Three of Us (2022) Movie Script
1
Have you finished your
counseling sessions?
Yes. We've done three sessions.
Can you pass the decree, please?
Can we have three more sessions?
If you're hopeful, we can try.
Why?
We haven't lived together for more
than a year in our four-year marriage.
Could we have a six-month
cooling-off period?
It's not necessary.
How will that help,
when three years haven't?
Ma'am, I'm going abroad to study.
His name will needlessly appear
on my passport.
Only the court can decide how long
the process will take.
Do you think four years isn't a long
enough time?
Shailaja ma'am!
Shailaja ma'am!
Come.
Everyone, come.
- Mr. Bendre, please come.
- Yes.
I wish you would stay, ma'am.
It's difficult to imagine anyone else
in your place.
Thank you.
It's difficult for me as well.
I'll miss you all.
You can visit us if you miss us.
But if you miss the family court,
there are always family dramas on TV.
Please, madam.
A selfie.
Can I have some salt?
Sorry.
You can get down. I'll park.
Keluskar, what happened
to your old house in Girgaon?
It was going to be redeveloped, right?
It'll take time.
Why?
All the owners have agreed
to vacate.
But Mr. Avchat...
wants to die there.
He says he's emotionally attached.
Emotional flooring,
emotional ceiling.
Hope the weight of his memories
won't make the building collapse.
The others are waiting for a drink.
When I first heard about the diet.
It was scary.
You can have only two meals a day.
And he wants to munch on something
all the time.
And you know...
We're drinking poison. Poison!
Tea!
We've been drinking tea five times a day
for years.
Not anymore.
I don't give him anything
to eat before 11:00 a.m.
What's this? Drinking tea?
Here, cocktails!
Tea goes well with bakarwadi.
But everything goes well
with cocktails!
- I'll have one.
- That's it!
Dipankar, wait. I want you
to hear something.
O beloved, come to me
O beloved!
O beloved, come to me
O beloved!
On the banks of the Yamuna is my village
Gayatri! Is that you?
Wonderful! Since when
have you been learning?
I told you. I have weekend classes
with a guru in Mahim.
You forget everything.
O beloved, come to me
O beloved!
Sorry, I didn't mean that.
Never mind.
Enjoy your drink.
I'll get you all another round.
A little later.
I'll get some ice.
Shailu...
the way you've been handling
all this is remarkable.
I'm very proud of you.
Don't know if it's handling me
or I'm handling it.
You've lived so selflessly till now.
Now be selfish and look after yourself.
Shailaja?
Where were you?
I came by your place twice.
I've made some ragi popadam.
Shall I send you two packets?
No. Let me send four.
No.
I'll send two packets for now.
Alright?
You remember Varma...
Mrs. Deshpande, it's you?
- How are you?
- And you?
I am fine.
Good.
Listen.
Can you take a week off
from work?
A week?
Why?
I want to go to Vengurla.
Vengurla?
It's a city in the Konkan.
No, it's a town.
I don't know if it's a town
or a city.
But why?
What's there?
I studied there
from fifth to eighth grade.
I thought you went to school
in Nagpur and Pune.
Yes. Father also worked for about
four years in Vengurla.
Why do you want to go there
suddenly?
I don't understand it myself.
I've been wanting to go back
to Vengurla for some time.
Okay. We'll go.
Can we go now?
Who knows what'll happen later?
Mr. Bharat, passing with grace marks
isn't really passing.
It's merely promotion.
Dad, please! Don't start now.
I've just heard a 15-minute lecture
from your better half.
Son, if you'd listened in class,
you wouldn't need to hear
your mother's lecture. Okay?
How is she?
I don't have the guts
to ask her directly.
She's okay.
Sometimes she seems absent.
Never mind, we'll see.
At least we have each other.
That's good enough.
She was talking about going somewhere.
Let's see.
Don't let her go alone, please.
No, I'll go with her.
- Bye, Dad.
- Bye.
Come, Meena, the super-shrew.
Big boy, lazy girl, all in blue.
Come, Meena, the super-shrew.
Big boy, lazy girl, all in blue.
Statue!
Look, Anjali. Your brother
is a miser.
Look, Rakesh, your whole family
are misers.
Look, Anjali, it's your job to make
Kanchan do her homework.
Look, Rakesh, it's your job to take
Chanchal for swimming classes.
- I won't take her.
- I won't make her do her homework.
I'm not talking to you!
What is your name?
My name's Chanchal,
and she's Kanchan.
I'm like Mummy, she's like Papa.
Everyone at school calls us
"Kan-Chal."
Kan-Chal is a lovely name.
- Thank you.
- Welcome.
Thank you.
She's Chanchal. The other girl
is Kanchan.
There's hot water from 6:00 to 8:00 a.m.
If you need anything, call me.
- I'll let you know.
- Okay, I'll go.
Does this fish have many bones?
It's a seer fish.
It has only one
large bone. I'll take it out.
The seer...
The grey night has descended
One minute.
The grey night has descended
Like faint shadows taking
A deep breath
How was it?
- Eat it and tell me.
- No! I meant my singing.
The fish is delicious.
It's very good.
- Is there a school nearby?
- Turn right.
Okay.
PRADEEP KAMAT 1990
Excuse me.
How long have you been working here?
Since 8:00 a.m.
I meant for how many years?
Six to seven years, why?
I used to study here years ago.
So, I thought...
- When will the school start?
- On Monday.
- Is the office open?
- It's closed. Today's a holiday.
Do you know Pradeep Kamat?
Shailaja?
Shailu!
How are you?
- Shailu.
- Gauri?
Yes.
This is Gauri.
I've been watching you for ages.
I was wondering if it was you.
Then I thought I should just shout out.
So what if I'm wrong?
I've always been shameless!
- Namaste, brother.
- Namaste. I'm Dipankar.
Namaste.
How are you? What brings you here?
- Isn't Parshuram's house in this lane?
- Yes! This is his house.
And mine too now.
Yes.
Come. Come, brother.
Shailu!
Here.
Is this your school photo?
Yes.
- I don't have this one.
- Really?
Can't make anyone out in this photo.
The two front rows have faded away.
Is this Parshuram?
- Where?
- This one.
Yes.
Wow, you still remember.
And next to him?
It's Pradeep.
- Pradeep Kamat?
- Yes.
We stopped by our old school.
Pradeep Kamat's name came up.
