She stared at the circular ring, made by the coffee mug on the table. It had dried up and was almost impossible to get rid off. She kept looking at it absentmindedly as the coffee was in her hand. A new mug filled with fresh coffee to make a new ring on the table. She was interrupted by the mobile beeping.

She looked at the message and coffee spilled out of her mug as her hands shook.

It was pouring that Sunday afternoon.

“My flyers are all destroyed. Damn the rains”, his tone had more anguish than anger. Usually it was always the other way around.

“That’s a first for you,” she looked up from her magazine, smiling at his more mellow outburst to his usual demeanour.

He looked at her, part angry, part bewildered, but mostly still upset at the loss of his flyers. As he sat down on the seat next to hers, his drenched jeans made a splashing sound. People around the cafe turned to look towards them.

She took out a pocket towel from her bag and gently wiped his face and also touched his wet hair. He instinctively tried to move his head away. He hated anyone touching his hair. But she held his face firmly with her hand as she wiped his head dry. He looked around the cafe to see if anyone else was noticing this “embarrassing” sight. It was a busy weekend evening. People were lost in their own worlds.

She loved him like she had never loved anyone before him. They were two of the unlikeliest people to be with each other. His political ideology his beliefs his outlook to life was at odd opposites to those of hers. Two people could not have been more different from each other as they were. And perhaps because of these differences they complemented each other. They filled out with themselves what the other had missing. If love was to have no sensible logic or rationale or explanation, then the two of them were loving examples of that line of thought.
They spent the rest of the evening together. Holding hands, whispering sweet nothings and generally having a relaxed time. It was one of those blissful evenings which remained etched in her memory long after.

“They just should kicked out of the country” he spewed more venom that usual, that evening.

It was her sister’s anniversary and it was one of the rare occasions she had taken him along to spend time with her family. He always preferred to be just the two of them. She too liked it that way. When they were alone she could see a side of him that the world rarely got to see. The tender, loving, caring side. To the outside world his cynicism, sarcasm and the blatantly right-winged side was familiar. In a way he was much misunderstood, she felt at times. But then again, he didn’t help his own cause by shooting his mouth off.

It was the same that evening. Someone had commented on the present scenario in the country, and he took it on himself to set the record straight.

“Either be butchered here or get the fuck out”, he seemed unstoppable that evening. She looked at him a couple of times to shut him up. Usually she managed to do that with a stare or two. But it just didn’t seem to work. He rambled on and on. Spewing out his venom at all present.

There was an awkward silence all across the room as his voice was the only voice that could be heard. His tone acerbic and cutting, his words hatred-filled, his actions animated like never before. Something seemed to have triggered him off that evening.

She had to no choice but to take him and leave the party. There was a deadly silence in the car as they sat next to each other. It was like the calm after the storm. No one said a word till they reached their respective homes.

“You know you need to learn how to behave in public and not speak whatever filth comes in your mind,” she left nothing unsaid the next morning as they met for breakfast.

“My apologies if the truth upset you and your phoney libtards”, he replied. He certainly wasn’t apologetic about his outburst the previous evening.

She was amazed at his arrogance, and she pitied his ignorance and dogma at the same time. She had a reply to each and every accusation he flung at her at the cafe that morning, but she kept quiet. Her silence was not as much for peace as it was an acceptance that the end was near. She knew she couldn’t make this work any longer.

She could maybe even forgive infidelity on his part maybe even a small fling. But to know of his ideology and accept it and be ok with it was something she just could get used to. Not in her head. Not in her heart. She knew this was it.

It’s funny how love can transcend all rational feelings most of the time, but sometimes the mind knocks the heart down with reasoning that cannot be ignored. Their parting however tragic was ultimately inevitable. It just could not be any other way.
She had cried that night, alone in her bed. Despite all his negatives, she knew she would miss him. She loved him. She could not deny that. Not even to herself.

The coffee rings on the table grabbed her attention once more as she came back to her present day. She looked at the message on her mobile phone once again.
“….the only saving grace was he didn’t suffer too much. He passed away in his sleep peacefully….” that part of the message was the only bit she read again. She shut her eyes for a minute in that family cafe as a couple of tears streamed down her eyes. The first to escape since that night.

The murders continued unabated. Every second day a body would be found in some secluded part of the city. The same modus operandi…strangled by a silk handkerchief. The victim pattern too was similar. Women between the ages 25-35. Most of them escorts. From the manner in which their bodies were found, it was obvious that they had been called to the assigned places where their lives were taken.

Detective John was convinced this was the handiwork of a serial killer. A dangerous one and more frighteningly, a relentless one. Obviously something had triggered him off to go on a killing spree like this. There were 6 bodies found in the last two weeks. The frequency and the intensity were alarming. Apart from the usual pressure from the top, the media as always had gone berserk. They had dubbed the killer ‘The Satin Smotherer’ since all the killings were done by silk kerchiefs. He hated the fact that he had to spend half his working hours dealing with the media rather than focus wholly on the case.

