And this got me. Karan tried so hard to be the worker he wanted to be but the people around him wanted him to be something else entirely and only Achi saw past that, only Achi was watching what he did and listening to him. Because Achi sees into people despite himself. he sees past facades because he is really listening as long as it's not about him.

This is why Karan loves Achi and you can see it. Achi sees his work, the same way Karan learned to see what Achi did. Achi sees that what the client was doing is wrong and what their bosses were doing is wrong because he sees people rather than goals.

And it's Achi's kindness, Achi natural kindness and urge to comfort people, Achi's way of seeing everyone around him as better than himself that lets him offer comfort no one else could or would. Achi sees the people around and cares for them and the way he puts people above himself leaves him kind and understanding

Achi gave Karan a gift of kindness and in return Karan discovered something even deeper.

Blakeworther headcanons. I don't have a specific theme or anything in mind. Go ham

Go ham, you say?

GO HAM, YOU SAY?

Sorry not sorry but this is about to become mega cringe time. Because I do *have* a specific set of headcanons preloaded but it is not at ALL what you asked for

I love crossovers, and I want to import the Bastard Trio into my current crossover hell fic. So I was kind of playing with their dynamic in my mind, and one of the ways I test out character dynamics is to send them on little imaginary missions to other crossover worlds in my mind. Now, I’m in the midst of watching a playthrough of Skyward Sword, which I have heretofore not experienced. And I’m not exactly finished with it. But for some mental warm-ups, I was thinking, “Okay. SkSw is the other big fandom I’m trying, and it’s as far from the G4 as you can get, so what if you put three sci-fi guys in a high fantasy setting and watched them go? What if they had to take Link’s journey, except their goal is most certainly not to save anything because they’re swaggering murderers? What would happen then?”

This...is that story. But only up through the part where I watched (the first of the Silent Realms). Maybe a part II later if I keep doing this?

-To blend in, our boys have gotten themselves some Loftwings. While Vincent’s and Victor’s look like ordinary giant shoebills...oh. Oh, dear. Albert...how did you manage to turn it into a Dream Eater so fast? Its beak is white, its feathers are black, it has no eyes and people are STARING.

-Albert refuses to discard or fix the Dream Eater Loftwing. It’s going to be his steed for this entire quest. Joy.

-NOBODY played fair when they had to race against Groose. They teamed up to knock him off his bird and it’s a miracle he survived. Especially since he wasn’t supposed to survive that.

-Like I said, I have no idea what their endgame goal is here because they’re certainly not trying to stop Demise. Or are they? Because they befriend Ghirahim right the heck away and it’s entirely possible they’re like “We’re from the future, this guy will shatter you, you deserve better, please leave Demise in the ground and join our team”

-And when I say they befriend Ghirahim right away I mean ESPECIALLY ALBERT

-Victor loves shopping at the bazaar because he can play-flirt with Peatrice and she’ll flirt right back. Meanwhile if the fortune teller attempts to reel in Vincent ONE MORE TIME there will be blood.

-Vincent Edgeworth is forcibly removed from the Skyloft bazaar

-Victor is the only person who remotely likes Fi, probably because she’s quite visibly supposed to be an AI and he is quite visibly part robot.

-They hit the ground and get going!

-Oh no. Kikwis. They hate Kikwis so much.

-The one that’s up in the tree, the three of them debate how to most quickly get down. Vincent: “We don’t bother and just say we did.” Victor: “If we threw a rock at it, it would fall out.” Albert: “I think we should set the whole tree on fire.”

-They get into the first dungeon, and you know that one segment where you have to vine-swing and the motion controls are so unforgiving? Vincent fell off those vines like twelve times and Victor and Albert lost their shit

-They get the beetle and now that thing’s a Dream Eater, too. Albert please stop doing this

-Back at Skyloft, doing sidequests is their least favorite thing. They do not give a SHIT about Gratitude Crystals if they don’t have to do so. The missing girl’s mom comes up to tell her problems and Vincent just goes “This affects me how?”. The brother says his sister went missing and Victor’s just like “We’ll take care of it!” and as soon as he’s out of earshot “Let’s not take care of it.” Cawlin hands them the love letter to deliver to Karane or Phoeni, Albert rips it in half in front of Cawlin, Cawlin starts bawling, Victor just goes “Actually I kinda wanted to do that one and see if we could start romance drama”

-Into Eldin Province and Mogmas are...only slightly less aggravating than Kikwis

-VINCENT ALMOST EXPLODES WHEN HE LEARNS THE KEY TO THE NEXT DUNGEON IS SPLIT IN PIECES AND HE HAS TO DIG IN THE DIRT FOR IT

-So then there’s that one passage in the valley where if you don’t just book it, your clothes will catch on fire. They blaze through it, and Fi determines that they’ve sustained no damage, which is good, because if they’d been exposed a moment longer, then surely one of them would be naked. Victor, hearing this, promptly tosses some personal item of his back into the high-heat area; “Oops. I dropped it. Go get it, Vincent.” Albert: “YES! GO GET IT, VINCENT!”

-It is only sheer willpower and Victor’s physical restraint that keeps Vincent from beating Ledd to a pulp.

-They actually kinda like hanging around the sacred springs, though. They’re tranquil places. A good way to just...not have to deal with all that noise. They can sit by the water quietly for a while, just watching it ripple.

-And back to business! They enter Lanayru, discover that the Time Crystals can revert this desert into a technological paradise and...yeah, it was way, WAY better in the past than it is now. They poke around some of the tech, taking notes for later in case they can reverse-engineer any of it.

-Dream Eater Beetle has been replaced by a brand-new shiny Hook Beetle! Albert, please don’t turn this one into a - GOD DAMMIT ALBERT. HOW ARE YOU EVEN DOING THIS WITH INANIMATE OBJECTS.

-They get in such a fight about how to place the generator switches. Victor is trying his best but he’s SURE they don’t arrange the way the other two are trying to tell him they arrange

-Every time they pass Ghirahim they stop to chat with him about how the demon uprising is going, also aren’t heroines just so freaking annoying? Zelda, Vanora, why are they always getting in the way?

-Victor of course tries to put the verbal moves on Impa. At this point Vincent and Albert know he just does this for fun, he’s faithful to the two of them, but still, they gotta do the obligatory eyeroll and groan

-”Yes, Victor. She’s very pretty. We’re gay, not blind”

-Vincent actually enjoys playing the Goddess Harp, surprisingly. He can just zone into the music.

-The Imprisoned gets out and hoo boy, they’re really not supposed to be DEFEATING evil just yet but Albert wants to cut off some TOES (and this ends up yielding them knowledge about the Isle of Songs so it’s all good)

-Scrapper annoys them all and visibly offends Victor.

-Vincent likes to use the bellows from the Eldin dungeon to blow away anyone who tries to rope him into a sidequest. Albert then goes “I’ve just realized the potential we have!” and tries to blow people off the edge of Skyloft.

-They hate the remlits until they find out that the remlits go feral at night and now they love the remlits but only after dark

-Into the Thunderhead for the Isle of Songs. And YET AGAIN WE CANNOT AGREE ON HOW TO SOLVE THE PUZZLE THAT LETS US INSIDE

-Down to Faron’s realm to get to the Silent Realm. Once they’re in there and have learned about the guardians...

-Vincent: “Now we have to be CAREFUL and QUICK or else the guardians will expel us immediately, maybe even kill us.” Victor: “You might want to tell him that.” Vincent: “Wh - ALBERT NO”

-Albert is investigating a dormant guardian close-up and decides “I want to take one of these home.”

-Vincent: “NO, Albert, we can’t...hmmmm. Actually, we could probably weaponize them...” Victor: “CAN WE NOT?”

-And then cue them risking life and limb not to get what they even came here for but to pick up AS MANY DARK RELICS AS THEY CAN CARRY

And that’s as far as I’ve watched in SkSw so far. Not sure whether or not I’ll keep using it as a Blakeworther ground, but there, have the AU you *never* wanted

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Homeward Bound

Happy holidays, @tea-for-you! - @scratcho-mcdatcho

Karan takes the croissants from the oven, careful not to burn herself. It’s second nature by now, hardly a conscious thought put towards the action. Shion, though, is much less practiced. 

He hisses as he swipes his wrist against the top of the oven, just against the edge. He gamely holds onto the second tray of flaky pastries. 

Karan looks up at the ceiling as if it has any answers for her. She looks back at her son in exasperation. “Put the tray down, Shion. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, you shouldn’t sacrifice your own well being for a few croissants.” She sets her own tray down on the cooling rack before taking the tray from his hands and doing the same. She holds out her hand. “Let me see your wrist.”

Shion just smiles sheepishly at her and gives his hand over. She takes it and runs it under the cool water from the nearby sink, muttering admonishments as she does. 

“Really, Shion, I know you’re not often here, but you’d think you’d remember to be more careful next time!” She smiles gently at her son. They still don’t have many resources in Lost Town. Less now than they did before, in fact. The fall of No.6 affected a lot of the small things, and for now, all Karan can do is soothe her son’s burn with cool water and a kind smile. 

But it’s enough, she knows. After everything, it is more than enough. Her son is here, in front of her, after all, and that counts for so much. 

As if hearing her thoughts, Shion smiles softly at her.

Her own smile widens in response. Her son is here, in front of her. That is as good a reason to be giddy as any, and Karan finds that she would not be able to stop herself even if she wanted. She imagines the picture the two of them must make, smiling like happy fools in the middle of her home and bakery, the reddened skin on Shion’s wrist cradled firmly in her own hands. 

Outside the window, the first rays of the dawning light hit the buildings. It pinkens the whole street, lighting the stone steps up and softening the small tufts of short, vibrant green grasses and weeds that grow between the cracks. 

As much as Karan loves her neighbors and the usual bustle of her town, this is her favorite part of the morning. Before anyone else has woken up, before the streets start to fill with people as they start their days. It is the kind of peace that she values in her life now, more so after the upheaval of No.6 and all that came in the aftermath. 

Shion turns away from her then, just barely looking past her. His eyes are unfocused, like he’s watching something in the middle distance. Waiting for something, maybe.

“Mom, can I ask you something?” 

There it was. 

Karan had known that her son had something on his mind. Call it mother’s intuition, or maybe just emotional intelligence, but Karan knew her son well enough to know when something important was on his mind. 

She nodded encouragingly at Shion as she kneaded bread for the rolls she’d soon be popping into the oven. 

“I think that Nezumi might be back.”

Her hands paused above the bread for a brief moment before she continued, pressing into it maybe a little too hard with her fingers and then smoothing it down with the heel of her palm. 

This was not the first time Shion had said that. It wasn’t even the second. 

Both times before had been mistakes. The first, someone in West Block had taken on the stage name Eve. They performed Hamlet, and Shion had been so sure that it would be Nezumi, well used to his flair and fully expecting it to be his grand, dramatic gesture of coming home. 

From what Karan had heard of him, and from the short moment she had met him before he left, she wouldn’t have been surprised either, so they went to see the play, ready to welcome Nezumi home.

They had both been disappointed that day, though Shion far more than her.

The second time, too, had been a case of mistaken identity. Someone with a similar voice half obscured by the noisy gathering of West Block’s bazaars – but Shion had heard it, for just a split second, on his way home. He’d backtracked frantically, trying to catch a glimpse of Nezumi’s smirk, maybe a flutter of his long, tied up hair. In the end, all he was left with was the familiar cadence ringing in his ears, almost mocking as he found nothing of the man himself. 

Shion came into the bakery the next morning. It was early, before Karan had even finished making her pastries and breads for the day, and heavy with the still dark sky and his own thinly worn hope, he told her about what had happened. As they rolled out dough together in the pre-dawn morning, Shion spoke aloud his fears. He had been so sure that it had been Nezumi. At first, he thought it was a test, had held tight onto that last chance, that last hope. But his disappointment at not being able to find Nezumi undercut his words and Karan held him close when, three days later, he finally admitted to himself that it couldn’t have been Nezumi. 

This time, Karan was so suspicious of who it could actually be. She’d seen her son crushed too many times. Most of all, she hated seeing his back turned to her, steps echoing slow and heavy as he left the bakery, returning instead to the home that he’d once shared with Nezumi. 

He always laughed at himself for jumping to conclusions, but Karan couldn’t help but notice how harsh the laughter was, or the slump of his shoulders even as he insisted that he was fine, or the way that his feet dragged slightly, scuffing his shoes against the stone steps outside her shop. 

It was heartbreaking. 

She never wanted her son to look like that. Defeated. Alone. 

And she hoped to every god there might be out there that this time, Nezumi really was coming home to her son.

Instead of voicing her many worries, Karan just smiled brightly at Shion. 

“Let’s give him something to come home to then, shall we?” She said, determined. 

Her son just smiled back at her, buoyed by Karan’s positivity. After all, this was what a mother was supposed to do.

She pushed aside the slight mess that they hadn’t yet cleaned up from the croissants and rolled out a new ball of dough. 

“What should we make for him? Do you know any of his favorites, Shion?” 

“Cherry cake. We should make cherry cake for Nezumi.”

“Cherry cake it’ll be, then.” Karan rolled her sleeves up past her elbows from where they had begun to sag down her forearms, wilting from hours of work she’d already done that morning. “Can you grab the cherries and pit them? They’re over in the bowl on the counter, dear.”

Shion shoved the sleeves of his sweater up, much less practiced than Karan. She noted them already beginning to sag and hid the way that her lips tugged upwards at the sight. It wouldn’t do to let Shion think that she was laughing at him, but she knew he’d be awkwardly tugging his sleeves up throughout the whole process, trying to avoid getting them caught up in the mess. 