Oh!
So, you and Parshuram
met at school?
Yes.
But we never spoke to one another
back then.
We did our B.A. at the
Government College.
It's very far away... 25 kilometers.
So he'd give me a ride
on his bike.
Then?
Then?
I'm still paying the price
of the petrol.
- Any children?
- Yes. A son and a daughter.
They've gone to see their grandma.
Today's a holiday.
They go to the same school
we went to.
- Please have some.
- Sure.
And you. Where do you live?
Me... we live in Mumbai.
What brings you to Konkan
after so many years? Any work?
No, we're on holiday.
How nice!
Where is Pradeep Kamat these days?
Since when have you used
his full name?
He's right here. In Kudal.
No one can leave Konkan.
I did.
You came back, right?
SANKALP DEPOSIT SCHEME
Token number 59.
- One minute.
- Yes?
- Pradeep Kamat.
- The bank manager?
Tell him Shailaja Patankar
would like to see him.
He's... Alright, I'll tell him.
Sir, someone is here to see you.
WARM WELCOME
BRANCH MANAGER
How long have you worked there?
I've been working at the bank
for 12 years.
And you...
What do you do?
I'm a social security agent.
I sell life insurance,
health schemes, and family benefits.
Nice.
I'm not crazy about the job.
Why's that?
I scare people and lie.
I tell them something
bad might happen.
So they take out an insurance policy.
But it's true, sir.
Anything can happen.
Shailaja told me you are
childhood friends.
When you're a kid,
everyone is a friend.
- Have some.
- Did you recognize her immediately?
- Yes, I mean...
- Of course, he didn't!
I gave the clerk my name.
I didn't want to startle him.
Why don't you both talk?
I have a few calls to make.
I will... cook some lies.
Sir has a lovely smile.
Sir?
Brother? What shall I call him?
Call him Dipankar.
And you?
Do you work? Or is there
enough work at home?
I work in an office.
Family court, divorce division.
Oh, so you decide who stays together
and who doesn't?
People decide for themselves.
Sometimes they decide four to five years
before they tell their partners.
So, you give them the chance
to talk?
And I take care of the paperwork.
- Would you like more tea?
- Why so formal with me?
You never addressed me
so formally at school.
School!
It feels like another lifetime.
Shall we go back there?
Come.
Come.
- Was this the seventh-grade classroom?
- The eighth.
Remember that boy Shameem?
He once fell asleep at the back.
He got locked into the classroom.
- That was the seventh grade.
- Was he locked in all night?
They found him before nightfall.
This room is so tightly packed!
How did we manage then?
That's true.
Childhood spaces look so much smaller
when you grow up.
You have a big heart when you're a kid.
That's why everything seems big.
This was the eighth class.
Katha, you should eat that too.
It's healthy.
Yesterday you said milk
was healthy.
They both are. Go on, eat.
Don't talk when you're eating.
Let me eat in peace.
I'm just asking. It's not necessary,
but who wants ice cream after dinner?
Riddhi?
- There's choco chip.
- No.
What is it?
She must've had a fight
with Akshay.
- Who's Akshay?
- A friend.
He dropped by one day.
So, how is it?
A YouTube recipe.
Okay.
It's good.
One "like" from me.
What about me?
I subscribed to you already.
I once spoke to you about a friend.
Shailaja Patankar. Remember?
How could I forget!
I remember. Your childhood "friend".
She came to the bank today.
Meaning?
Did you happen to bump into her?
No.
She came to see me.
With her husband.
- Out of the blue?
- Yes.
I was also surprised.
Twenty-eight years later.
They're here for a few days.
Shailaja wants me to go with them
to our old haunts.
What do you feel about it?
I'm not sure.
You should go.
But tell me all about it.
You'll have to bribe me too.
When Aunt Parvati died,
her family moved to Mumbai.
Did you meet them there?
It's a very big city.
Come.
- Is your mother home?
- No, my grandma is.
Call her.
- Namaste, Aunt.
- Namaste.
You have a beautiful house.
May we look around?
Yes, why not? Come in.
Come.
- Can you show her your house?
- Come, I'll show you.
This is my bedroom. I sleep here.
Sometimes we play carom here.
This is the TV room.
We watch cricket here and play games.
Here you go.
When I was about his age,
I used to live in this house.
Stay as long as you feel like.
Treat it as your own home.
There... used to be a room here.
Yes, there was a large room here.
We built a wall and made it
into two small rooms.
What about the guava tree?
It was over there.
The tree bore no fruit, so we cut it down
and had the soil cemented over.
Come, there's more to see.
Careful. There are lots of stones here.
It's full of trees.
Auntie, come on.
Come! What's wrong?
What is it?
Auntie is tired now.
We'll visit another time. Okay?
Dipankar sir, let's go.
Roopali has invited us for lunch.
Roopali? Is she another childhood friend?
Yes, an old friend
and our English teacher's daughter.
Do you know why a photograph
is called a "photograph"?
Photo means light,
graph means drawing.
So, photograph means
the drawing of light.
Wow, Shailu!
Dipankar, your wife is not
as innocent as she looks.
She was a real villain.
She was Mogambo and he was her Daga,
her partner in crime.
Roopali's father loved two things in life.
Camera and sweets.
He was completely obsessed
with them.
When he was 50, one of his eyes
was lost to the camera...
and the other to diabetes.
I would taunt him and say,
"Bathe in syrup every morning
and marry your camera."
Now he's gone, but at least
we have the photographs he took.
He isn't in many of them...
though his presence
is in every photograph.
And this fool.
She doesn't want to marry.
She says, "What will happen to you?"
What will happen!
I don't need a husband or children
to look after me.
I am a strong woman.
Mom!
Don't forget I'm your daughter.
I've told you many times.
I don't need anyone either.
Look at this one.
Isn't that...
Roopali, is the old sea witch still alive?
She used to live in a hut
on the seashore.
- Did she really exist?
- So?
Or did someone invent her
just to scare us?
Of course, she was real.
She would go and see her so often.
Right, Shailu?
You'd cover your face and go
and talk to her for hours. Remember?
She existed.
Twenty-five years have passed.
She's probably dead now.
She must've died.
If she hasn't,
she must be ancient.
A spectacle of noise to endure tomorrow.
A stone of hope to push uphill with sighs.
Tomorrow will only come
when today is played out.
Now that we are already
on the path, so listen.