Edward combed his well-moussed hair back as he put his dark glasses on. He took out his pay and use mobile from his pocket and dialed her number. They decided to meet by the cafe in the waterfront. Post coffee he took her to quiet corner on the side of the cafe. As they kissed passionately, he took out a red kerchief from his pocket. Before she knew it, the noose had tightened around her neck. Her eyes widened in a mix of fright and shock, as he kept tightening his grip around her neck. He eased off as he felt her body go limp in his arms, her eyes still open, unfocussed. He let her drop in the deserted alley and walked away, whistling an old Sinatra tune. The blue moon shone brightly as his lonely figure disappeared in the darkness.

John was woken up from his sleep by the early morning phone call. Another body had been found, he was told. He felt his head heavy and his mind wasn’t working. He couldn’t remember when he had fallen asleep last night. It was like a haze to him…the few hours since last evening. He took a shot of whisky from the bottle on his table next to the bed. His head was still feeling heavy as a rock. He got up and splashed some water on his face. He had to get to the station early. The murders were getting out of hand now.

As he reached his office the place was abuzz with reporters who wanted more news on the latest killing. He shunned them off as he rushed towards his cabin. There was a sealed envelope on his table. He took a look at it and then forgot about it, as he got busy with his work. The whole day was spent working with his associates, assimilating facts and theories about how to nab the killer. It was in the evening when he was about to leave his office that his eyes fell on the letter again. It was from his psychiatrist. He tore open the envelope to read the contents.

“Report & Diagnosis: Mr John Edward Smith,

After having gone through the patient’s previous medical history as well as the therapy sessions conducted by me, the conclusions are as follows:

1. The hypomanic episode of Mr Smith last month at the break up of his marriage and the subsequent manic depressive episode at his ex-wife’s residence matches the clear and obvious symptoms of Bipolar II disorder
2. Mr Smith has a tendency to assume a secondary personality which might be completely opposite in nature to his dominant personality and at the same time be unaware of its existence
3. Immediate admission to a specialised psychiatrist medical institute is recommended

John kept staring at the letter even as he reached home that evening. His eyes were fixed on it and he barely batted an eyelid for about fifteen minutes, holding the note all the time. He finally got off the couch keeping the note on the table beside.

He went to his bedroom and stood in front of the mirror and stared hard at it. He could clearly see Edward, the ‘Satin Smotherer’ staring back at him from the mirror. The evil grin on his face was unmistakable.

“Edward must die”, were John’s last words as he put his device revolver to his temple and shut his eyes.

Copyright (c) Pratik Majumdar

SATYAKAM: (1969):Cast: Dharmendra, Sharmila Tagore, Sanjeev Kumar, Asrani, Robi Ghosh, Tarun Bose, Ashok Kumar.