Sometimes Karan was reminded that, for all his genius intellect, her son was not the best at thinking through the small details of life. That was okay though. It brought to mind his bright innocence from childhood. A lot of it had been lost, even just within the past two years, but it was nice to see the little places it still existed.

And standing there, looking at her son with his fingers stained pink from the juice of the cherries he was cutting, elbows kept stiffly at his sides in the hopes that his sweater sleeves wouldn’t dip down further than they already had, Karan couldn’t help the fierce love that welled up in her. 

She leaned up towards Shion and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“He’ll come back to you.” She reached up and tilted his chin so he was looking at her. “Because Shion? You are worth coming back to. And he is worth waiting for. And that’s how I know that Nezumi will come back to you.”

Karan wiped a tear from his cheek and continued, hurting to see her son hurting, but knowing that he had to know this, especially if Nezumi hadn’t actually returned to the area yet. “He won’t be the same as when he left, in the same way that you aren’t the same Shion that he left behind here. All of us grow with each new experience, and the two of you have experienced a lot of new things since you parted ways. Nezumi might need more time to figure out who he is in the aftermath of everything, but Shion, even if he doesn’t come back today, or tomorrow, or even a month from now, he’ll come back to you. But for now, what you have to do is just keep moving forward. Exactly in the way you have been. Don’t forget about all the good you’ve done here. You’ll be able to meet him again as an equal, and if that means that you have to give him a good punch to the jaw for making you wait so long, then that’s what that means.”

A voice spoke up from the shop’s entrance, startling both Karan and Shion. 

“Maybe this wasn’t the best time to show my face, then,” Nezumi said ruefully. 

Karan heard Shion make a small, nearly inaudible gasp in the back of his throat as his breath hitched. 

And then he was moving, throwing himself at Nezumi. Nezumi flinched and took a half staggered step back, eyes wide, like he was actually expecting Shion to actually punch him. But no, Shion’s arms just wrapped around him. Just… holding him, like the thought of letting go was something he couldn’t bear. Nezumi visibly relaxed into his grasp. Shion’s arms just clutched Nezumi tighter.

Karan looked away from the two of them, trying to give them what privacy they could have here. Her eyes fell on the small pile of cherries that Shion had abandoned, only half of them pitted and cut. She set to the task herself, determined to finish the cherry cake that her son had wanted to give to Nezumi upon his return. 

And Karan, for once in a life filled with having to prove herself again and again in ways both big and small, had never been so happy to be wrong. 

Nezumi had come home, and he’d come home to her son. And that was all she could really ask for, as a mother. She’d shake down worlds for her son’s happiness – though recalling No.6’s crumbled walls, it seemed, she thought, not without humor – that he already had someone at his side that he could achieve that with. 

Karan moved on from the cherries and started preparing the dough. At the very least, she could supply them with a cherry cake to welcome them home. 

The Taste of Salt (Living People are Warm)

Fandom: No.6 Pairing: Nezumi x Shion Word count: 2306 Warnings: Minor character death, parental death, scars Tags: Hurt/comfort, bittersweet fluff, body worshipping Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788664 Summary: After Karan's sudden death, Shion finds himself losing grasp of what it means to be alive and needs Nezumi to ground him. Notes: Written for the @restructuralcommittee ‘s Valentine’s contest with the theme “Types of Kisses”.

There are many different kinds of kisses, Shion learned.

Kisses his mother gave him when he visited her at the bakery or at home. Inukashi’s dogs that enthusiastically licked his hands whenever he ran into them at the marketplace. Little Shionn who padded up to him, begging to be lifted up high and messily bumping his puckered lips against Shion’s cheek.

Every kiss he gave and received was dear to him. But his favourite kisses were Nezumi’s. Fleeting kisses as he was stirring the pot on the stove. Lazy morning kisses over complaints about bad breath. Nezumi’s newly developed habit of taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. Kisses before bed and kisses before work. Kisses that made him dizzy and kisses that made him float.  He had never known there were so many different kisses, but now that he was familiar with them, he couldn’t get enough.

-

It was on a beautiful spring day that he discovered a new kind of kiss.

In hindsight, he doesn’t remember much about that week. There’s a vague lingering feeling of the phone slipping out of his hand when the staticky voice apologetically informed him of her condition. Of the rage burning in his veins when Nezumi had held him back as he blindly rushed into the traffic to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. Of the numb days when they shouldered the heavy burden of preparing for the funeral. Of the emptiness scratching on his hollow insides as he watched the undertaker cover the coffin with dirt.

His most vivid memory was when they had returned from the cemetery. He had closed the blinds and retreated into their bedroom, closing himself off from the bright blue sky, from the sun smiling down at him, from the world that breathed and lived around him as if she hadn’t just cruelly embraced one of her children in her bosom.

Nezumi had left him to mourn, after having promised to come immediately if Shion called for him.

He didn’t.

-

As the sky outside slowly bled out and turned black, silence settled in their apartment like heavy, stifling blanket. When Shion still hadn’t come out hours after Nezumi had tried to coax him out for dinner, Nezumi grew worried. He was only too familiar to the extremities of Shion’s emotions and knew they were prone to be self-destructive. So he reheated the broth he had set aside for him and took the bowl to their bedroom.

When he knocked on the door, there came no reply. He stepped into the room and quietly drew up to the bed where Shion was buried under the blankets, staring at the wall and his pillow dark with stains. Cautiously, as if he could break him if he spoke too loudly, he said “I brought you some soup.”

It took Shion a moment to reply. “I’m not hungry.”

Nezumi watched him for a few seconds before placing the bowl on the nightstand and sitting down on the edge of their bed. He tentatively reached out and brushed his fingers through his pale, almost translucent hair. Shion inhaled sharply, as if he was broken out of a trance.

Still staring at the wall, he broke the silence. “Mom was so cold in the morgue.” His voice was frail, raw from crying. “I kissed her goodbye, but it didn’t feel like her. Mom is always so warm, but all that warmth was gone.”

Nezumi’s heart ached. Shion was supposed to be brimming with excitement, curiosity and fascination, spewing weird scientific facts at inappropriate moments. Not quiet and broken like this, with red rimmed eyes and tear streaks on his cheeks. “We look before and after, and pine for what is not,” he murmured, letting his hand travel a little lower. His thumb gently brushed over his red scar as he continued, “our sincerest laughter with some pain is fraught; our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.”

Shion smiled faintly - Nezumi counted that as a small victory - and scooted a little closer.

“Percy Shelley?”

“Looks like someone has done his homework.”

They smiled at each other. It was a little easier to breathe now. Shion was quiet for a moment until he broke the silence again.

“Kiss me.”

Nezumi happily obeyed and leaned down, softly pressing his lips against Shion’s. It was as if this kiss restored some of the life the recent days had drained from him, as Shion eagerly mirrored the action, burying his hands in his inky hair, effectively messing up his ponytail. Nezumi hadn’t expected the force with which Shion responded and had to quickly catch himself on the bed by placing his hands next to Shion’s head. The taste of salt lingered on his lips. Shion broke away from the kiss and gazed up at him with damp eyes.

“Remember when we were twelve and you were having a fever from the gunshot wound?”

Nezumi felt a pang in his chest. Remember when? Of course he remembered. The memory had stuck with him no matter how much he had tried to push it away. It had kept him sane through the cold and lonely days in the library vault, a reminder that there were still good people out there, and the kindle for a silent determination to see that boy again; that weird, airheaded boy who had saved him against all odds. His hand found its way to Shion’s scar again and he traced the lines with his finger pads. “How could I forget?”

A tear rolled down Shion’s cheek. “You may not remember because you were about to succumb to your fever, but back then you said living people are warm.” He looked up at Nezumi and met his pained gaze, desperation and anguish making his red eyes seem even brighter than usual. “Prove it to me. I’m chilled to the bone, Nezumi. It’s like her cold has seeped into me. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be warm, to be alive, so please, kiss me and remind me I’m still alive.”

Nezumi’s heart both soared and ached. This was one of the many reasons why he loved Shion. In any other situation he would have teased him for saying something so embarrassing with a straight face, but now the only thing he wanted was to obey and love him as much as Shion would let him, as much as he needed him to.

He pressed his lips against Shion’s forehead and heard his breath hitch. “You’re alive, Shion,” he whispered. He kissed his temple, his cheek and tasted the tears that had started falling again. He wiped them away and rested his forehead against Shion's. “You're alive,” he repeated. “Feel the sorrow threatening to drag you under, the anger at life's unfairness; it's a sign that you're living.”

Shion sobbed. He reached up and took Nezumi's face in his hands. “Show me more,” he whispered.

Nezumi brushed his thumb over Shion’s lower lip before kissing him again, a silent promise that he would give everything Shion needed him to give. Gently pulling down Shion's hands from his face, he leaned back and tugged on the blanket Shion was still lying under. He got the hint and pushed them off. Once the blanket was out of the way, Nezumi climbed on top of him. His hand found Shion’s and they shared a loving look before Nezumi leaned down again and let his lips follow the trail of his scar, until it disappeared under the collar of his dress shirt. They hadn't changed out of their funeral clothes yet. Shion had crawled into bed the second he was alone, and Nezumi hadn’t entered the bedroom afterwards out of respect. He met Shion’s eyes. “Can I open this?” It was not something he usually asked, but he did not want to break this fragile moment by taking things to a place Shion wasn't prepared to go.

His worries were put at ease when Shion squeezed their joined hands and nodded. He started unbuttoning his shirt but found it was a pretty difficult task to do one-handed. As he slowly grew more frustrated, Shion let out a watery laugh and let go of Nezumi’s hand. Nezumi shot him a surly look but couldn’t help but grin as well. “Sorry about that,” he murmured as he undid the buttons, with two hands this time.

“It’s fine,” Shion replied fondly, watching as Nezumi undid the last button and pushed the fabric open. Nezumi’s eyes followed the red snake that slithered around his chest. He was no stranger to Shion’s naked body, but the beauty of it never failed to captivate him. Shion tugged on the hem of Nezumi’s shirt.

“You too.”

He looked up to see Shion watching him with intent. He smiled. Of course, it would only be fair. He sat up and undid his own shirt, feeling Shion’s gaze burn as slowly more and more was revealed until he shrugged the fabric off and he bared his own scars to the world. Shion stared at them and Nezumi could only guess what he was thinking. There was pain in his eyes, but also adoration. Shion reached up and hesitantly touched the mark the gunshot had left on his chest. Another trophy of having bested death. A souvenir of yet another time Shion had saved his life. He took Shion’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers, and kissed his knuckles before leaning down again, pressing their hands into the mattress. He brushed his lips over his forehead and wandered down to press kisses onto his pulse points - his temple, his jugular, the centre of his sternum - anywhere he could feel the blood coursing through his veins, the life flowing through him. He heard Shion inhale sharply and couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to Shion and his stupidly intelligent brain to notice details like these even in the middle of an emotional crisis. He pressed a final kiss to his chest before sitting up again.

Nezumi’s eyes flicked up to Shion’s before letting his finger pads trace the red snake that coiled around his body. Shion’s breath hitched at the touch.

“The first night you spent in the West Block,” Nezumi spoke, his touch never faltering and his gaze meeting Shion’s, “you had just survived No.6 hunting you down, only for a parasite wasp to hatch in your neck.” He felt Shion stiffen under his fingers but he didn’t look away from him. “You begged me to let you die but you survived. This scar is proof of your strength. You said you wanted to live, and you did. You’re strong, Shion.”

Shion’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and another tear rolled down his cheek. He brought up his hand and bit the skin on the back of his hand to stifle a sob. Nezumi reached for that hand and gently pried it from his harmful teeth. He pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles before guiding it to his bared chest, right above his lungs. “Do you feel your chest rising and falling? Even now your lungs are circulating air through your body, giving you the breath of life.” He moved his hand a little to the right, hovering over his heart, and suddenly he was reminded of that moment in the vault, so many years ago. Shion had asked to know more about him and Nezumi had replied with a similar gesture, taking his hand and placing it on his chest, making him feel his heartbeat. Thus he asked the same question he had back then. “What do you feel?”

Shion seemed to notice the mirror to the past as well, if the widening of his eyes was anything to go by. “My heartbeat,” he replied with a quivering voice.

Nezumi smiled. “That’s right. You’re alive, and that’s all you need to know.”

Shion whimpered. He reached up to Nezumi and pulled him down, burying his face in his shoulder and letting his tears fall freely. “I love you,” he cried. “I love you, Nezumi.”

Nezumi circled his arms around him, his fingers in his hair and his arm around his waist, and guided their bodies to the side. He did not say anything, but he did not need to. He simply held Shion close as he rode through the waves of adoration and grief. When his sobs died down, Nezumi leaned back a bit and wiped the traces of his tears away. “You feeling okay?” He murmured. Shion sniffed and gave him a small smile. “Yeah.” He scooted up a little and rested his forehead against Nezumi’s. “Thank you.”

Nezumi hummed affirmatively and closed his eyes. They laid there for a while, tired and spent after the long week and exhaustion catching up to them. Right when Nezumi was content to let sleep drag him under, he was startled awake by a loud rumbling noise.

Shion flinched and blushed. “I’m sorry, I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Nezumi reluctantly opened his eyes and lazily ran his fingers through Shion’s hair. “Go have the broth I brought you. It’ll be cold by now, but you’re a heathen so I’m sure you won’t mind.”

Shion laughed. “Not everyone likes their soup piping hot.”

Nezumi rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just eat already.” He nudged his knee against Shion’s leg in an attempt to push him out of bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” He climbed over Nezumi to reach the bedside table bowl was standing on and settled against the headboard. As he ate the (exactly salty enough) broth and watched Nezumi dozing off next to him, he smiled. He was eternally grateful for that day he opened the window and let in the soggy wet rat.