We shall go to that city as long as
this life will take us.
Tomorrow will only come
when today is played out.
Gather a thousand pearls if you wish to.
On that last day, empty-handed you will go
Tomorrow will only come
when today is played out.
ORIGIN
I thought you were busy
with office work.
No, I felt like writing after ages.
What does "Udgam" mean?
It means the origin.
The beginning. The first seed.
Throw a stone into a pond,
"the origin" is the point where
a ripple effect starts.
Just like the Gangotri is the origin
of the Ganges.
Or is your poem the origin
of meeting Shailaja again?
I don't know, but...
we've met after so many years.
Then seeing Kurankar ma'am, Roopali.
I went far back in time.
"Tomorrow will only come when
today is played out."
Very beautiful.
Something has brought Shailaja
back to her beginning.
I'm trying to understand
what brought her back.
Wow! My great poet!
Our married life started 17 years ago,
and you haven't written
a single word about me.
But you wrote a whole poem after seeing
your childhood sweetheart.
Wow!
What are you doing?
I'm transferring the photos
to the laptop.
The phone's memory is full.
No space on the laptop either.
Save it on the Cloud.
- Cloud? Do you mean Google?
- Yes...
What if it vanishes from there?
It won't.
What if I forget the password?
It could vanish then.
Shailaja.
Why didn't you ever tell me
about your past?
Why?
About Konkan.
Pradeep?
Mogambo?
I didn't hold it back from you
on purpose. It just happened.
I'm here to look for the Shailaja
that you're seeing for the first time.
She's right here but she eludes me.
If you find her first,
hold onto her carefully.
There are two types of investments.
One is short-term, the other long.
Short-term is heeding the mind.
Long-term is heeding the heart.
Savings accounts will not give you
such returns.
I'll email everything to you.
Read it all carefully.
You'll see for yourself
and then...
Sure?
I'll join you.
Yes. Sorry, sorry. Yes?
Lift your hand up and lower it again.
- And the other hand...
- Correct.
- How are you?
- I'm fine.
You're just the same.
Manjiri!
This is Shailaja.
She used to learn dancing here.
Why don't you greet Shailaja?
This is a part of the teacher-student
tradition.
Come on, get ready.
Dance the Hamir-Kalyani Tillana
for Shailaja.
No, no, never mind.
Let me see how much you remember.
Come on.
Atharva, come here.
Isha.
Stand here.
Come on.
Is your son named "Bharat"
after Bharat Natyam?
Or does "Bharat" mean India?
It was meant to be after Bharat Natyam.
But?
Instead of any performing arts,
he now belongs to an institution.
IIT?
Dipankar was very keen that Bharat
would study engineering at the IIT.
I still don't know why
that's such a big deal.
I wanted to go to IIT too.
But you were the school topper, right?
Then?
Then...
Then one day my father came home
dead drunk.
He fought with my mother and hit her.
He hit me.
Maybe he behaved like that
in front of me once?
Next...
The next morning, he left
the house and never came back.
We never understood why.
He never spoke of his troubles.
No one at his office knew anything.
We looked for him everywhere.
If we had found him,
I would've scolded him.
I was so angry.
Are you still angry?
No.
Now...
I pity him.
How many times have we all
thought of just running away?
Leaving everything behind.
Not knowing what you're seeking.
We don't run.
But he did.
Do you know?
Every day, and for many years,
I tried to give up that hope.
Sometimes I thought I had let go of it.
I wanted to see my father again.
Just once, to ask him why he had left.
I had this sneaky thought
that if I ever met him,
I'd bring him home.
Then I'd feel ashamed of myself.
And I would erase that
sneaky thought.
Okay, I won't bring him home.
But at least I'll see him.
This temple is huge.
You were saying childhood spaces
look smaller.
It's always crowded on Mondays.
Don't even ask about Shivratri.
People come from far away.
The sound of people chanting
"Har Har Mahadev" echoes everywhere.
- Here.
- Sure.
It's all for you. Take it.
And for Shailaja?
To her, there's nothing sacred
about an offering.
She's a complete atheist!
At last, I know something about her
that you don't.
There's so much I don't know.
I don't know what happened
to her parents. I know nothing.
Her father died six months
after we got married.
Her mother passed away two months later.
Cancer.
Then our son Bharat was born.
Shailaja had to look after him.
- She had a sister who in childhood...
- I know.
Did you two come here as kids?
Maybe. I don't really remember.
Pradeep sir, thank you
for all your time.
Shailaja really needed this.
You can't find leaves with so many colors
in Mumbai.
Everything in a big city
looks the same.
Did Pradeep tell you the story
about his mother? Or did you ask?
He said something strange.
What?
He said something happened to him
when he was young.
Since then, he could never trust men.
And so most of his friendships
were with girls.
And now with his wife.
But he said I was a man
to be trusted.
How come?
Because Shailaja trusts me.
Pradeep is crazy.
The moon said to the sea,
"Useless is your churning.
You never come to see me,
a failing in your yearning."
The sea said, "O my dear moon,
my heart swells to see you soon.
But what can I do? Every thirty days
you change your face in thirty ways."
Wonderful!
Go on.
That's all.
Shai... I wrote it ages ago. Alright?
If I read this poem anywhere,
I'd know it's yours.
Your innocence comes through.
Right?
You took the words out of my mouth!
He thinks this is an ordinary poem
but it's my favorite.
How many poems have you written?
- Well...
- I'll show you. One minute.
Here. See.
Tea or coffee?
- Coffee.
- Tea.
Tea is fine.
But you wanted coffee.
- He'll have to make both.
- He can do it.
He just wants to impress you both.
Otherwise, he never enters
the kitchen.
Let him do something.
This must seem very odd to you, right?
When I showed up to meet Pradeep
after years.
Shall I be honest?
It felt odd, but a very nice kind
of odd.
I've been thinking of coloring
my hair for the past week.
Every day I had a new excuse not to.
The day I decide to,
I won't find any excuse.
When I see you, I realize how much
you must've wanted to come here.
And you came,
leaving all your excuses back
in Mumbai.
That's what I find so endearing.
- Then...
- Sarika!
Yes.
Shall we?
He's publishing a novel too.
When will it be published?
It's with the editor.
He'll chop it up and send it back.
