecter, but he was a true life monster in every possible way. After criminal conviction for murder, cannibalism and several other charges, he was sentenced to lifelong incarceration. In prison, his inmates got all scared after coming to know about his heinous act of consuming the victim's flesh. So, he was put into a  solitary cell. Meat cleaver,

saw, butcher knife - once he was equipped with all. But within the cell, he became blunt. With the habit of consuming only bland loaf for ages, his teeth gradually shed off the power of buttressed shovels. Shovels were there in the prison. He used those only to dig the earth for gardening. With a meek soul, he was counting each night as he lost all interests in life and was eager to face death. But each day, with the plantation of new greens on earth, he sowed the seeds of new hope in his mind. Those seeds gradually sought for the ways to germinate. One night, an inmate was found slaughtered outside his cell. Court order put the cannibal to capital punishment. He was suspected for committing the slaughter since he was the only one having prior charge of cannibalism. Within a week, he was sentenced to death. Soon after, the slaughtered one's postmortem report came. It was a plain suicide. And on diagnosis, the cannibal was found ageusic who lost his sense of taste long back. Both his teeth and taste buds became too dysfunctional to devour flesh and blood. The garden plants mourned his death.

The Mute:

As marriage needs two of them, so they are, two in number - one who always speaks, and the other, who always remains mute. He speaks in different languages, mostly they are loud. And he reminds her of the wild beasts. Sometimes his words are of anger, the other times, of threats and violence. Sometimes they are of benefits in having a male child, and the other times, they are of curses that the society can impose on them if accidentally their child turns out to be a female one. She, as a mute spectator, reads him in silence with a feeble mind. Only her hands gesture a fearful scream.