No matter what life threw at them, they would make it through together.

#Shaneri

Baby Anni,

I know I still say baby, because that’s what you are to me today, one day before you tie the knot with the man of your dreams, that’s what you were the day Mamu and Mami brought you home from the third step of Vishweshwar Mahadev temple and that’s what you’ll always be. I just wanted to write this letter to you to tell you how proud I am that you’ve gone from wearing the fountain ponytails into this beautiful, young lady, taking on this big world and now you have the kindest gentleman by your side to help you do it.

Oh no! You’re getting married.

Oh, how many stories we could tell and how many secrets we’ve shared. It’s ENDLESS! The memories, the laughs, the tears, the highs, the lows.. we’ve lived them all. We’re about to experience yet another beautiful memory tomorrow as you say your vows in the Pheras and marry the man you were always supposed to find. I’ve got say a few things…

Tomorrow will not only change your life but also all of ours in the best way possible. Our little Anni will be a married woman! Remember the times we used to play ‘Ghar’ and you used to say, “I think I’ll be a pretty dulhan!” although we thought that this day would be somewhere with Sharukh Khan. But, girl, I’d say it’s even better than we imagined. Tomorrow is the big day we’ve dreamed about since we were little as I can remember and looking at the ‘Vaarghodas’ from our balconies! We always knew this day would be something special, but I have to say, you’ve made it even more that we could’ve imagined. I cannot wait to see you walk down the aisle in your beautiful sari taking your first steps down a path towards a new chapter. So, I sit here in this awful haircut that you are forcing me to wear, I realize that even though our relationship may not be exactly the same, I welcome new changes wholeheartedly.

I would need a thousand blog posts to tell you just how much you mean to me and just how PROUD I am of you. I will start by saying, I have been blessed in so many ways by having you as my sister. You have always been a person that I respect and admire! You’re everything “good”. What I mean by that is… you’re the kind of good that’s not just surface deep, but you’re good to the core; the purest of hearts. You always see the best in people and treat them with a kindness that is rare to find and anyone that is lucky enough to be in your life is BETTER because of it. I am so proud of for your strength and resilience. It hasn’t always been easy! You fought through difficult circumstances, and dealt with hardships, but you’ve overcome! All of those experiences have brought you here… to this special day. Through the ups and downs, God was faithful and we saw this first hand when he placed someone in your life that adores you. It is an answer to our prayers from our coutless trips to Palitana that you’ve found a man that cherishes you and sees you for who you are; how we all see you! Someone that makes you feel safe and accepts every part of you.

We’ve held hands through it all, the time you didn’t want to go to tuitions because you had a bad hair day, the time you wanted to sneak out for the night over in 11thgrade and even from all the times you were in bad mood when you had a fight with Shan! Even though I’m older, I always learned so much from you – like all those impromptu ‘Remix’ songs dances we used to do and show it to everyone in the house (more on this at the end)! Today and everyday I’m still here to hold your hand though it. I have watched you my entire life. It’s kind of also funny how nothing has changed throughout the years gone by.

I’ll start with this – you’re going to have a partner along with you during the big days of your life, the big parenting decisions, dealing with the parents and in-laws (Oh, and those Ekta Kapoor soaps we used to watch, no kidding, they’re kinda true), but you’ll also have someone to wake up with on Sunday mornings and do a closet cleaning session with. No matter how big or small just remember you’ll have fun during all those times. But, trust me when I say this – sometimes fun and magic will come easily to the both of you and sometimes you’re going to have to try hard. We’ve been best friends before I even knew what a best friend was, and have had some battles that only we can come back from. We’ve grown up side by side with one always catching the other when we fall, and catapulting one other during times of success. We’ve learned from each other’s mistakes and carried life lessons passed between us along the way. A friendship may know all of your best stories, but a sister is the one who lived them with you. And damn it that ever the truth.

I can’t wait to hear about milestones that’ll make up your early years of marriage – like you finally not burning dinner, or him bringing flowers to you at work. But I’ll also be eagerly waiting to hear about the later ones: the dinner you will have perfected over the years, or him bringing you flowers for your golden anniversary.

Remember this Anni, relationships aren’t easy and compromises are a must. There will be days that you’ll have to let Shan go for drinks with the guys even though you want to spend the evening with him and there will be days that he’ll have to take on baby duty because your friend wants to watch a re-run of Koffee with Karan and eat ice cream cause she had a fight with her boyfriend! But you’ll soon realize it is all worth it. Every night you’ll be able to come and snuggle up to your favourite man (well second favorite, after Prabu Ofcourse) and the compromises will just seem like a teeny-tiny price to pay. We are not perfect, and we never try to be. We would rather eat ‘Paanchur’ than get all dulled up and dine out at a fabcy restaurant. We laugh too hard, but never too often, and usually make a fool of ourselves (okay mostly me) in the process. We’ve defended one another without giving it a second thought.

We are brother and sister.

As we approach this big day I just thought some elder brother words of wisdom should be passed down. I am after all 13 months, and a nephew older as well as not adopted, but not so sure about the wiser part (you know I’m just winging it as it comes, right?) Even though I feel like I have already welcomed Shan into our lives (Yes Shan, I say our lives because she was and will always be mine first), tomorrow makes it official. So, before he takes you from me, and changes your last name, I am taking one last moment to make it all about us. The Shah Bro-Sis.

Anni, you’re going to make the most stunning, loving, and brightest bride tomorrow. And your dulhe-raja will be waiting for you at the mandap all ready to fall in love with that radiant smile all over again. For some siblings, that may feel a little like two people parting ways. But I know that isn’t the case for us! I will no longer be just a brother anymore, but a brother-in-law, and one day (hopefully soon), a Mama again!

Also, forgive me, because I will promise not to cry, but then of course I will, because it will be hard not to. I’ll shed a tear when you hold your husband’s hand for the first time as a married lady and pose for a picture. When you ask me to hug you one last time before you leave the venue, I’ll probably not do it because I won’t be able to stop bawling because it’s too hard. It won’t be easy to let a part of my heart go, without me mourning, even though I know this is such a happy occasion. It’s hard to share you with anyone else!

So, I pen down my thoughts today, thinking about you in that gorgeous ping Lehenga, I have tears in my eyes. I’m now not only your big brother but Shan’s too! I hope I live upto the task. But if you ask me, I’m crazy excited to have a new member in our little gang! Tomorrow marks the beginning of a new chapter. Not just for you and Shan, but for us too. Uncharted waters that neither of us truly know anything about. You will officially be writing a new story and creating a new family. A family of your own.

Besides, another apology is for being a tad too clingy. I know that I need to let you go and live this new exciting life, but it’ll take me some time to accept it! I’ll call you 10 times a day, I’ll constantly ask you to come home and meet us, and I will be tad jealous of your husband because hey, he is fast becoming as special as I am, to you! Yes, I will probably never accept that he can become more special than me to you, even though he has every right to be. I also have to open my heart to include Shan in my life as much as I love you, I will be a little rude and annoying at times. Sorry if I ever ignore him and only hug you instead!

Enjoy the day baby, it’s your once in a lifetime fairytale day and we’re all here to make it as special as the one you’ve been dreaming about. You and Shan are going to live a joyful life together, grow old loving eachother, learning new quirks about eachother and making the best team ever. I am showering all my love, flowers, blessings and anything else I can get a hold on for the two of you. The way you two look at eachother, assures me that your adoration will last a lifetime and he’ll be there to protect you whenever I can’t. Our bond is stronger than ever before, and I will stand beside you tomorrow like I have our entire lives and continue to do so no matter where life takes us.

On this day, I toast to us and the bond that can never be broken to the new life you are about to start with the man of your dreams.

Happy Wedding day, Anni! The best is yet to come…

All of my Love from the best friend and brother for life,

Prabhu

What made Dill Mill Gayye a cult classic?

Dill Mill Gayye, love it or hate it, you cannot exactly ignore it, even today Dill Mill Gayye is relevant and people talk about it. A certain section of audience adores it, and has nostalgia attached to it, while a certain section of the audience feels the show was childish and even refer to it as “clowns mill gayye.” Now while the show Dill Mill Gayye (DMG) may not be the best show in terms of content and realism it is interesting how only this show is mocked by a certain section of people, I think it is a very easy target since the show did see huge amount of popularity. Another reason why Dill Mill Gayye is an easy target for criticism is because the show was essentially based on Doctors, and I think it is harder to forgive showing mindless stuff in a medical drama then it is in a normal saas-bahu saga. Regardless of the criticism the show gets one cannot deny it’s hysteria. Dill Mill Gayye came out on 20th August 2007, it was a spin off to a successful medical drama called Sanjeevani. Dill Mill Gayye saw instant success, with TRPS going well above and beyond any show ever aired in the history of the channel Star One. This show was extremely popular amongst the youth, and again was a welcome change from all the saas-bahu saagas.

Not only the show but even the actors became mammoth stars, especially the lead hero of the show Karan Singh Grover. The hysteria his character Dr Armaan Malik saw is a rarity on Indian TV, he literally became a youth icon. The kind of craze he saw was unimaginable, one time Dr Armaan gave out a made up telephone number on TV, and so many fan girls actually called that number and ended up harassing a businessman. Karan Singh Grover also claimed that he got around 600 calls a day from fan girls. If that was not enough when he worked with Priyanka Chopra for a reality show even she acknowledged the hysteria that surrounded him. One may wonder what is so good about the show and Karan Singh Grover that created so much hysteria, so let’s get right into it. Let’s start from the beginning, first thing first, Dill Mill Gayye was one of the very few Indian TV shows that catered to the youth, so the youth latched onto it pretty hard. It was one of the very few Indian shows that had such a handsome and charming leading man aka Dr Armaan/Karan Singh Grover. It was one of the very few shows that showed something in regards to Doctors. It was one of the very few shows that brought in laughs and gave a very warm and happy feeling to the audience. Last but not the least it created an amazing love story between Dr Armaan Malik (KSG) and Dr Riddhima (Shilpa Anand). There are a lot of factors that made the love story of Armaan and Riddhima a compelling one, at least until they confess their feelings for one another. Armaan’s attraction to Riddhima is obvious right from the start. Right from the beginning of the show Armaan starts playfully bullying Riddhima, and it is obvious the bullying is occurring because he is extremely attracted to her. Riddhima’s naïve nature also makes her an easy prey for him. What makes it interesting is that Armaan doesn’t let his feelings show, or maybe Riddhima is naïve enough to not realise them. Armaan falls quite hard for the naiveness and the kindness Riddhima possesses, and the glitter in his eyes when he gets a reaction out of her is quite priceless to watch. What makes the love story even more compelling is that while Riddhima is naïve she is not the kind who goes without a fight, and on every step of the way she answers back to Armaan’s pranks, which makes for a fun watch. The most compelling part of the love story is when Armaan tries to get Riddhima to confess her feelings for him but Riddhima does not budge no matter how hard he tries, and no matter how hard she has fallen for him. This part of the love story brought the most amazing and intense scenes and brought the best love confession scene I have seen on Indian TV. One has to watch to see what I mean, it is not something that I can describe in words. Unfortunately after the love confession the show went haywire, and the makers pretty much lost the plot, but since the show was so popular and was bringing in money the show got extended for no good reason. Later Shilpa Anand aka Dr Riddhima also left, and the show started its journey on a downward spiral in terms of content. None the less it still stayed a show which people could watch for a good laugh and to see youthful actors having fun, hence the show managed to stay afloat for another 2 years. Inspite of the not so amazing content, inspite of replacements and an overstretched story the show is still considered a cult classic, because it did get a lot right in terms of the entertainment factor, it was a fun happy go lucky show. Till date Karan Singh Grover discovers fans from within the industry itself who really enjoyed this show and his character. The show genuinely spread a lot of happiness, hence this show will always be a special show for the youth of that time

Ludovic Saint Sernin By Miguel Figueroa Photos by Alex Franco

One of the best ways to get your first foot in fashion - or any type of business for that matter - is through apprenticeship. Back when they were the new kids on the block, Yves Saint Laurent, Donna Karan and Alessandro Michele learned and paid their dues, respectively, under the tutelage of Christian Dior, Anne Klein and Tom Ford. Three years after working at Balmain with Olivier Rousting, 27-year-old Ludovic Saint Sernin struck out on his own, presenting his first collection; a gender fluid homage to late nineties minimalism. We caught up with the designer on his birthday to talk about his influences, obsessions, next steps and unusual morning routine.

Hi Ludovic, let's start with the basics. What time did you get up this morning?  I woke up at 10, I usually wake up earlier but I just got back from California and the jet lag is real. It was an amazing holiday/research trip, very inspiring! 

Do you have a routine? What did you have for breakfast? Yes, I do! It is kind of ridiculous though. I have apple juice and cereal in bed and I religiously watch an episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians or The Real Housewives, just to ease in the day. Then I start work at 11, and right now I am researching and sketching for next season.

What did you want to be when you were a child? I have always wanted to be a fashion designer for as long as I can remember. When I was just a little boy I was obsessed with The Little Mermaid, I had the Barbie, the sun lounger, everything and I would dress her etc. This obsession for her slowly transitioned into an obsession with Lindsay Lohan, when I was a teenager I would draw her everyday. Lukas Heerich who did the soundtrack for the presentation included some bits of interviews from her and mixed it with minimal music as a nod to her. 

I was probably 10 when a friend of my mom’s introduced me to Yves Saint Laurent, not literally but she had some old VHS of his most iconic shows and I remember thinking, this is it, this is what I want to do.