The rain clouds in the eyes
do not lessen do not lessen
The rain clouds in the eyes
do not lessen do not lessen
The rainy season
Never leaves the land of Braj
The rain keeps falling
The rain clouds in the eyes
do not lessen do not lessen
The pain of separation laden
the falling raindrops
The feeling is overwhelming
It makes my hands rise
And my heart swells with yearning
The rain clouds in the eyes do not lessen
The rain clouds in the eyes do not lessen
All seasons have turned into one in Braj
All seasons have turned
Into one in Braj
Turning all upside down
With you gone
Surdas has abandoned all shame
The rain clouds in the eyes
do not lessen do not lessen
What is it?
The number 19 in Hindi looks like
two people upset with one another.
Have you ever been this happy with me?
What do you mean?
It means what it means.
Does it upset you that I'm happy?
No. You can be happy, and you are.
Maybe you weren't happy with me.
- It must be my fault.
- What are you saying?
Coming back to my childhood home
was bound to make me happy.
That doesn't mean I was never
happy with you.
Why can't I remember those times?
Because we're used to each other.
No one remembers their daily life.
We forget as time passes.
We change.
What has changed?
I'm exactly the same.
No, you're not, Dipankar.
You're not the same, neither am I.
Nor is our relationship.
There's nothing surprising about that.
It happens.
You asked when we were last
happy together.
I ask you...
when were we last sad together, Dipankar?
Maybe very often.
Now don't tell me you've forgotten
because you have dementia.
Recognize me?
I used to come here
when I was a child.
You still come here.
You liar!
Why were you standing outside
for so long?
What is this bag you're carrying?
What did you do with the ring
I gave you?
Three people rose from the sea.
They said, "Will you come?"
I said, "No.
I will go with my master."
They started living in this hut.
They threw me out.
The sun, moon, sea, clouds...
they all fought.
"I am your master.
No, I am your master."
One day the sea got mad at me.
I glared back at it.
It did not back off,
so I threw your ring at it.
It ebbed away.
It receded.
What did you bring in your bag?
Tell me.
You must've brought something.
That day my sister Venu and I were
skipping near the well.
She said, "Let's play tug-of-war."
She knew she'd win.
At first, she just laughed at me.
"You're all bones."
I called her an "aubergine"
and she laughed even louder.
Then she clenched her teeth...
and wrapped the rope
around her hand.
She pulled the rope hard.
The rope slipped out of my hands.
I ran towards her.
I saw her feet in the well.
Then her head emerged,
and she cried, "Shailu!"
I ran to my father and said, "Venu."
Then I burst out crying.
Everyone said I wouldn't find you again.
- That you must've...
- Died by now.
You didn't forget me.
That's why I live.
Come back again.
NIGOJKAR
HOME STAY
Didn't Sarika and Riddhi come?
No, sir.
My wife isn't keen on fairs.
Riddhi prefers to spend time
with her friends.
She says, "Only kids go out
with their parents."
What time is your train tomorrow?
Two in the afternoon.
Do you ever visit Mumbai?
Not really.
The bank sent me there
for training a few years ago.
Where did I stay?
Parel? Parle?
They both exist!
If you smell biscuits, it's Parle.
If you smell the sea, it's Parel.
Right.
We live in Dadar.
If you visit again,
do come home.
Yes.
Can I ask you something, sir?
Is Shailaja okay?
A few months ago, we were told
she has a neurological condition.
Dementia.
The doctors said her memory
will slowly deteriorate.
She's already started to forget things.
Names, faces, her childhood.
Sometimes she struggles
to even recognize herself.
That's why she wanted to...
- "Origin."
- What?
To return to her beginning.
Now which ride?
Shall we?
No chance! I can't manage that!
Katha?
I can't manage it either.
Go ahead! I'm here.
- Katha, shall we have a Popsicle?
- Yes!
Are you scared?
When it starts I am.
It's been years since I sat
on a Ferris wheel.
- Two Popsicles.
- Kaala Khatta.
Do you get scared?
- Yes! Do you?
- No.
You must get scared sometimes.
Sometimes.
What scares you?
When I head off to school,
remember it's drawing day
and I've forgotten my color pencils.
So, what do you do?
I'll tell the teacher that I forgot.
Is she okay with that?
Yes. She forgets things too.
Don't add red syrup.
If the wheel ever stopped mid-air,
I didn't want it to start again.
Even today I don't want it to.
When I was in Mumbai last week,
I was in a great hurry to get here.
Now when I'm here, I miss Mumbai.
Today,
after ages,
in this moment,
I don't feel the need to hurry.
This is where I wanted to be.
And I'm here.
Why didn't you come back sooner, Shailaja?
I don't know.
After I left, I didn't find the time
to come back.
Our whole life is spent
in a dilemma.
Do we choose a busy
or a peaceful life?
Only recently life said to me,
"Slow down."
So I did.
The last time we came to this fair,
how was it?
Do you remember?
I don't remember it at all.
I don't even remember what
I looked like.
Tell me.
We were all there.
Gauri, Parshuram, Mohit, Ashwini.
You, me, Venu.
You were wearing a light blue frock.
There was your friend too.
I didn't like her at all.
- Jyoti?
- Deepika!
Deepika.
Deepika Bhalekar.
I heard her tell you,
"Pradeep has brought you flowers."
You got embarrassed and said, "Why
just for me? They're for everyone."
You got upset and stopped talking to me.
You didn't want to ride the Ferris wheel
to avoid being alone with me.
That's all I remember.
We never spoke after that.
Then the incident with Venu happened
and we left Vengurla.
Half asleep.
Pradeep.
Sorry.
I should've apologized to you
28 years ago.
But I really didn't know that was
the last day we'd meet.
And I didn't know if I'd ever
see you again.
So thank you for coming back, Shailaja.
And for remembering me.
I may not be able to remember
for long.
Don't worry. I'll remember you.
Look at this.
If you walk, it will follow you.
Bribe?
- No. Shailaja sent this for you.
- Really?
It's lovely.
The bribe.
I'm dying of stress, and you're
the one getting a head massage!
A quirk of fate, my son.
It's all karma.
Come and see us, I'll give
you a head massage.
I wish.
So how's it going?
- All good!
- It's so different from Mumbai.
When are you back home?
Tomorrow.
When are you coming?
I must submit my papers next week, Ma.
I'll be back by Diwali.
Bharat.
Take care of yourself.
We're fine. Bye.
- Bye, Mom.
- Bye, my child.
What if I forget Bharat?
Have you finished your
counseling sessions?
Yes. We've done three sessions.
Can you pass the decree, please?
Can we have three more sessions?
If you're hopeful, we can try.
Why?
We haven't lived together for more
than a year in our four-year marriage.
Could we have a six-month
cooling-off period?
It's not necessary.
How will that help,
when three years haven't?
Ma'am, I'm going abroad to study.
His name will needlessly appear
on my passport.
Only the court can decide how long
the process will take.
Do you think four years isn't a long
enough time?
Shailaja ma'am!
Shailaja ma'am!
Come.
Everyone, come.
- Mr. Bendre, please come.
- Yes.
I wish you would stay, ma'am.
It's difficult to imagine anyone else
in your place.
Thank you.
It's difficult for me as well.
I'll miss you all.
You can visit us if you miss us.
But if you miss the family court,
there are always family dramas on TV.
Please, madam.
A selfie.
Can I have some salt?
Sorry.
You can get down. I'll park.
Keluskar, what happened
to your old house in Girgaon?
It was going to be redeveloped, right?
It'll take time.
Why?
All the owners have agreed
to vacate.
But Mr. Avchat...
wants to die there.
He says he's emotionally attached.
Emotional flooring,
emotional ceiling.
Hope the weight of his memories
won't make the building collapse.
The others are waiting for a drink.
When I first heard about the diet.
It was scary.
You can have only two meals a day.
And he wants to munch on something
all the time.
And you know...
We're drinking poison. Poison!
Tea!
We've been drinking tea five times a day
for years.
Not anymore.
I don't give him anything
to eat before 11:00 a.m.
What's this? Drinking tea?
Here, cocktails!
Tea goes well with bakarwadi.
But everything goes well
with cocktails!
- I'll have one.
- That's it!
Dipankar, wait. I want you
to hear something.
O beloved, come to me
O beloved!
O beloved, come to me
O beloved!
On the banks of the Yamuna is my village
Gayatri! Is that you?
Wonderful! Since when
have you been learning?
I told you. I have weekend classes
with a guru in Mahim.
You forget everything.
O beloved, come to me
O beloved!
Sorry, I didn't mean that.
Never mind.
Enjoy your drink.
I'll get you all another round.
A little later.
I'll get some ice.
Shailu...
the way you've been handling
all this is remarkable.
I'm very proud of you.
Don't know if it's handling me
or I'm handling it.
You've lived so selflessly till now.
Now be selfish and look after yourself.
Shailaja?
Where were you?
I came by your place twice.
I've made some ragi popadam.
Shall I send you two packets?
No. Let me send four.
No.
I'll send two packets for now.
Alright?
You remember Varma...
Mrs. Deshpande, it's you?
- How are you?
- And you?
I am fine.
Good.
Listen.
Can you take a week off
from work?
A week?
Why?
I want to go to Vengurla.
Vengurla?
It's a city in the Konkan.
No, it's a town.
I don't know if it's a town
or a city.
But why?
What's there?
I studied there
from fifth to eighth grade.
I thought you went to school
in Nagpur and Pune.
Yes. Father also worked for about
four years in Vengurla.
Why do you want to go there
suddenly?
I don't understand it myself.
I've been wanting to go back
to Vengurla for some time.
Okay. We'll go.
Can we go now?
Who knows what'll happen later?
Mr. Bharat, passing with grace marks
isn't really passing.
It's merely promotion.
Dad, please! Don't start now.
I've just heard a 15-minute lecture
from your better half.
Son, if you'd listened in class,
you wouldn't need to hear
your mother's lecture. Okay?
How is she?
I don't have the guts
to ask her directly.
She's okay.
Sometimes she seems absent.
Never mind, we'll see.
At least we have each other.
That's good enough.
She was talking about going somewhere.
Let's see.
Don't let her go alone, please.
No, I'll go with her.
- Bye, Dad.
- Bye.
Come, Meena, the super-shrew.
Big boy, lazy girl, all in blue.
Come, Meena, the super-shrew.
Big boy, lazy girl, all in blue.
Statue!
Look, Anjali. Your brother
is a miser.
Look, Rakesh, your whole family
are misers.
Look, Anjali, it's your job to make
Kanchan do her homework.
Look, Rakesh, it's your job to take
Chanchal for swimming classes.
- I won't take her.
- I won't make her do her homework.
I'm not talking to you!
What is your name?
My name's Chanchal,
and she's Kanchan.
I'm like Mummy, she's like Papa.
Everyone at school calls us
"Kan-Chal."
Kan-Chal is a lovely name.
- Thank you.
- Welcome.
Thank you.
She's Chanchal. The other girl
is Kanchan.
There's hot water from 6:00 to 8:00 a.m.
If you need anything, call me.
- I'll let you know.
- Okay, I'll go.
Does this fish have many bones?
It's a seer fish.
It has only one
large bone. I'll take it out.
The seer...
The grey night has descended
One minute.
The grey night has descended
Like faint shadows taking
A deep breath
How was it?
- Eat it and tell me.
- No! I meant my singing.
The fish is delicious.
It's very good.
- Is there a school nearby?
- Turn right.
Okay.
PRADEEP KAMAT 1990
Excuse me.
How long have you been working here?
Since 8:00 a.m.
I meant for how many years?
Six to seven years, why?
I used to study here years ago.
So, I thought...
- When will the school start?
- On Monday.
- Is the office open?
- It's closed. Today's a holiday.
Do you know Pradeep Kamat?
Shailaja?
Shailu!
How are you?
- Shailu.
- Gauri?
Yes.
This is Gauri.
I've been watching you for ages.
I was wondering if it was you.
Then I thought I should just shout out.
So what if I'm wrong?
I've always been shameless!
- Namaste, brother.
- Namaste. I'm Dipankar.
Namaste.
How are you? What brings you here?
- Isn't Parshuram's house in this lane?
- Yes! This is his house.
And mine too now.
Yes.
Come. Come, brother.
Shailu!
Here.
Is this your school photo?
Yes.
- I don't have this one.
- Really?
Can't make anyone out in this photo.
The two front rows have faded away.
Is this Parshuram?
- Where?
- This one.
Yes.
Wow, you still remember.
And next to him?
It's Pradeep.
- Pradeep Kamat?
- Yes.
We stopped by our old school.
Pradeep Kamat's name came up.
Oh!