Who were or still are your fashion icons? Alaïa has always been a model for me. He's built something so unique and special. I recently watched the documentary by Joe McKenna who I'm obsessed with and it was so fascinating to see how he works. There's no one else like him he's such a perfectionist. Helmut Lang is obviously a big reference as is Rei Kawakubo and Issey Miyake. Kirtsen Owen, I don't think there's a single image that she's in that doesn't inspire me, she's a huge inspiration. I posted a picture of her from Steven Meisel the other day and the caption simply said : mom.

You broke from working at Balmain - which is the antithesis of your style - and created a beautiful, minimal first collection. What were your biggest lessons working there? Balmain was my first fashion family, they have been amazing to me and I am very grateful for everything I have learnt there. I was working on embellishment and textiles which was so exciting to do there because you can really propose stuff and create amazing pieces. And their approach was very artisanal which I really appreciate.

Have you always played with gender bending? What do you consider to be the most masculine feature in a woman and the most feminine trait in a man? I actually only had done womenswear up until that first presentation and initially I thought it was going to be women’s. I was doing a project on Instagram where I would recreate pictures of me with boys I knew from Instagram and make them pose in my clothes. I created some really cool relationships with some of these boys and one of them became my fitting model/muse. 

So even tough the clothes were originally women's, turns out as we were trying them they looked really good on a boy too. And I decided that it wasn’t really relevant anymore to try and categorize my pieces to one sex only. I myself don't really look whether it's women's or men's when I'm shopping. As long as you feel good in it and it fits your body why restrain yourself. I knew I wanted to show it on guys though. I worked with this really talented casting director and friend, Piotr Chamier, we share the same aesthetic when it comes to casting and he did an amazing job finding boys. What I really appreciate is that even though it was presented during Men's after the show we received loads of press requests for women’s shootings. It’s been about equal with that of the men’s. I am looking forward to seeing how they work in both contexts. 

With regards to the second part of the question, I am struggling to answer that. Truth is I don’t really think in that way. I have long hair so you might say that is the most feminine thing about me but others might find it quite masculine. Likewise the neck of my fit model is long and thin but I don’t think it looks particularly feminine. I really don’t think that way and interestingly I think a lot of people my age and younger are not categorizing through sex or sexuality. 

Who would be your ultimate person to dress? Yesterday I watched Basketball Diaries for the first time and Leonardo DiCaprio is just beautiful and so good in it, he was just twenty years old but looks sixteen. I wish I could have dressed him back in the days, he had that special something about him and also this androgyny that I love. But to answer your question, I love the idea of dressing sons or little brothers of celebrities: for instance Uma Thurman's son is gorgeous, looks just like her but in a boy. Or Pamela Anderson's son is actually really hot too. I recently met up with Niels Schneider's little brother Vassili, and I'd love to dress him for a special project. 

What is your favorite scent? For the presentation I used Potpourri from Santa Maria Novella, it smells amazing and looks really beautiful. It was displayed all over the conservatory where I had the presentation on little ceramics plates I brought back from Kyoto. I wanted the scent to blend in with the natural smell of the boys in the presentation, it was a really hot day, and they were walking around between plants in a manner that evoked cruising. The scent of the potpourri, the boys sweat and the plants just all worked really well together.

Hot! Which are your favorite hide-outs in Paris? I spend most of my free time in London, so I am going to give you my favorite hide-outs there: breakfast at the Towpath in de Beauvoir, their grilled cheese sandwich is to die for, I love walking along the canal, brunch at Rawduck, Epping forest, in the fall the colors are splendid, the British library is the best place to read a book, you need to make an appointment for the reading room and it's great to hide away from the crowd. Then back at the Towpath for drinks and dinner at Gujurati Rasoi, they have my favorite dish on earth there, I always order the same thing.

What turns you on?  A Wolfgang Tillmans picture. I went to see his exhibition at the Tate in London it was simply breathtaking. 

What turns you off?   Being unthoughtful or unconscious. I'm quoting Jake Gyllenhaal, I had to google this answer, I couldn't think of anything that turns me off. 

Can you share with us your latest obsessions? I have discovered this beautiful bookstore in Paris, where they have an amazing selection of queer literature and art. I recently read L’Age d’or by Pierre Herbart which I highly recommend. And I am in the middle of reading Call me by your Name by André Aciman which is the story of a sudden and powerful romance that blossoms between an adolescent boy and a summer guest at his parents villa on the Italian Riviera. It is being released as a film next year and I cannot wait to see how they will translate this beautiful book.

Where would you like to take your brand to next? I have some very exciting projects and collaborations coming up but it is a bit too early to reveal. It is amazing how quickly things can move these days but most of the time it’s just me and I’d like to do things slowly and well rather than rush them. 

What are you doing after this? It's my birthday today [28th of August], so I am going to eat some cake and enjoy a lovely dinner with my family! Originally published in the Fall & Winter 2017/18-Spring 2018 issue of Hercules Universal, Neon Dreams. Out now. 

Alia Bhatt on ruling the box-office, romance with Ranbir Kapoor & fighting anxiety

Zoya Akhtar jokingly calls her Paul the Octopus. Whatever film she says yes to is a bonafide hit. Whatever she says no to goes to the boondocks. Right at this moment, Alia Bhatt is everything right with Bollywood and a much-needed talent that our movies seriously lack. She will be working with S. S. Rajamouli’s next bilingual, RRR, opposite Ram Charan and Jr NTR, a dream she always nurtured. Showbiz corridors also hush-hush that the next Sanjay Leela Bhansali starrer will topline Alia. In addition to this there’s her father, Mahesh Bhatt’s Sadak, Ayan Mukerji’s Brahmastra and of course Karan Johar’s magnum opus Takht. Looks like a packed two years ahead. In between all this she’s found love in the form of Ranbir Kapoor. No sooner did the couple make it public than rumours of trouble in paradise started doing the rounds. In the same breath, there’s talk of their upcoming marriage given Ranbir’s father, Rishi Kapoor’s health. Her current release Gully Boy has seen her in top form internalising the character of Safeena, a spitfire, who rails at convention and cocks a snook at moth-eaten mores. While Abhishek Varman’s Kalank will present her in an epic avatar. It all adds up as the right time to meet my favourite sunshine girl…

What’s the best compliment you’ve received for Gully Boy? Mr Amitabh Bachchan wrote me a lovely letter after Gully Boy. This is the third note I’ve received from him. One was for Highway and the other for Udta Punjab. Both are framed and up on my wall. (Smiles) After Gully Boy, people believe I’m a little crack. They perhaps think, ‘tu thodi si pagal hai, humkomaar sakti hai’. I love the fact that the character of Safeena made such an impact. I didn’t expect this kind of response. For me it was a good film that I got for free because of Ranveer Singh. You’re like Paul the Octopus, you can foresee the right scripts. Zoya (Akhtar) also calls me Paul the Octopus. But I’ve gone wrong once. I had loved that script too. Perhaps, the execution went wrong. I choose my films as an audience. I’m a restless person. I can barely hold a conversation with a semi-boring person. So, imagine me playing a semi-boring character. Either it should scare me or be something in my space, but with a twist. Gully Boy was an alien space. How did you own it? We did workshops. Also, there’s a kind of ‘buntai’ Mumbai chick hidden within me. I began speaking like that. I felt Safeena was me. The space was alien to me. But not the emotion. People have felt those emotions but no one’s expressed that kind of rage or jealousy. Have you ever beaten up anyone?   No. Never. That’s a lie I swear I’ve never had a cat fight. I don’t have that confrontational ability. I’m a chuha (mouse) type of person in real life. I have this need to please people. I don’t want people to not like me. But I do identify with that emotion, that feeling. Like Safeena says, “Ek life hai aur ek tu hai. Upar se woh ghus rahi hai beech main…” I love the dialogue that I have one life and one you. Why is she taking that away from me? That thought was so beautiful. Is your relationship with your parents (Mahesh Bhatt and Soni Razdan) a bit like that in Gully Boy? No. My parents have never raised their hand on me. Were they conservative? Definitely not. But I understand that emotion in the film where they talk about me lying. I used to lie a lot to my parents though I didn’t want to. Also, the bathroom scene with Ranveer Singh was wonderful… When Ranveer was doing the scene, I was not shooting that day. But I went on the set at 7 am to give him cues so he could feel like he was talking to me. Similarly, he came to give me cues when I shot my scene two months later. Listening to his voice helped. When an AD gives cues, it’s difficult to feel the tension. Do intense roles, like the one in Gully Boy, take a toll on you? It took a toll for sure. Kalank also took a toll on me. Because I was shooting simultaneously for Brahmastra and Gully Boy. Balancing Kalank and Brahmastra was difficult too because I hardly slept. It was demanding physically and emotionally. Kalank is my first costume drama. It would take one-and-a- half-hour to do my hair and make-up. In Kalank, I play a typical heroine but with layered intensity. I was uncomfortable shooting in heavy lehengas in the month of May at Filmcity. It was exhausting and I feared messing up. I wanted the conviction to come across. I’m scared because it’s something away from what I’ve done before. But your roles have always been edgy and challenging… Kalank is not edgy, it’s an Indian world but with intensity. It’s an epic drama. Ranveer Singh and Ranbir Kapor – how different are they as co-stars? They’re both different as actors. When Ranveer is excited, it’s visible. When his preparation is on, you’re aware of his focus, his energy… You can see he’s getting into his shot. But with Ranbir, I wouldn’t know what he’s thinking. He could be thinking of butter chicken yet he’d be giving a shot. That’s the way he is. So Ranveer has more technique? I don’t know about technique. But his process is more visible. I don’t think Ranbir has a process. He’s just gifted, he just comes and does. There’s no thought. But both are ‘chill’ on the set.   You seem to have become like the female Ranbir Kapoor having developed an air of detachment… I’ve always been like that. It has nothing to do with Ranbir. People keep saying Ranbir and I are so similar. I don’t think he’s detached. We don’t have or rather I don’t have the ability to pretend. So, if I’m interested, I’m interested. Also by default, my face wears a perpetual frown. I could be feeling ecstatic. But you wouldn’t know that because I’ve got this frown on my face. So, it’s not because of Ranbir. I’ve always been this way. Of late, there’s just so much going on in my mind, it’s not a good thing. I’m not present in the moment. I’m constantly flying somewhere else. Ranbir is not like that. He’s quite the opposite. The best advice on life, work or relationships that Ranbir has given you… I stress about things that are not in my control. I’m an over thinker. I get anxious. There was a period when I was working hard and I was stressed. Ranbir told me if you’re working hard, you need not worry about anything else. Do the best you can and just let everything else be. That helped me. I still stress but it’s easier for me to now let it be. The maximum I can do is put in my 100 per cent. I don’t need to worry about the results.   Are you a chronic worrier? Ya, but I’ve calmed down of late. I guess it happened this year. What brings you anxiety? I want my films to do well. But that’s not my biggest stress and fear. I get stressed if my friend is stressed about something. Say, if something is bothering Ayan (Mukerji) or Abhishek (Varman), it stresses me. Or if I have many things to do and I’m unable to do everything, it stresses me. I have bouts of anxiety every now and then. But I’ve found a way to move around it. You know you will feel low. But that only makes the high feel better. Other than your movies, what else gives you a high? Your relationship? No ya. What’s giving me a big high right now is my relationship with myself. It’s another level of connection and a feeling of growing up that I’m experiencing right now. I’ve turned 26 a few days back. I’ve become sensitive to my environment. If I feel an environment will be too frantic for me, then I don’t go out. I sit in my room, I stay with myself, I watch something, I read a book… I’m so passionate right now that I’m getting scared. I’m so passionate that I’m also getting excited. How do you keep calm? You’ve got to constantly tell yourself to calm down. The possibility of the future is so immense, it’s like being a kid in candy land. At the same time, you don’t want to get lost and be separated from your family and friends. So, it’s important for me to stay grounded. And also, remain focussed on my work and normal life. Of course, just seeing your efforts flower and the efforts of your friends’ flower – for example, when we launched the logo of Brahmastra in the sky, I got so emotional. We’ve been talking about this film for so many years and now t’s a reality. It’s such an ambitious film. There was a point when I felt like ki kuch hoga hi nahi. I’ve lived with Abhishek on Kalank too. Karan (Johar) had mentioned this one line about the film during Student Of The Year. It was a film he wanted to make and then it went on to Abhishek. So, the journey seems unreal. Do you get time to nurture your relationship with yourself? I do take that time.Even if I’m tired after a shoot, I don’t come and hit the bed immediately. I listen to music, I reflect, I read… I like waking up early in the morning so I can glance through the newspaper. I gather all my thoughts, answer messages, speak to people as to what I can do more creatively. I think about my characters. I reflect on the day’s work. I wasn’t getting this ‘reflection’ time in the middle of last year. I just kept shooting. I began to feel like a robot. That’s when I started suffering from anxiety. My days are still hectic but I’m giving time to myself. Did it take a toll on your health? Ya, more than anything it affected my mental health. Thankfully, I didn’t fall ill. But I was just so annoyed and sleep deprived. How do you work then? Have you ever faced a situation where you felt the need to see a counsellor? Ya, I have. I haven’t been depressed but I’ve had bouts of anxiety. It comes and goes. It’s been happening quite a bit since the past five to six months. It’s not like an anxiety attack but I just feel low. Thankfully, I’m aware of it because of my sister (Shaheen Bhatt). She’s fought depression. I’ve read her book. No matter how bad it is,I just let myself feel it. Sometimes, I feel like crying for no reason. Then it passes. Initially, I’d be a little confused. I’d constantly give reasons that it’s because of work or maybe I’m tired or haven’t been able to meet anyone... The kind of personality I have, I become a little on the edge. I spoke to friends about it. I spoke to Ayan about it, I spoke to my sister’s friend Rohan (Joshi). Everyone told me that you’ve got to realise that it will go away. What’s important is to accept it and not say that you’re fine. If you’re not feeling fine, then you should just say you’re not feeling fine.   Why didn’t you seek professional help then? I wanted to but it’s not obviously reached that place where I’m desperate to speak to someone. So, I guess I’m fine. We’re privileged to be in this business and to be living this life. But a tiredness can seep in and make you feel low. There could be a scientific explanation for it as well. But I’m not shy or scared to accept that I’m feeling low. I just have to let it pass. But the time when it’s there, it’s a bit weird. I don’t know how to explain that. What about social anxiety? Yes, I do experience social anxiety. If I’m sitting in a group of 10 to 15 people, who I’m connected to, I’m fine. But if I go for a party or a wedding, I go wild because I don’t know what to talk to people. I can’t make small talk. Hello ke baad mein kya bolun. Then I become fake. People who know me say why are you going weird. Do you feel judged? No. Maybe, I’m not judged. Do you worry because you’re a people pleaser? I’m not a people pleaser. I just want people to like me. I don’t want to upset anyone in my life. I want to be a person, who’s loved by everyone. One and all. The gossip is you’re getting married within a year. That in April your parents are doing a roka. The only ‘Roka’ I’m going to is the restaurant in London. There’s no roka happening for me. And why are you putting a year to my marriage? Okay, how do you tackle someone as difficult as Ranbir Kapoor? He’s not difficult. He’s a gem. But he’s had a troubled past… How does it matter?It’s part of someone’s life and who cares. Aur main thodi na kam hoon. So, when did you decide that this was the guy? When I met him for the first time in my life. Again, let me tell you he’s not difficult. He’s a supremely simple person. He’s such a nice human being that I wish I was as good as him. As an actor, as a person, as everything. He’s way better a person thanI am. And about getting married? Well, that’s the only thing that’s irritating right now. Every morning I wake up to the news that I’m  getting married. I tell him what the hell. I guess he’s used to it. Do you believe some rival actress started the rumour? I hope no one is rivalling with me. Marriage is not even in my bandwidth. There’s too much happening in terms of work and life. I’m not saying that I can’t be married and work as well. But I’m really too young. I’ve no plans of getting married right now. That’s it. It has to wait. The rumours probably began when you were seen by Ranbir’s side in New York, where his dad Rishi Kapoor is undergoing treatment… Ya. I hope it’s coming from a nice place, where people are actually excited about it. That’s why I let it be. I’m not offended or angry at all. Getting married is a trend right now but this is one trend I’m not following. Is being in this relationship tough compared to your previous ones? No. It’s not a relationship. It’s a friendship. I’m saying this with all genuineness and honesty. It’s beautiful. I’m walking on stars and clouds right now. The best part is that we’re two individuals, who are living our own professional lives in its full form right now. He’s shooting continuously. So am I. It’s not a situation where you’ll see us constantly together. That’s the true mark of a comfortable relationship. Nazar na lage. In fact, there’s a beautiful book titled My Brilliant Friend. Ranbir’s my brilliant friend.   Credits: Filmfare Read the full article