So, you and Parshuram
met at school?
Yes.
But we never spoke to one another
back then.
We did our B.A. at the
Government College.
It's very far away... 25 kilometers.
So he'd give me a ride
on his bike.
Then?
Then?
I'm still paying the price
of the petrol.
- Any children?
- Yes. A son and a daughter.
They've gone to see their grandma.
Today's a holiday.
They go to the same school
we went to.
- Please have some.
- Sure.
And you. Where do you live?
Me... we live in Mumbai.
What brings you to Konkan
after so many years? Any work?
No, we're on holiday.
How nice!
Where is Pradeep Kamat these days?
Since when have you used
his full name?
He's right here. In Kudal.
No one can leave Konkan.
I did.
You came back, right?
SANKALP DEPOSIT SCHEME
Token number 59.
- One minute.
- Yes?
- Pradeep Kamat.
- The bank manager?
Tell him Shailaja Patankar
would like to see him.
He's... Alright, I'll tell him.
Sir, someone is here to see you.
WARM WELCOME
BRANCH MANAGER
How long have you worked there?
I've been working at the bank
for 12 years.
And you...
What do you do?
I'm a social security agent.
I sell life insurance,
health schemes, and family benefits.
Nice.
I'm not crazy about the job.
Why's that?
I scare people and lie.
I tell them something
bad might happen.
So they take out an insurance policy.
But it's true, sir.
Anything can happen.
Shailaja told me you are
childhood friends.
When you're a kid,
everyone is a friend.
- Have some.
- Did you recognize her immediately?
- Yes, I mean...
- Of course, he didn't!
I gave the clerk my name.
I didn't want to startle him.
Why don't you both talk?
I have a few calls to make.
I will... cook some lies.
Sir has a lovely smile.
Sir?
Brother? What shall I call him?
Call him Dipankar.
And you?
Do you work? Or is there
enough work at home?
I work in an office.
Family court, divorce division.
Oh, so you decide who stays together
and who doesn't?
People decide for themselves.
Sometimes they decide four to five years
before they tell their partners.
So, you give them the chance
to talk?
And I take care of the paperwork.
- Would you like more tea?
- Why so formal with me?
You never addressed me
so formally at school.
School!
It feels like another lifetime.
Shall we go back there?
Come.
Come.
- Was this the seventh-grade classroom?
- The eighth.
Remember that boy Shameem?
He once fell asleep at the back.
He got locked into the classroom.
- That was the seventh grade.
- Was he locked in all night?
They found him before nightfall.
This room is so tightly packed!
How did we manage then?
That's true.
Childhood spaces look so much smaller
when you grow up.
You have a big heart when you're a kid.
That's why everything seems big.
This was the eighth class.
Katha, you should eat that too.
It's healthy.
Yesterday you said milk
was healthy.
They both are. Go on, eat.
Don't talk when you're eating.
Let me eat in peace.
I'm just asking. It's not necessary,
but who wants ice cream after dinner?
Riddhi?
- There's choco chip.
- No.
What is it?
She must've had a fight
with Akshay.
- Who's Akshay?
- A friend.
He dropped by one day.
So, how is it?
A YouTube recipe.
Okay.
It's good.
One "like" from me.
What about me?
I subscribed to you already.
I once spoke to you about a friend.
Shailaja Patankar. Remember?
How could I forget!
I remember. Your childhood "friend".
She came to the bank today.
Meaning?
Did you happen to bump into her?
No.
She came to see me.
With her husband.
- Out of the blue?
- Yes.
I was also surprised.
Twenty-eight years later.
They're here for a few days.
Shailaja wants me to go with them
to our old haunts.
What do you feel about it?
I'm not sure.
You should go.
But tell me all about it.
You'll have to bribe me too.
When Aunt Parvati died,
her family moved to Mumbai.
Did you meet them there?
It's a very big city.
Come.
- Is your mother home?
- No, my grandma is.
Call her.
- Namaste, Aunt.
- Namaste.
You have a beautiful house.
May we look around?
Yes, why not? Come in.
Come.
- Can you show her your house?
- Come, I'll show you.
This is my bedroom. I sleep here.
Sometimes we play carom here.
This is the TV room.
We watch cricket here and play games.
Here you go.
When I was about his age,
I used to live in this house.
Stay as long as you feel like.
Treat it as your own home.
There... used to be a room here.
Yes, there was a large room here.
We built a wall and made it
into two small rooms.
What about the guava tree?
It was over there.
The tree bore no fruit, so we cut it down
and had the soil cemented over.
Come, there's more to see.
Careful. There are lots of stones here.
It's full of trees.
Auntie, come on.
Come! What's wrong?
What is it?
Auntie is tired now.
We'll visit another time. Okay?
Dipankar sir, let's go.
Roopali has invited us for lunch.
Roopali? Is she another childhood friend?
Yes, an old friend
and our English teacher's daughter.
Do you know why a photograph
is called a "photograph"?
Photo means light,
graph means drawing.
So, photograph means
the drawing of light.
Wow, Shailu!
Dipankar, your wife is not
as innocent as she looks.
She was a real villain.
She was Mogambo and he was her Daga,
her partner in crime.
Roopali's father loved two things in life.
Camera and sweets.
He was completely obsessed
with them.
When he was 50, one of his eyes
was lost to the camera...
and the other to diabetes.
I would taunt him and say,
"Bathe in syrup every morning
and marry your camera."
Now he's gone, but at least
we have the photographs he took.
He isn't in many of them...
though his presence
is in every photograph.
And this fool.
She doesn't want to marry.
She says, "What will happen to you?"
What will happen!
I don't need a husband or children
to look after me.
I am a strong woman.
Mom!
Don't forget I'm your daughter.
I've told you many times.
I don't need anyone either.
Look at this one.
Isn't that...
Roopali, is the old sea witch still alive?
She used to live in a hut
on the seashore.
- Did she really exist?
- So?
Or did someone invent her
just to scare us?
Of course, she was real.
She would go and see her so often.
Right, Shailu?
You'd cover your face and go
and talk to her for hours. Remember?
She existed.
Twenty-five years have passed.
She's probably dead now.
She must've died.
If she hasn't,
she must be ancient.
A spectacle of noise to endure tomorrow.
A stone of hope to push uphill with sighs.
Tomorrow will only come
when today is played out.
Now that we are already
on the path, so listen.