Characters: Kabir Mittal (kM)- retired wrestler. Tired of looking for love he makes a business arrangement with Karan sharma who  offers his young daughter in marriage in order for Kabir to pay off his debts. Kabir  is through with love. He wants someone solely to warm his bed and give him children.- Karan sharma- A cruel man who has squandered all his money on gambling his only asset being his 18 year old daughter. He forces her unwillingly into a marriage with Kabir. Pooja Sharma- A shy 18 year old girl, forced by her abusive father to marry kabir. Summary- A young girl is forced into a marriage with a man who seems as cruel as her father. Disclaimer- I don't own Kabir Mittal or the undertaker. This is just another story as a result of too many late nights spent listening to my muses (mainly My Taker Muse who really is quite bossy about how these stories go, lol) Kabir Mittal  sat in the bar listening to karan drone on. They had already reached an agreement he wished Jamison would just shut up. He took a sip of his beer and tried to focus on what Jamison was saying. "Pooja  is a really good cook, she keeps our house spotless. She's young so she can give you plenty of babies." Karan was saying. Kabir had a distaste for this man, he was a little to willing to sell his only child to pay off his debts. "Does she agree to this?" Kabir growled at him.  "Well of course. I wouldn't force her to marry someone. Pooja likes the finer things. I can't give them to her anymore. She knows with you she will be well taken care of in exchange for being a wife and a mother. She's perfectly happy to marry you." Karan lied through his teeth. The truth was Pooja had thrown a fit, the only one he had ever seen her throw she  was a quite child always had been. Any childish behavior over the years on her part had been ended quickly by karan's belt. He didn't mind beating her when he had to. He felt it was his right as her father. So naturally Pooja had grown into a quite and scared young girl, who tried her best not to draw her father's attention. She had refused to marry kabir and Karan had beaten all the resistance out of her over the last few days. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree kabir thought. The girl was willing to sell her self for a few luxuries. Well that was to his benefit. After his failed marriage kabir had given up on love. Now he wanted a wife to cook, clean and have babies for him. No emotions attached. A willing bed partner when he wanted one and some one to give him the children he so desperately wanted. He had covered all his bases. He gave contracts to karan to have her sign. If she ever left she took nothing with her and any children they had stayed with him. Karan had returned them signed.+ "After the wedding tomorrow, I will have the check for you." Kabir said. Karan rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He would be getting enough to start over and then some. kabir stood up. "Have her at my house at 2:00pm tomorrow." kabir said and he walked off. Karan jumped up and started out to his car. That little brat had better cooperate; he had too much to lose if she didn't.      inlovewithRikara The wedding Part 2 Pooja laid across her bed with her sketch pad open drawing the scene that was in her mind. The thing about Pooja was she could block out the unhappy things that happened to her and she had learned to be happy with the small pleasures in life. She was an Artistic person. She loved to draw and paint and was actually quite good. She also played the piano. She could sit and play for hours lost in her own world. Most people thought Pooja was a simple minded girl, bur she actually just stayed in her own little world most of the time ignoring the harsh reality that went on around her. Pooja had black hair and wide brown eyes. She was short 5"2 and weighed 100 pounds but was nicely proportioned. She had a smattering of freckles on her face which gave her an innocent fresh faced appearancei Pooja ignoredthe pain in her body and worked on her sketch. "Pooja!" He fathers voice bellowed through the house. Pooja sighed and put up the sketch pad. Her father is the only one who ever called her by her proper name. She hated it. She got up and slowly walked downstairs to see what he wanted. "Yes Father." She said when she entered the living room. Karan was pouring himself a drink. He looked up at pooja. God the girl was pathetic. She was lucky she was going to get a husband. She looked like a child and always would with that hair and freckles, plus karan figured she wasn't to smart she always had her head in the clouds day dreaming. "Pooja I hope you not going to give me any more trouble." Karan said fingering his belt. "No sir, I'll do as you say." Pooja answered looking down. "Good, this man is a good match for you. You will be well taken care of. He's rich. I've done well for you girl finding you a good husband." Karan said sipping his drink. Pooja didn't answer. She stared down at the floor. "Father I don't know any thing about, well you know...Being married." Pooja said blushing and looking away. Karan sighed, he wished the girls mother was alive to explain things to her. Suman  had died in a car accident when Pooja was 5. "Pooja just do what your husband tells you too, he will educate you in such things." Karan said pouring himself another drink. Pooja sighed and looked away. She was very ignorant about sex and didn't have a clue about any thing. It wasn't comforting to go into a marriage not knowing a thing. What kind of man was she marrying anyway that had to buy a wife? Pooja   assumed he was just as cruel as her father. He father had told her he wanted someone to have children for him and to cook and clean. Sounded like he wanted a slave to, Pooja She wasn't looking forward to this marriage; in fact the dread was burning a hole in her stomach. But Pooja had been brutalized to much over her short life to stand up to her father. He one act of defiance had been ended with two severe beating which she had no wish to repeat. "Is dinner ready?" Karan asked. Pooja bit her lip. She always had dinner ready at the same time. But with every thing going on she had slipped so far in her little world today she had forgot about dinner. "No sir." Pooja whispered. Karan undid his belt and pointed to the couch. Pooja scurried over and bent over the arm, she closed her eyes and went to a safe place in her mind. Kabir sat in his den drinking a beer. Tomorrow was the big day. He looked around the den. It needed a woman's touch. He had just bought the house a few weeks ago. It was isolated miles away from everything and no neighbor. He still had the huge home in Indore n, but this was where he and his wife would be living. It was nice house, 4 bedrooms 2 and a half baths. A nice size kitchen and dining room. The house was surrounded by lot of land and woods. He wanted a house small enough where his wife could take care of the cleaning with no help. There would be no maids to wait on her. He was going to have a proper wife who did the cooking and cleaning for her self. He remembered his ex wfe with a smirk. She couldn't even fry an egg or boil water. He had to hire maid just to clean up after them. She  couldn't do anything for herself, spoiled rich bitch. Well all that was over his new wife was going to have too earn her keep. No shopping all day and having maids to cook and clean. No refusing to have children because it might ruin her figure. As far as Kabir was concerned they should go back to arranged marriages and a time when women knew there place, everyone would be much better off. He got up and headed off to bed. He had a lot to do tomorrow, might as well get to bed. Poojai lay in the bed under the covers crying. She didn't cry in front of her father, but here it was safe. She was sobbing uncontrollably. Her body ached and she was scared. What kind of life did she have in front of her? She had packed up her art supplies and her books and her clothes. She was al ready to leave this house tomorrow. She should be glad, but this man she was to marry sounded just as bad as her father. He would probably beat her too. Pooja lay there a long time until she had cried herself.  First night Part 3 Pooja stood on the porch of the house looking around. It was a beautiful place. The house was nice a lot nicer than theirs. It was two story brick house. It was surrounded by a huge stone wall and had a security gate up. The man obviously liked his privacy. The whole place was wonderful. She would have many things to paint and sketch here. "Wake up girl and stop you're damn daydreaming." Karan said. Pooja jumped at her father's voice. Karan  rang the door bell. The door opened and Pooja about passed out on the spot. This man was huge. He towered over her. He was close to 6 foot tall. He had auburn short hair. He had the deepest brown eyes Pooja had ever seen, and a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache. He was wearing khaki dress pants and a dark blue polo shirt. Pooja didn't like the way he was eyeing her like she was a piece of property he was checking out. She blushed and looked away from him. "The minister is waiting." Kabir growled. He stood back to let them in. Pooja just stood there unable to move. He father had to shove her in the door. "Move girl." Karan snapped. Pooja  stumbled in the house. Kabir  closed the door behind them. He stared at pooja. She was a pretty girl, but she looked young. They would certainly make pretty babies together. "Ya sure she's 18?" Kabir growled. "Of course, she just has a baby face." Karan said. Kabir  grabbed her arm and pulled her in the den where a minister stood waiting. She didn't resist. This man was huge ten times bigger than her father. She shivered as she imagined the damage he could do if he hit her. She stood there beside the big man and repeated the vows back as if in a trance. Her father would kill her if she messed up so she did what she had been told. Kabir watched her. She seemed to be in a daze of some sort. She also seemed very docile. Kabir grinned. "Good. He wanted an obedient wife. It would make things easier for him" he thought. The minister pronounced them man and wife. Kabir leaned down and kissed her quickly on the cheek and that was that. "Pooja  go upstairs and wait in our room. I will bring your things up in a minute. It's the second door on the right side of the hall." Kabir said. Pooja  got up and went out to the foyer and started up the stairs. Kabir watched her. He was very pleased with her. She did exactly what he said. "She's a good girl. She will make you a good wife." Karan said. Kabir paid the minister and he left. Then he pulled out a check and handed it to karan "Our business is concluded." Kabir said dismissing him. "If you have any trouble with her call me." Karan  said. "If I have any trouble, I will deal with it my self." Kabir said coldly He didn't like this man and wanted him out of his house. "Well of course." Karan said. He was eager to go and start spending the money anyway. Kabir showed him to the door. "Nice doing business with you Kabir." Karan said. "Yea." Kabir said looking at him derisively. Kabir closed the door and picked up pooja's bags and headed upstairs. Pooja had found the bedroom. It was huge and done in Brown and hunter green. The bed was the biggest she had ever seen. There was a balcony that had a table and chairs set up on it. The bathroom was huge with a sunken tub it was also done in brown and green. Pooja went back to the bedroom and sat down on the bed to wait. She didn't have long. Kabir came barreling through the door and set her luggage down. "You can unpack later." Kabir said. Pooja couldn't bring her self to look at him. He was scary. Kabir went over to her and lifted her chin. "Get your clothes off and get in the bed. I'll be out in a minute." Kabir said. Pooja shivered as he walked in the bathroom. She did as he said and climbed under the covers. Pooja was trembling she was so scared. She had no idea what to expect. Pooja felt the mattress dip as Kabir climbed in the bed. He pulled Pooja to him and kissed her hard on her mouth parting her lips with his tongue. Pooja stiffened. Kabir slid his tongue in her mouth. If Pooja had known what to expect she might have enjoyed it, but she was overwhelmed and frightened. Kabir ran his hands down her body grabbing her breast and pinching her nipple. Pooja was trembling in fear which Kabir misunderstood, he though she was as excited as him. He moved on top of her and pressed his huge erection against her. Pooja lost it at that moment. She screamed and burst into tears. Kabir was shocked and moved off of her and jumped up. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Kabir snapped. "I I ...Never ...I never been with a man." Pooja stuttered out turning bright red. She sat there bawling like a baby. "Oh shit this is just great. Just what I need a hysterical virgin." Kabir snapped. Pooja turned on her stomach and buried her face in the pillow crying. "Stop that damn crying." Kabir said turning around toward the bed. What he saw caused him to curse even louder. "Fuck." Kabir cursed. From the top of her back to her ankles were covered with bruises and belt marks. Kabir sat down on the bed. "Pooja set up now." Kabir said. Pooja did as she was told. She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands attempting to stop her tears. "He forced you to marry me didn't he?" Kabir said. Pooja looked down afraid to answer. Kabir forced her chin up. "Answer me." Kabir said harshly. "Yes." Pooja said in a trembling voice. "Shit." Kabir said letting go of her chin. Kabir stood up pissed as hell. That bastard lied to him. The last thing he needed was some hysterical little girl that was forced into this. He picked up his cell phone and called Karan. "Get your ass back to my house now!" Kabir yelled and hung up. Pooja jumped at his yelling. "Get dressed." Kabir snapped at her. "What are you going to do?" Pooja asked in fear. "The deal is off. I sending you back to your father. We will have the marriage annulled." Kabir said in agitation. Pooja was scared as she had ever been. Her father would kill her. The tears started rolling down her face again. Kabir slid his pants on. He looked at Pooja and seen she was crying again. "Stop that damn crying." Kabir snapped. Pooja tried to stop but she couldn't. "Please don't send me back." Pooja whispered. Kabir sat down on the bed and looked at her. "Come here." Kabir ordered. Pooja scooted over to set in front of him. "Look at me." Kabir said. Pooja looked up at him. "Why?" He asked. "He'll kill me." Pooja said. "I need to think. Stay here I'll be back in a few minutes." Kabir said and left the room. Pooja sat on the bed not moving. She just couldn't go back to her father. She would do whatever Kabir said if he just didn't make her go back.

http://jodifiction.blogspot.com/2020/02/jabir-ff-unwanted-wedding-ebss-ff-ek.html

Monday Music: Parekh & Singh / Wes Anderson & Colonial Legacy

A lovely, little group to stumble across as the summer nights linger a little longer than we deserve in the northern hemisphere and we have need of songs with which to further enjoy the lengthened twilights and unnamable oranges and pinks which play on clouds or air pollution, depending on your location.

The venn diagram of people who would enjoy Parekh & Singh and people who would enjoy quirky coming of age comedies with an OCD level of attention to whimsical detail and the meticulous direction of Wes Anderson, has a large overlap, as you can see in the chart below.

It is then a smart branding move of Parekh & Singh, with their perfectly pocket sized indie dream pop tunes to make music videos in tribute to Wes Anderson, the divisive, brilliant auteur, and favorite of the indie set. 

I quite like this music. It’s good. But, what I find really interesting here, is thinking about Wes Anderson’s films and specifically the criticism he faces when it comes to his handling of minority and foreign characters, especially in the context of two Indian guys taking his work, which at times has indeed, been questionable, especially in its portrayel of Parekh & Singh’s fellow countrymen, and other south asians.  

I’m an ardent W.A. fan, but I do not mind if people jump on Anderson for Gene Hackman’s character being openly (and hilariously) racist in Royal Tenenbaums or if they have a problem with Owen Wilson’s Custer obsessed, war paint donning character in the same film. In all honesty, the mention of the tongue-in-cheek “Chick-chaw” trail in Moonrise Kingdom always makes me cringe, even though I love that film. I appreciate when people are aware enough to point out uncomfortable moments of appropriation in his films and I do not make apologies for him. But, I personally don’t get too bent out of shape over that stuff when it pops up in movies, especially when I think that this director (white man, he may be) is smart enough and sensitive enough to be pointing out the problems of race in society through showing cartoon versions of racism. My argument would be that Anderson doesn’t get race right all the time, but he might actually be doing better work with it than we might have previously thought, given the knock that Wes Anderson and White are synonyms.

(Eli Cash high on mescaline wearing war paint, Royal Tenenbaums)

Take Royal Tenenbaums. Hackman’s character Royal is an admitted “asshole” after all and his racism is a part of that lost old white man-ness of his character. Eli Cash, Owen Wison’s character, and the other great offender within the ensemble cast, is a drug addicted sendup of white academics who get way to deep into the culture they “study,” and go totally off the rails, wearing funny hats and in Cash’s case, writing in a “sort of obsolete vernacular.” The one prominent black character in any of Anderson’s ensemble casts is Henry Sherman, played by Danny Glover. Sherman certainly is largely there as a target for Hackman’s racist comedy (”Coltrane,” “You want to talk some jive!? I’ll talk some jive!”) but Glover’s character is also successful accountant and ends up marrying Royal’s wife, played by Anjelica Houston, which obviously upends a lot of stereotypes of black folks in cinema. 

(The great back and forth between Glover and Hackman, Royal Tenenbaums)

Thinking about it now, I actually think Royal’s racist moments, are not only for easy-ish laughs, but to also identify him as a man out of time, as a tragically flawed hero. In many ways, Royal Tenenbaums is a very American movie, about a family which chases innovation and prestige, dedicating itself to upholding a strong protestant work ethic, only to come up short despite all of their talent because in the end the world is hard and we are all broken to some degree, and all that really matters is love and tending your own garden, as Voltaire might say. The tragedy and triumph of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s writing and life sings throughout all of Anderson’s American set films (especially in RT and Rushmore, which was inspired by Fitzgerald’s “The Last Tycoon”).  

What better sin to possess the patriarch of this dying star of an American family with than a kind of dwindling, last gasp of the white supremacy. Royal has to overcome many things in order to redeem himself by films end -- abandoning his family -- but he also must overcome a bigoted white machismo, as he finds himself outmatched not only by a changing, more progressive society, but also more directly by a strong, smart, and handsome black man, who has won the heart of his wife, because he is a better man than our hero could ever be. 

Just because an issue is dark and complicated, doesn’t mean it can’t serve well in a colorful comedy--see the way Anderson also handles mental illness, anxiety and suicide in this film, in a way which doesn’t drag the proceedings into total despair, or interrupt the pace, or comedic stability of the overall work, but at the same time, does not treat these topics as inconsequential, but in fact addresses them with respect. 

(Royal Tenenbaum and Henry Sherman making amends, Royal Tenenbaums)

In short, I think it’s fair to criticize Anderson. If you just don’t like his style, fair, his talent may not engulf you the way it does myself and other fans, and this certainly alters how we view his appropriation, or how he writes for characters of color. I get it. It’s fair to cry foul over a movie like Tarantino’s Django Unchained, and say, maybe, white film makers just shouldn’t put words into the mouths of black actors when explosive issues of race are involved. I can respect that because it comes from a position of historical knowledge in which, taking in the scope of slavery, anti-blackness, civil rights, and white supremacy, it’s almost too much to deal with, and honestly, who needs a white guy trying to write blackness onto the screen, especially when plenty of black filmmakers don’t get the same shot. 

If you don’t like Anderson’s precious, meticulous aesthetic (or Tarantino’s over the topness, for that matter), which I can understand, his inclusion of minorities and foreigners (which he has made a space for since his first film) is an easy target. But I think it’s worthwhile to consider this: W.A. is a white dude writing racially charged dialogues and characters, but what is that dialogue and what are those characters doing?

(Anthony, Inez, and Dignan from Bottle Rocket)

I met Wes once, at an NPR office of all places, and so I picture his tired but kind, press tour handshake and smile, when I think of him as I write this. He wears his influences on his sleeve. A white, liberal boy from Texas with a hard on for 60s European cinema and British folk/rock music, who is a nice guy in an expensive camel hair blazer. A soft voiced auteur who seems both normal and a bit snobby, with a singular vision within filmmaking. 

Still, I can sympathize with those critics who call him out, and I don’t necessarily disagree with their points. It’s important to have watchdogs out there to not let people get away with shit concerning race, because some really serious, bad stuff can go down if marginalization is the norm, like life or death stuff, not just annoyances from silly movies. Although, I do feel bad for these critics if they haven’t experienced  the brilliance of Rushmore, the first movie I remember sitting down and watching and afterwards, coming out of the theater,  telling my buddies Josh and Phillip, whoa, that was like a really good film.

(”Payback Scene” from Rushmore, featuring The Who’s “A Quick One While He’s Away”

So, back to Parekh & Singh... Two private school kids from Kolkata who do the indie dream pop thing as well as anyone in the states or Britain, with no trace of an accent. Obviously, British colonialism has left a trace on these guys. Is that a bad thing? Well, I sure like this music, and judging from their pin-point accuracy in performing this style, they sure like British music and have studied the great indie pop of the 90s and 00s from the isles and stateside. And what does their adoption of the Anderson aesthetic in their promotional videos and photographs say? Well, obviously, like many indie pop fans, they enjoy his films. It’s an eye catching visual to replicate and it got my attention, as I would imagine it got many of the hundreds of thousands of people who have viewed their videos’ attention. 

The intrigue arrives when we consider that Anderson’s least successful film, both as a film and a cultural product handling race, is Darjeeling Limited. It’s his most exploitative work by a mile, setting a story of three rich white brothers (played by Jason Schwartzman, Owen Wilson, and Adrian Brody) on a farce of a spiritual journey to reconnect with their nun-mother who is living somewhere in India. They travel by train and India, like classic films from the 50s and 60s, stands in for the “exotic” locale where rich white people find out something. 

(Darjeeling Limited trailer)

There are two supporting actors of south asian descent on the train --which serves brilliantly from a cinematography point of view as the main setting-- played by Amara Karan and Waris Ahluwalia, but they have little more complexity than the colored folks in a Tin Tin comic, that is to say not much (that is to also say, I cherish my Tin Tin comics, even Le Lotus Bleu.)

(Amara Karan plays “Rita” in Darjeeling Limited)

The criticism of Anderson, privileged, white boy director, is most founded here. The movie--rewatching some scenes, now--still has a ton of great moments, though the script is more uneven than his best work (especially the films cowritten by Owen Wilson) and the chemistry between the leads is not great. But when it comes to his treatment of India, there are a number of head shaking moments to choose falling into the cliches of bad, racist costuming, cultural mishandling (especially in terms of religion), exoticization of "oriental” women, white savior complexes, and the fact that the country is little more than literal window dressing from the inside of a train, a liminal but safe compartment from which these three western brothers bicker like children and try to find meaning while taking drugs, fucking hot chicks, and being tourists playing at the Beatles-y spirituality which so many westerners define India by. So, criticism deserved on this one, I say. It’s one thing when W.A.’s setting is Brooklyn or a prep school, because Anderson has some ownership over this cultural context. He has very little ownership over India. He took a trip there, enjoys Bollywood, but the conflation of the country and the superficiality with which he treats it, especially given how necessarily superficial and visually focused his movies are, that’s a little bit of a deal. 

Still, some great scenes, amazing shots, great use of The Kinks, and funny lines. 

(Brody, Wilson, and Schwartzmen in Darjeeling Limited)

So, the question I would love answered is what do Parekh & Singh think, as Indian dudes who love Wes Anderson about Darjeeling Limited. They probably love it, the same way, as an east/southeast asian dude, I really like Karate Kid or don’t actually mind Last Samurai, because 1.) Tom Cruise is fucking awesome always (in movies) and 2.) it’s a fucking movie and my outrage is better spent elsewhere. But, perhaps there’s something more annoying about Anderson’s missteps in Darjeeling than those hollywood blockbusters precisely because Anderson wears a camel hair blazer to an NPR interview with Robin Young. Artsy, bookish liberals are supposed to know better where big hollywood productions don’t give a shit about race sensitivity and just want to make money, so, duh, Tom Cruise totally should be the centerpiece of a movie that takes place in Japan. Still, I’m curious what Parekh and Singh would think (I’ve also texted several south asian friends on their Darjeeling feelings, realizing I’ve never asked). 

Anderson’s aesthetic is highly colonial. He loves the prim and proper style of the British Empire, the bright colors of the military uniforms, and the organization inherit in Britain’s grotesque domination of much of the world in the 19th and 20th century. 

(British Colonial style)

Musically, Anderson’s heavy use of 1960s British music is interesting because it came at a pivotal time in British and western history. It was the soundtrack of a dying Empire and an emerging globalized (American) world. I ask myself, was the British Invasion with all of its appropriation (Rolling Stones=Blues, then country, Kinks=Rock, Hillbilly) the swan song of an empire or a the sonic marking of a sea change towards a more progressive society? 

(The Kinks)

Concerning film, Anderson borrows heavily from French New Wave cinema and classic Italian masters, and we must ask, similarly to his British Invasion admiration/fetish, is this a continuation of brilliant but white-washed and colonial film making in the guise of mid century cultural change within these respective western european countries, or was this film making truly pushing towards a more culturally inclusive and aware future?

(Seberg et Belmondo, A Bout de Souffle (Breathless))

So, again, Parekh & Singh: Sons of colonial subjects taking the culture of their former conquerers and making their own music, or subjects of a continued colonial legacy? Probably both. Having grown up Vietnamese, but fully appreciating the French culture my mother was born into in Saigon, I don’t think it’s such an easy thing to demarcate. French culture is my culture, even if, I think French colonialism was bullshit, horrible, and wrong. British culture is Indian culture for some Indians, probably moreso of upper class kids like Parekh and Singh, and their private school crowd. No judgement on any individual actors. By looking at their work, as well as Anderson’s we can take a minute to reflect on the deeply engrained transnational, colonial influences, and the good and bad of this legacy in art, and in the world.

At the end of the day, this is talented group making good tunes and using a popular director’s style to promote their music, and I’m fine leaving it there. As an academic-ish, I do appreciate their videos for making me think more deeply about Anderson’s work and history, I guess. 