We shall go to that city as long as
this life will take us.
Tomorrow will only come
when today is played out.
Gather a thousand pearls if you wish to.
On that last day, empty-handed you will go
Tomorrow will only come
when today is played out.
ORIGIN
I thought you were busy
with office work.
No, I felt like writing after ages.
What does "Udgam" mean?
It means the origin.
The beginning. The first seed.
Throw a stone into a pond,
"the origin" is the point where
a ripple effect starts.
Just like the Gangotri is the origin
of the Ganges.
Or is your poem the origin
of meeting Shailaja again?
I don't know, but...
we've met after so many years.
Then seeing Kurankar ma'am, Roopali.
I went far back in time.
"Tomorrow will only come when
today is played out."
Very beautiful.
Something has brought Shailaja
back to her beginning.
I'm trying to understand
what brought her back.
Wow! My great poet!
Our married life started 17 years ago,
and you haven't written
a single word about me.
But you wrote a whole poem after seeing
your childhood sweetheart.
Wow!
What are you doing?
I'm transferring the photos
to the laptop.
The phone's memory is full.
No space on the laptop either.
Save it on the Cloud.
- Cloud? Do you mean Google?
- Yes...
What if it vanishes from there?
It won't.
What if I forget the password?
It could vanish then.
Shailaja.
Why didn't you ever tell me
about your past?
Why?
About Konkan.
Pradeep?
Mogambo?
I didn't hold it back from you
on purpose. It just happened.
I'm here to look for the Shailaja
that you're seeing for the first time.
She's right here but she eludes me.
If you find her first,
hold onto her carefully.
There are two types of investments.
One is short-term, the other long.
Short-term is heeding the mind.
Long-term is heeding the heart.
Savings accounts will not give you
such returns.
I'll email everything to you.
Read it all carefully.
You'll see for yourself
and then...
Sure?
I'll join you.
Yes. Sorry, sorry. Yes?
Lift your hand up and lower it again.
- And the other hand...
- Correct.
- How are you?
- I'm fine.
You're just the same.
Manjiri!
This is Shailaja.
She used to learn dancing here.
Why don't you greet Shailaja?
This is a part of the teacher-student
tradition.
Come on, get ready.
Dance the Hamir-Kalyani Tillana
for Shailaja.
No, no, never mind.
Let me see how much you remember.
Come on.
Atharva, come here.
Isha.
Stand here.
Come on.
Is your son named "Bharat"
after Bharat Natyam?
Or does "Bharat" mean India?
It was meant to be after Bharat Natyam.
But?
Instead of any performing arts,
he now belongs to an institution.
IIT?
Dipankar was very keen that Bharat
would study engineering at the IIT.
I still don't know why
that's such a big deal.
I wanted to go to IIT too.
But you were the school topper, right?
Then?
Then...
Then one day my father came home
dead drunk.
He fought with my mother and hit her.
He hit me.
Maybe he behaved like that
in front of me once?
Next...
The next morning, he left
the house and never came back.
We never understood why.
He never spoke of his troubles.
No one at his office knew anything.
We looked for him everywhere.
If we had found him,
I would've scolded him.
I was so angry.
Are you still angry?
No.
Now...
I pity him.
How many times have we all
thought of just running away?
Leaving everything behind.
Not knowing what you're seeking.
We don't run.
But he did.
Do you know?
Every day, and for many years,
I tried to give up that hope.
Sometimes I thought I had let go of it.
I wanted to see my father again.
Just once, to ask him why he had left.
I had this sneaky thought
that if I ever met him,
I'd bring him home.
Then I'd feel ashamed of myself.
And I would erase that
sneaky thought.
Okay, I won't bring him home.
But at least I'll see him.
This temple is huge.
You were saying childhood spaces
look smaller.
It's always crowded on Mondays.
Don't even ask about Shivratri.
People come from far away.
The sound of people chanting
"Har Har Mahadev" echoes everywhere.
- Here.
- Sure.
It's all for you. Take it.
And for Shailaja?
To her, there's nothing sacred
about an offering.
She's a complete atheist!
At last, I know something about her
that you don't.
There's so much I don't know.
I don't know what happened
to her parents. I know nothing.
Her father died six months
after we got married.
Her mother passed away two months later.
Cancer.
Then our son Bharat was born.
Shailaja had to look after him.
- She had a sister who in childhood...
- I know.
Did you two come here as kids?
Maybe. I don't really remember.
Pradeep sir, thank you
for all your time.
Shailaja really needed this.
You can't find leaves with so many colors
in Mumbai.
Everything in a big city
looks the same.
Did Pradeep tell you the story
about his mother? Or did you ask?
He said something strange.
What?
He said something happened to him
when he was young.
Since then, he could never trust men.
And so most of his friendships
were with girls.
And now with his wife.
But he said I was a man
to be trusted.
How come?
Because Shailaja trusts me.
Pradeep is crazy.
The moon said to the sea,
"Useless is your churning.
You never come to see me,
a failing in your yearning."
The sea said, "O my dear moon,
my heart swells to see you soon.
But what can I do? Every thirty days
you change your face in thirty ways."
Wonderful!
Go on.
That's all.
Shai... I wrote it ages ago. Alright?
If I read this poem anywhere,
I'd know it's yours.
Your innocence comes through.
Right?
You took the words out of my mouth!
He thinks this is an ordinary poem
but it's my favorite.
How many poems have you written?
- Well...
- I'll show you. One minute.
Here. See.
Tea or coffee?
- Coffee.
- Tea.
Tea is fine.
But you wanted coffee.
- He'll have to make both.
- He can do it.
He just wants to impress you both.
Otherwise, he never enters
the kitchen.
Let him do something.
This must seem very odd to you, right?
When I showed up to meet Pradeep
after years.
Shall I be honest?
It felt odd, but a very nice kind
of odd.
I've been thinking of coloring
my hair for the past week.
Every day I had a new excuse not to.
The day I decide to,
I won't find any excuse.
When I see you, I realize how much
you must've wanted to come here.
And you came,
leaving all your excuses back
in Mumbai.
That's what I find so endearing.
- Then...
- Sarika!
Yes.
Shall we?
He's publishing a novel too.
When will it be published?
It's with the editor.
He'll chop it up and send it back.