Also, I want to mention, that, after Darjeeling Limited and the ultra-white, school boy fantasy Moonrise Kingdom (a great film, despite the “Chick-chaw trail), I really loved Anderson’s next film Grand Budapest Hotel featured Tony Revolori, a Guatemalan-American actor as the film’s hero. I’m sure Parekh & Singh, like myself, appreciated seeing a brown skin kid as their hero, especially in what was perhaps Anderson’s best work to date.

(Tony Revolori as Zero in Grand Budapest Hotel)

Of rats, dogs, and cinnamon stars

To @rest-in-bees from @scentedglitterpeace

——

5:30

*riing* *riing*

A high-pitched, annoying noise.

*Riing* *riing*

“Shion…”

A low, half asleep complaint.

*Riing* *Riing*

“uum…”

An equally low, even more asleep moan.

*Riiing* *riing*

“Shion, shut that damn thing off !”

A snap.

*Riiing* *BANG*

Shion opened his eyes, only to see his room in the dim artificial light of Lost-Town that had made its way through the window. The alarm clock was thankfully still in one piece, a beautiful hand still on it. The ecologist and now active member of the restructuration committee of New-06 putted a hand behind him, blindly searching for a contact whit the man he shared his bed with. He wasn’t disappointed when long fingers tangled with his, the arm that has came above him to shut down the alarm finding a place on his torso, a hot breath tickling his neck. The white-haired boy looked once again at the alarm. He still had time. Surely the town could do with him spending five more minutes under Nezumi’s arms. Feeling like he was in heaven, he closed his eyes.

6:12

Sighing, Shion opened once again his eyes. Slowly awaking, he looked at the red numbers on the alarm clock.

Holly Shit !

The white-haired boy bolted out of the bed. Well, tried. The strong arm that had lowered to rest on his waist kept him firmly in place.

“Nezumi,” pleaded the teenager, squirming under the arms of his mate, “let me go, I’m gonna be late”.

“Why ?” Came the short, still asleep response, “They sure don’t need you this early. Your first meeting isn’t until 9 anyway”

 “I…” the young man untangled himself from the arms on him, vaguely wandering why Nezumi always knew his whole planning “want to…” he kicked the cover aside, leaving a fair part to the other boy, “finish a report this morning.” He finally succeeded in getting out of the bed. “And anyway, I’m not arguing with you on this again.” Shion hurried himself in the bathroom, intending to take a quick shower and get dressed.

6:22

As the white-haired boy entered the kitchen, he was assaulted by the smell of freshly backed bread. His mother and Nezumi where already working by the ovens. How the former block-east resident has managed to get from lump on the bed to ready and alert in less than five minutes, Shion would never know. He took his coat and bag, ready to leave to his office when he heard his lovers’ voice.

“Shion.” The “Rat” gave him a gaze full of disapprobation. “Sit down and eat some breakfast”.

The scientific sighed “You know I don’t have time”.

The only answer was a clipping tongue.

“Shion.” Said the feminine voice of his mother. “Just take a seat, ok ?”

The teenager thought about arguing for four solid seconds, before sitting on a chair. No one could tell “no” to Karan. No even her own son. Especially not her son.

“You too Nezumi,” the beaker continued, “go and sit at the table, I’ll finish this.”

The raven-haired boy opened his mouth but one look from the older woman made him rethink his opinion and sit next to Shion. The ecologist grinned discretely. Yup. No one was arguing with his mother.

Soon, three mugs of tea and a pie Shion have never seen before where on the table.

“Kaki pie,” explained Karan, cutting three slices and sitting in front of the boys. “A costumer has a huge production this year and asked me if I was interested in buying him some, so I’m trying it.”

Shion took a bite. As usual, Karan’s food was delicious, even if it was the first time she made the recipe. But he really really didn’t have time for a long breakfast. He finished his food, and went back to gathering his stuff. He vaguely heard his mother tell something at Nezumi about a grocery run, and, as usual, the taller boy was ready and at the door waiting for him before he even had the time to put his coat on.

He bent to receive a kiss on the forehead from his mother, wishing her a good day, and promising not to come home too late. The boy smiled of the warmness of his lone family member touch while stepping in the cold air of the early morning.

6:52

New-06 was slowly awaking as Shion and Nezumi made their way through the streets, but the sun was nowhere in sight. Winter has made its way down the city a few weeks ago, covering everything with a thin film of ice. Shion sighed, his breath making a cloud in the December air. He had spent the previous winter in block-west, protected from the cold by an old heater and Nezumi’s body heat. So much had happened since. In just a year, the wall has fallen, taking No.6 with it. Almost a year ago, he had lost his best friend and had feared to lose the person he loved the most on the cold white corridors of the correctional facility. Almost a year ago he had killed a man. He was still having nightmare about every one of those things. But in the beginning of the spring, he had reunited with his mother, he had got the chance to introduce her to Nezumi.

And then… and then everything had happened really fast. While Nezumi was still recovering from his wounds, while he was still mourning Safu, he was asked to be part of the restructuration committee. The hard work had distracted him from his nightmares, even more when the boy he shared his night with had gone away. He wasn’t angry at Nezumi for leaving him for half a year. He knew this was something the other man had to do in order to be in peace with himself. It hadn’t made those month any less difficult. Without Karan’s kind attentions, and the constant energy brought by Inukashi, Shionn and the dozens of dogs that seemed to have settled down in Lost Town, he probably wouldn’t have been able to handle his work and keep smiling through this long summer. But, as the heat decreased, his loved one had come back. That was kind of ironic that on the morning of his 17th birthday, the boy he hadn’t seen until spring had knocked out on his window, muttering something about it not being as large as the one in Chronos, and him being taller than his 11 years old self. But then again, his boyfriend being an actor, he always had a developed drama sense.

He giggled hat the idea of a boyfriend. It was Inukashi who first used the world, and it had made him laugh at first. They were so so more than that. But the fact stayed: they did ‘boyfriend stuff’, so it that was how the dog keeper wanted to call them, it was fine by him.

“What’s so funny?” Asked Nezumi, efficiently breaking his thoughts. He took the other’s hand within his own.

“Nothing,” he said, his smile never leaving his face, “I was just thinking about how much the city has changed since a year ago.”

His only answer was a smirk. ‘The city has changed’ was an understatement, the truth being closer to ‘destroyed and almost entirely rebuild in just a year’. But both boys let this matter go, enjoying comfortable silence again, only troubled by the distant sound of shutters opening and the birds that had flew away from the park.

It was only when arriving in front of the restructuration committee’s working place that the white-haired boy realized the former block-west inhabitant had made all the way with him instead of just going straight to the store furnishing Karan. His smile widened at the idea. He turned his head toward the building, needing to go inside (he was already incredibly late) but unwilling to let go of Nezumi’s hand. His loved one gave their hands a small shake.

“You want to stay here smiling like an idiot, or go to work ?”

Shion sighed. As usual, the other teenager lacked delicacy. But when he tried to untangle their hands, he was stopped.

“Don’t I get to have a ‘have a good day’ kiss ?”

Shion stared for a moment at the grey eyes of his lover. Yes, they were on the streets, but there was practically no one in front of the building, and if it meant pressing his lips against Nezumi’s, he didn’t care if anyone saw them. He shorted the distance between their faces, and gave the other boy a soft kiss before whispering “have a good day”.

At the smile he saw on Nezumi’s face, he wasn’t the only one whose heart was warm despite the winter temperature.

8:07

Having took all the time he needed to gather the supplies needed by Karan, the bakery was already open when Nezumi reached it. A few costumers were in the shop, buying breakfast or lunch before their day. After living in the bakery and helping Karan four months, Nezumi knew perfectly what he had to do, so he just nodded to Karan his arrival, and went to the backroom, passing by Inukashi and Shionn’s room.

The little kid was up and playing with what he assumed was one of grown up Shion’s childhood’s toys, trying to put the right forms in the right holes, under the watching gaze of a big dog. He assumed Inukashi was supposed to watch him too, but the dog keeper was half asleep nearby, droning on one of their enormous brother. Books where everywhere in the room. Apparently, while he was gone, Shion had gone scavenging his place from all the books, and learning Inukashi didn’t know how to read, had took it on his own to teach them. And the former hotel manager was apparently a good student, reading shorts stories and images books all night… and falling asleep while on babysitting duty.

After stocking the groceries in the backroom, the raven-haired boy came back in the room to squeeze the younger teen’s cheeks, while yelling an overly enjoyed “Wake up, young prince !”. The dog keeper yelped, already in fighting position, yelling a few curses that Shionn could probably had gone without hearing. The young child focused his attention to the two humans, looking at them with wide eyes.

“Mi !” babbled the child, looking at Nezumi. While he was starting to tell more and more words, some content still stayed in his young mind. Nezumi was ‘Mi’, Karan was ‘Ma’, Inukashi was ‘Mama’ and Shion ‘Dada’.

“Yup, buddy”, the actor responded, his smile hypnotizing the big eyes of Shionn’s, “Good morning.”

The grey-eyed teenager took a book on the floor, confirming it was an image book before asking, “Wanna read ?”

He would never know who, between Shionn and Inukashi had the most enthusiastic reactions. With a smirk, he sat on the floor, a dog almost immediately circling him, and started reading.

Even if the story was simple and childish, the actor soon fond himself enjoying playing the characters. Usually easily distracted, Shionn was listening, interrupting only when asked to name the forms on the pictures. Inukashi opened and closed their eyes, sometimes breathing in the even so little rhythm of the story. Three dogs were sitting beside them, and Hamlet and Tsukiyo had settled beside his laps, Cravate probably still being somewhere in the bakery. The actor read, checking regularly on Karan to see if she needed his help. After a half hour of reading, he gave Inukashi the book, asking them to take one of the character.

At first, the dog keeper had been hesitant, but the hopeful looks on Shionn’s eyes made them took the book. The reading was slow, hesitant, and full of mistakes, and the acting almost as bad.

Yet, Inukashi reading to Shionn was one of the most beautiful things Nezumi had ever seen on his entire life.

10:12

Keeping a two years old kid focused on storytelling for two hours was something close to a miracle. But after all, thought Inukashi, while preparing themselves for their next line, Nezumi had always been a miracle maker. Still, Shionn’s patience was coming to an end when Karan entered the room. The older woman had taken the habit to walk with Shionn on the morning when someone could watch the shop for her.

“We were invited in Lily and her mother’s for lunch” informed Karan, “Is that okay with you ? You can take something from the bakery”

Inukashi didn’t know if they should laugh or be grateful. Even the old man how raised them had never shown that much affection and worry. To think that someone would worry about them having something easy to eat for lunch now that they weren’t a kid anymore was weird.

They watched Karan take Shionn in her arms. The little boy could walk a few meters, but was still light enough to be carried, and liked the woman’s arms’ safety.

“Ok” Stated Nezumi, getting up in one fluid movement, “I’m gonna go watch the store, don’t you have homework to do ?”  

Inukashi stuck out their tongue, but still put papers on the small table and got to work. They had started school around the same time Nezumi had came back, and frankly, they liked it. While there were still discriminations between former block west residents and former No.6 inhabitants, kids were usually more open minded, and Inukashi having dogs had soon made them a few friends. The classes weren’t really hard, since Shion had enrolled them in it mostly to catch up with everything they missed. Still, winter break meant homework, so the dog keeper started studying their books and papers.

Math was easy and unchallenging. Inukashi knew how to count from their time in block west, and soon they found themselves watching the bakery. Nezumi was giving food and smile to blushing costumers. If Inukashi had a strong theory about how 70% of the bakery success was due to Karan’s cooking, and 30% to costumers just wanting to buy something from Nezumi.

Noticing their stare, the ‘Rat’ turned and mouthed them ‘Go back to work’. Inukashi sighed and a dog came see what was wrong. Slowly, the dog keeper started smiling. There they were, surrounded by their canine family and human friends. There they were, when a year ago, they were ready to die in the correctional facility.

13:48

The dogs had just finished eating when Karan came back, putting a sleepy Shionn in his baby bed and kissing him in the forehead. She exited the room silently, Inukashi on her toes.

When she asked the dog keeper if they wanted to watch the store, star shined on the young teen’s eyes. With school, Shion’s reading lessons before, and the duty to take care of Shionn, they rarely had the occasion to help costumers in the bakery, while enjoying it. Kids and adults liked the dogs that were always near their sibling, and Inukashi had taken the habit to tell costumers anecdotes about their family and to describe with enthusiasm the food. While this didn’t make the costumers buy any more, they were all smiling when exiting the shop.

Karan had Nezumi bring the stuff brought this morning in the kitchen, and started to get everything ready.

“Cinnamon ?” asked the actor while entering the room with supplies “what are you trying to do ?”

Karan looked at him, a smile illuminating her face, “Cinnamon Stars. I found the recipe in one of your books, it was traditional Christmas food. I wanted to give it a try. Come on, let’s do it together”

Karan liked cooking. She always did. But cooking with someone was really different. And while she knew Inukashi liked to have their time alone with the dogs, and Shion needed his space, she also knew Nezumi loved to interact with other human beings. At least while he was living with them. Speaking of which…

“How long do you want to stay here ?” Asked the mother, not removing her gaze from her work.

“Am I bothering?” Replied the boy, with the exact same intonation.

“No !” Karan corrected, removing suddenly her hands from the food to look at her son’s lover. “No you’re not bothering at all, on the contrary !” Karan could never have said how happy she was that Nezumi had came back. Shion was well better since he shared his life everyday with the raven-haired boy, and Karan loved having the singer by her side to talk, cook, or more simply just being another presence in the house she never wanted to be silent again. One winter alone without Shion was more than enough.

“You’re not bothering,” she continued, calming down and resuming working on the cinnamon stars, half knowing the teenager was just messing with her when he asked the question, but still wanting to reassure him. “Just… I’m starting to know you.”

And she knew that Nezumi needed to move in order to be at peace. And she didn’t have the right to stop him from being happy, even for her own son. Deep down, she knew that Shion understood it too.

“I…” Nezumi stopped his hands movement for a few seconds, before resuming, “I don’t know. I’m happy here. I want to stay with Shion. With you all to be honest.” The actor sighed. Karan knew she had this strange power to make him open in a way even Shion couldn’t. “I could stay here and work in the bakery or I could try and find a job as an actor, or maybe a librarian or even a teacher… But somehow something is missing, and I can’t quite find out what.” Karan let a comfortable silence in the room while the young man was searching his words. After a while, he started talking again. “That might be selfish, but I don’t feel like I should have a role in No.6 rebuilding. That’s just not my city…”

“That is through,” Karan cut him suddenly. “Well, No.6 wasn’t, but New-06 is. And if you want to help with the rebuilding, you of all people have every right to give your opinion.” However, if you don’t want to, that’s not selfish. You have every right to do whatever you want.”

It suddenly hit her that maybe, Nezumi never such large possibilities of choices in his life before. He had always focused on surviving, and eventually saving Shion. Choosing what to do with his own life was new, as it was for half the population of New-06.

“It��s okay if you want to take your time,” She said softly, putting the first set of stars into the oven, “You can stay here as long as you want. You can stay here forever if you want to. You can go if you want to. Just remember that this is home. This is home and you will always be welcome in here. Even when I’ll be an old lady, even if the city changes three, five or ten times its name, even if one day you feel unneeded, you will always, always be welcome here.”

The former block-west resident sighed, avoiding looking at her. “You really are Shion’s mother.”

Karan let a small chuckle out at the remark. Understanding the meaning behind: both of them where saying stereotypical right out of a book speech that made Nezumi happy. Message received then. She kept her cooking work while smiling until the oven informed her that the biscuits where ready. After letting them cool for a while, she handed one to the boy. Nezumi’s eyes where shining with pleasure after he took a bite. Shion was right. Once one got to know him, the taller teenager really was an open book. Interpreting his reaction as the proof of a successful recipe, she kept cooking, wishing her household would always be full of those little things that made her live a paradise.

16:34

Shionn was half eating, half playing with the cinnamon star, looking around him with big, curious eyes. It was his first try at cinnamon, and he appreciated the taste, but the star shape was also funny, reminding him of his shape game. Nezumi and Inukashi were arguing about something pointless, and the three mice where trotting on the table, eating fallen scarps. All of sudden, the little kid heard a familiar voice from the shop.

“Hi mom ! I home early today…”

Apparently, Nezumi too had heard it, because as the conversation kept going on how was grown up Shion’s day, his smile widened. Inukashi looked at him, amused.

“You go meet him, you heartbreaker, I’ll watch the lil’ brat.”  And while the older teenage walked out, they added, clowning the actor “Bouhou, I haven’t seen him for a day, I miss Shion soooo much ! Seriously, how did you handle a Shionless summer ?”

That would have probably get the dog keeper a standing finger if Shionn wasn’t in the same room. Rolling their eyes, Inukashi turned toward the child.

“You don’t become like them, okay ? No soppy love stories, you understand ?”

Shionn just kept smiling and babbling happily.

21:38

Shion read for the hundredth time the same line, lying in his bed when Nezumi entered the room, efficiently distracting him. The taller boy removed his shirt, revealing his multiple scars. The burn mark on his back, one gunshot wound on his side, two on his shoulder, and multiple others, Nezumi claiming not even knowing their origin sometimes.

“What?” asked the actor, a smirk on his face, “I’m so beautiful you can’t keep your eyes of me?”

Shion huffed, putting the papers on the bedside table. “I can’t read that.”

In one fluid movement, the ‘Rat’ was near him. “You want me to read it for you ?”    

The white-haired boy let out a small chuckle. “You want to read me the economic plan on a new building ? Na, I just want to sleep.”

Nezumi let himself fell on the bed with a low “as you wish…” and stayed there, his face three centimeters from Shion’s. Karan had suggested buying a king size bed, since they were slipping in the same anyway, but somehow, sleeping on Shion’s one-person bed seemed to be the most natural option for the two boys.

The restructuration committee member lost himself in Nezumi’s moon colored eyes. He smiled with contentment when he felt his lover’s hand smoothing the red snake shaped scar on his face, stopping sometimes to play with his hairs. His surviving trophies. The proof of his victory on the fight between his willpower and a deadly virus.

Nezumi started humming a familiar song and Shion closed his eyes.

Everything would be all right.

——-

I hope you liked it and it was what you were expecting ! Sorry if there are any mistakes ! 

Have nice hollydays !

Violette

"Other actors just play their character but Kunal lives that character and makes it alive in our hearts n memories forever. Such is the magic of Kunal. We can't save ourselves from it and frankly speaking we don't want to." - Ruchi Gupta

"Honesty, passion and connection. These words define Kunal. Are visible in each of his character." - Ruchi Gupta

I don't know where I stand with him. And I don't know what I mean to him. All I know  is that every time I think of  him, all I want to do is be with him. Do you ever just think about some one and immediately get really happy because their mere existence is a source of joy to you? 'HIM' - Just one word, yet one person comes to my mind, 'Kunal Karan Kapoor' People lets admit it. we love him.  we seriously do. Its crazy Kunal because I don't even know when you became so important to me. Its like watching a  snowstorm .  I see the flakes falling, but I didn't realise how they added up. Then suddenly my whole lawn  is covered . Every little thing of yours has added up, and you are my snowstorm, baby. When I first saw you I honestly had no idea that you would be so important  to me.. When I think , the whole world disappears  and, its just me and kunal. in my whole little world kunal love is broad ; If you love someone, you love all things , not just their looks. Love is narrow ; you love one and only one, compared to  you, no one else matters to me Have I told you yet... How much I love  you, how much you mean to me.. Have I told you yet.. About all the happiness you bring to me.. Have I told you yet.. That you mean the world to me. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me.. Just in case I have not.. I want you to know.. I love u.❤ Kunal Mania 

vinitagill: “Each scene lingers in your mind because of what he brings to it !” k_mavourneen: “The more I see him, the more am in love with him.. gosh..” kunalisthan: “Kunal sir's natural acting never fails to connect us with the situations.it seems as if we are travelling through a web of various emotions and can feel the agony,happiness and any kind of emotions the character is experiencing. Mohan Bhatnagar was a character which was given life by kunal sir.I don't want to think mohan just as a character written by any writer.the character had a soul,voice,a real existence in our minds.and it could never have been possible without this powerhouse of talent, Kunal Karan Kapoor.”

pujam_andal22: “His eyes and actions speak more than his words... Love that part in whole season of nbt😘😘 No one can speak through eyes..😘😘 his eyes r Magical!!”

ipsita_kia_224: “His amazing acting brings to life every character portrays in screen”.  

ashapurna5: “Everyone's story is coming at a similar point.. 😍 When I 1st saw the promo of this show season 1 that was really an OMG moment.. Maine already kunal ji ko pratigya me as angad dekha tha.. So it was hard to believe that is this the same guy.. He's looking so handsome here.. Actually the show's promo was catchy and different.. It was released at a time wen all the TV Shows name was based on a song.. Nd I suddenly remembered this song.. But could nt watch at that time as my 12th board exams were approaching .. But managed to watch somehow as I had that craze ki nahi mujhe toh dekhna hi hai.. Dheere dheere became an everyday part of life.. The spiderman chawanni was the 1st bond which was like dil jeet lena type.. Nd then all was like heaven.. The scene in which mohan professes his love for megha in front of whole family seriously broke my heart.. It felt like it was kunal and not mohan.. If I watch that scene 100 times.. 100 times I'll cry just by watching it.. 2nd season is way more mature and good.. It just made megha and mohan cry so much.. That sometimes makes me sad.. Every year I watch both the seasons 1 nd 2 on voot♥️♥️😍 there's really once in a while a show like this comes..to make u drive crazy for years and decades to come. Thank you @kunalkarankapoor “.

ashapurna5: “Jiski aankhein ho ruhani.. Jo bole dil ki zubaani.. Adaaon me ikhtiyar.. Jisse karein poori duniya pyar.. Chehre me base noor.. Wahi toh hai Kunal Karan Kapoor😍 “

ashapurna5: “Some people express by their words.. Some people impress by their eyes... But only few people can express and impress both by their eyes... He's one among them♥️♥️😍”

ashapurna5: “Teri hasi dekh insan Dard me bhi muskuraye.. Jaise mili ho khuda ki inaayat ban jaye.. Toot kar bikhre huye raahi ki aakhri umeed ko.. Jaise mila ho aashna uske wajood ko.. Keep smiling always like this KKK♥️ “

ashapurna5: The person with a distinctive uniqueness.. With a golden heart.. Nd a genuine smile.. With a lively aura.. That's KKK... WHEN YOU SMILE THE WHOLE WORLD STOPS AND LOOKS FOR A WHILE♥️♥️♥️  His every reply or ans directly comes frm the heart.. Nd that's what shows his originality and genuineness.. His humble and down to earth nature is what makes him stand alone with pride frm the crowd♥️♥️

sumita_0227: “One of the reason we love his ivs is PURITY.dil mein jo jubaan mein woh.he never pretended to be the perfect.he presented himself the way he is(we have got many evidences).jo bhi karte ya bolte hai dil se hota hai ek chote bachche ki tarah.GENUINENESS HUMBLESS and INNOCENCE.this world is a very difficult place for innocent people.they often get hurt.but still he never stops to be innocent and genuine.so i call him brave as well.chahe duniya jo bhi bole....he is the best and wll remain the best.💕💕 “

duskyhues: “Omg.. what a performance. I have told it many times. Would like to reiterate dat kunal Karan kapoor carried the entire season 2... on his shoulders... with his impeccable performance”.

sumita_0227: “There are somethings which are difficult to express in words.it can only be felt and that's what kunal sir make us do.he makes us connected with every emotions of him or rather the character's.it seems as if we can see his soul through his eyes.dialogues are not needed when the eyes and body language can emote so much.it's soul exposing.it's like a magical song he sings to us and we get drown into it's melody.💕💕 “

ashapurna5: “The more I see you.. The more I admire you.. The more I fall for you.. Change is constant.. But you are the one who make that change worth of acceptance.. Love you KKK in all aspects ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️😍 “

vinitagill: “His voice sounds so husky n sexy in this scene!” 

paviviji: “Expression king I bet u no one can beat his expressions” 

k_mavourneen: “He's an amazing actor.. just too good..” 

priyark31: “Har scene main jabardast performance di hai kunal ne. Tareef ke liye saare words kam lagte hai. Thank you @kunalkarankapoor itne khubsurat itne memorable scenes ki gifts dene ke liye. These serials n scenes r an all time hit. Thankkkk youuuuu so much. 😘😘😘😘💕💕💕💕 “ 

sonalipahuja65: “Extremly talented kunal” 

priyark31: “Kunal ne har scene main jaan daal di hai, har baar utana hi maja aata hai scenes dekhane main jitna pahli baar aaya tha. #kunalkarankapoor you are the best . 💕💕💕💕💕💕😍😍😍😍 “

kunal.kkk.admirer: “Kunal's Speechless acting without any word He expressed His all pain in this very short scene ❤ Every time He proved that He is truly a King of Expressions 👑❤”

priyanka.m58: “Everytime when I watching your face,or just even single actions from you I don't know what happened inside of me....It's more and more gives happiness and I started smiling like a child...love you..love you lot..Kunal. And special thanks to Ani..you're editing & your works👏 it's made me to feel good day by day...Hats off to you.💐”

priyark31: “Full of emotions, talkative n most beautiful eyes.💕💕💕💕”

shivangisainisimpleI: “guess not a single scene can describe his commitment...n dedication...all scenes r just magical” 

niveditha_niri: “His eyes speaks everything..no dialogues are needed for him❤️💕..his expressions tells everything”   

priyark31: “Brilliant,👏👏👏 what an actor he is. I think no words can describe him. He is above all appreciation.😍😍😍😍💕💕💕”

vinitagill: “He owns every role he does ...you feel it was meant for no one else but him ! “

sangeetha0606: “Having said that actor like @kunalkarankapoor is par excellence and even the story can be moulded not just because of TRP, but also should be because of a character's reach to the audience..this also challenges the writer and the director..this way the TRP will automatically go up...” 

kunalisthan: “Waiting to witness many more amazing chapters in this beautiful journey. Many more memories are yet to be made and so many new stories and adventures are yet to be unfolded by him. So many characters are waiting eagerly for him to get a life through him. Their emotions are waiting to be expressed through his eyes and expressions. And I am ready to discover him more and more through this wonderful journey.❤️😊”

priyark31: “Truely remarkable...It's a delight watching Kunal's acting, how an amazing actor can give meaning to three different characters and portrait their personalities with such perfection. @kunalkarankapoor is one and only... “

ruchi_kajalvarshney: “The best part is he completely dissolves in the character whether it's funny, intense romantic, sad Or shattered.. He lives that character❤️and makes it alive forever in our hearts ❤💞 “

arpitaoscar: “Kunal sir.. I think koi bhi aisa award abhi tk ni bana jo apke acting ko ja sake coz... Sab awards apke acting k liye kum hai.. Bestest actor... “ 

kunal.kapoor_22: “Hardwork never fails... For each and every scene he put lots and lots of effort and moreover sometimes the normal scene itself become the most beautiful scene because of his presence and effective effort... Such a wonderful brilliant actor 💞👏👏👏” 

Shweta Deshpande: “His ever talking eyes are his best assets. Love them and the gentleman who owns them.”