The rain clouds in the eyes
do not lessen do not lessen
The rain clouds in the eyes
do not lessen do not lessen
The rainy season
Never leaves the land of Braj
The rain keeps falling
The rain clouds in the eyes
do not lessen do not lessen
The pain of separation laden
the falling raindrops
The feeling is overwhelming
It makes my hands rise
And my heart swells with yearning
The rain clouds in the eyes do not lessen
The rain clouds in the eyes do not lessen
All seasons have turned into one in Braj
All seasons have turned
Into one in Braj
Turning all upside down
With you gone
Surdas has abandoned all shame
The rain clouds in the eyes
do not lessen do not lessen
What is it?
The number 19 in Hindi looks like
two people upset with one another.
Have you ever been this happy with me?
What do you mean?
It means what it means.
Does it upset you that I'm happy?
No. You can be happy, and you are.
Maybe you weren't happy with me.
- It must be my fault.
- What are you saying?
Coming back to my childhood home
was bound to make me happy.
That doesn't mean I was never
happy with you.
Why can't I remember those times?
Because we're used to each other.
No one remembers their daily life.
We forget as time passes.
We change.
What has changed?
I'm exactly the same.
No, you're not, Dipankar.
You're not the same, neither am I.
Nor is our relationship.
There's nothing surprising about that.
It happens.
You asked when we were last
happy together.
I ask you...
when were we last sad together, Dipankar?
Maybe very often.
Now don't tell me you've forgotten
because you have dementia.
Recognize me?
I used to come here
when I was a child.
You still come here.
You liar!
Why were you standing outside
for so long?
What is this bag you're carrying?
What did you do with the ring
I gave you?
Three people rose from the sea.
They said, "Will you come?"
I said, "No.
I will go with my master."
They started living in this hut.
They threw me out.
The sun, moon, sea, clouds...
they all fought.
"I am your master.
No, I am your master."
One day the sea got mad at me.
I glared back at it.
It did not back off,
so I threw your ring at it.
It ebbed away.
It receded.
What did you bring in your bag?
Tell me.
You must've brought something.
That day my sister Venu and I were
skipping near the well.
She said, "Let's play tug-of-war."
She knew she'd win.
At first, she just laughed at me.
"You're all bones."
I called her an "aubergine"
and she laughed even louder.
Then she clenched her teeth...
and wrapped the rope
around her hand.
She pulled the rope hard.
The rope slipped out of my hands.
I ran towards her.
I saw her feet in the well.
Then her head emerged,
and she cried, "Shailu!"
I ran to my father and said, "Venu."
Then I burst out crying.
Everyone said I wouldn't find you again.
- That you must've...
- Died by now.
You didn't forget me.
That's why I live.
Come back again.
NIGOJKAR
HOME STAY
Didn't Sarika and Riddhi come?
No, sir.
My wife isn't keen on fairs.
Riddhi prefers to spend time
with her friends.
She says, "Only kids go out
with their parents."
What time is your train tomorrow?
Two in the afternoon.
Do you ever visit Mumbai?
Not really.
The bank sent me there
for training a few years ago.
Where did I stay?
Parel? Parle?
They both exist!
If you smell biscuits, it's Parle.
If you smell the sea, it's Parel.
Right.
We live in Dadar.
If you visit again,
do come home.
Yes.
Can I ask you something, sir?
Is Shailaja okay?
A few months ago, we were told
she has a neurological condition.
Dementia.
The doctors said her memory
will slowly deteriorate.
She's already started to forget things.
Names, faces, her childhood.
Sometimes she struggles
to even recognize herself.
That's why she wanted to...
- "Origin."
- What?
To return to her beginning.
Now which ride?
Shall we?
No chance! I can't manage that!
Katha?
I can't manage it either.
Go ahead! I'm here.
- Katha, shall we have a Popsicle?
- Yes!
Are you scared?
When it starts I am.
It's been years since I sat
on a Ferris wheel.
- Two Popsicles.
- Kaala Khatta.
Do you get scared?
- Yes! Do you?
- No.
You must get scared sometimes.
Sometimes.
What scares you?
When I head off to school,
remember it's drawing day
and I've forgotten my color pencils.
So, what do you do?
I'll tell the teacher that I forgot.
Is she okay with that?
Yes. She forgets things too.
Don't add red syrup.
If the wheel ever stopped mid-air,
I didn't want it to start again.
Even today I don't want it to.
When I was in Mumbai last week,
I was in a great hurry to get here.
Now when I'm here, I miss Mumbai.
Today,
after ages,
in this moment,
I don't feel the need to hurry.
This is where I wanted to be.
And I'm here.
Why didn't you come back sooner, Shailaja?
I don't know.
After I left, I didn't find the time
to come back.
Our whole life is spent
in a dilemma.
Do we choose a busy
or a peaceful life?
Only recently life said to me,
"Slow down."
So I did.
The last time we came to this fair,
how was it?
Do you remember?
I don't remember it at all.
I don't even remember what
I looked like.
Tell me.
We were all there.
Gauri, Parshuram, Mohit, Ashwini.
You, me, Venu.
You were wearing a light blue frock.
There was your friend too.
I didn't like her at all.
- Jyoti?
- Deepika!
Deepika.
Deepika Bhalekar.
I heard her tell you,
"Pradeep has brought you flowers."
You got embarrassed and said, "Why
just for me? They're for everyone."
You got upset and stopped talking to me.
You didn't want to ride the Ferris wheel
to avoid being alone with me.
That's all I remember.
We never spoke after that.
Then the incident with Venu happened
and we left Vengurla.
Half asleep.
Pradeep.
Sorry.
I should've apologized to you
28 years ago.
But I really didn't know that was
the last day we'd meet.
And I didn't know if I'd ever
see you again.
So thank you for coming back, Shailaja.
And for remembering me.
I may not be able to remember
for long.
Don't worry. I'll remember you.
Look at this.
If you walk, it will follow you.
Bribe?
- No. Shailaja sent this for you.
- Really?
It's lovely.
The bribe.
I'm dying of stress, and you're
the one getting a head massage!
A quirk of fate, my son.
It's all karma.
Come and see us, I'll give
you a head massage.
I wish.
So how's it going?
- All good!
- It's so different from Mumbai.
When are you back home?
Tomorrow.
When are you coming?
I must submit my papers next week, Ma.
I'll be back by Diwali.
Bharat.
Take care of yourself.
We're fine. Bye.
- Bye, Mom.
- Bye, my child.
What if I forget Bharat?