Directed by: Hrishikesh Mukherjee

To me personally, Satyakam is quite simply Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s best film. I have lost count of the number of times I have seen this film. However what amazes me is how little most of us take from this film, in terms of its cinematic content and character development. To a vast majority of its viewers (me included till recently) Satyakam is about the honest upright refusing-to-bend/compromise lead character in the film i.e. Satya Priya (Dharmendra in the performance of a lifetime).
However it is only now after having seen the film so many times over, do I realise that Satyakam actually works not because Dharmendra is shown as a super-strong, morally upright human being who refuses to budge in spite of difficulties. I now feel that Satyakam is an honest portrayal of the weaknesses and failures of a man who refuses to budge. And when I say honest, I mean it is so well depicted and well made that we actually feel for the protagonist despite his many short-comings (yes he has many….which in fact make him human and thus indentifiable and lovable)
There is a line spoken in the film by Naren (Sanjeev Kumar in an equally superb performance, unfairly overlooked because of Dharam’s tour-de-force performance) tells Sat, “too much of everything is bad”. This probably sums up the entire movie. Satyapriya in his effort to remain honest and corruption-free doesn’t realise when he himself has become rigid inflexible and dogmatic. He refuses to see any other way out even when it means suffering and disaster for his own family.
Sat’s honesty (and indeed weakness) comes to the fore when he initially refuses to marry Ranjana (Sharmila, delightful dignified and dramatic all at once). His hesitation in accepting a proposal from Ranjana actually indirectly is the cause for to be dishonouored and it is only after this incident that he agrees to marry her. A bold step, a great decision no doubt, but also perhaps a sign of attempting to lessen his own guilt of being partly responsible for Ranjana’s plight.
During the course of the film we also discover that there is a complete absence of any physical intimacy between Sat and Ranjana, much against Ranjana’s wishes. From the beginning we know, Ranjana loves Sat. She is willing to be his wife in the true sense of the word, but it is Sat’s inability to forget her past that acts as a barrier between couple, physically. Sat comes up with a lame, “Main tumhe baaki har khushi deta hoon na”…..to hide his inability to forget her past.
Sat’s righteousness is evident when he suspends one of his subordinates for accepting a bribe. This is what he does best. Any signal of corruption and moral weakness is squashed by Sat without batting an eyelid. He stands for truth and morality as effortlessly as he breathes. It is like oxygen for him. However his weakness comes to the forefront once again when he is confronted by the wife of the suspended officer, who shows him the “reason” why he accepted the bribe (their child lying untreated, without any medical help). Instead of helping the couple, Sat tears up the suspension order and himself resigns from his post, citing his inability to do anything to change the system and help them, being the reason for his resignation. Sat’s intentions are never at any doubt, but his weaknesses all too often, come hand in hand with his strength.
Sat’s refusal to go and have a cup of tea with Naren, because it is his duty hour, is another classic example of the rigidity of his character. Surely, with his house being located just above the office, a cup of tea with his old friend (and current Boss nonetheless) wouldn’t have harmed anyone.
Surreptitiously, Hrishikesh Mukherjee, bares all his weaknesses to us, but such is the power of his truth and the strength of his moral values, that we tend to gloss over them or perhaps not realise them as weaknesses at all.
In the end when Sat is diagnosed with a terminal illness, he passes on his virtues and values to Ranjana. He knows he cannot help them financially, but yet refuses to part with his ideals and his beliefs. He hopes somewhere in his heart that Naren will do the needful after him, but while hoping for that, isn’t he also aware that morally and ethically Naren is different from him and more ‘wordly”? Surely Sat knows this, but…
In the climax Sat signs a piece of document (which is very important tothe plot progression) which Ranjana never expected him to sign. It stands for everything he was always against. But the moment she sees his weak smile when she tears up the document, she realises that Sat knew all along that she would do such. Its perhaps the single most tragic scene in the film, where it is impossible to decide who is on a higher moral ground here, Sat or Ranjana.
My last viewing of Satyakam made me look at the character of the protagonist in a totally new light. It is the story of a very human man. A man who is strong and frail almost at the same time. A man who stands for morality and is yet almost simultaneously unfair and unjust to people he loves. A man whose strength becomes his weakness, resulting in spectacular failure.
Perhaps it is this constant struggle between right and wrong, moral and immoral, just and unjust, and a simple man’s resolve to live life on his own principles and terms, is what makes the character of Satyapriya so endearing to us and the film such an appealing one.

He watched her knit with her trembling hands, sitting in front of the tv. When she watched the tv she stopped knitting. And then she would focus back on her knitting and forget the tv. This went on for a while.

He arranged the table for a dinner for two he was specially planning for the day. Their 30th wedding anniversary. The night had to be different from their usual TV dinners on trays. It had been ages since they’d sat on the dining table and had a meal.

She was knitting away as she asked, “where’s my dinner, am hungry”. She was usually soft spoken, but her raised voice made him look up from the table he was setting. “Just a few minutes more honey,” he said adjusting the candle stand in the middle of the table.

“It’s our anniversary today you know,” he reminded her. He knew her Alzheimer’s was rapidly progressing and he wasn’t surprised the day had slipped past her. She turned around to look at him and all he saw was a blank vacant face staring at him. Her brown eyes had lost the twinkle of those early days and now the sad eyes looked at him expressionless. He smiled at her as he mouthed a kiss towards her, getting the table ready. She turned back and continued knitting.

Once he completed the table, he walked up to her and in a waltzing manner took her hand as he led her towards the table. She looked at him with her surprised eyes. He still looked handsome to her, despite his thinning hair and wrinkled skin. She placed her hand spontaneously on his shoulder, as he led her to the dining table.

She looked in awe as he made her sit on her spot at the dining table. The spread on the table was impressive. He had neatly synchronised the dinner plates and soup bowls and even taken out fresh napkins and mats. She looked around the table to find grilled chicken and sautéed vegetables and potato&leek soup. There was an assortment of bread and cheese too.

“What’s today”, she asked him as she continued staring at the spread on the table.

“It’s our anniv…”, he was answering, when he was stopped mid sentence by her again.

“What’s the date today? Which day is it?”

“It’s Thursday the 6th,” he sighed. Despite adjusting with her illness there were times he felt defeated and tired.

She got off the table with a “I’ll just be back” look to him. He kept sitting at the table fidgeting with his fork, his head bowed down.

The gentle strains of the ukelele surprised him as he got up with a start. He looked up to see her standing in front of him playing the instrument with her fragile trembling hands. As she mouthed some of the words from Love Me Tender, he found the tears streaming down his cheeks. He dropped the fork on the table as he kept staring at her beautiful face as she sang and hummed for him, smiling her angelic smile at him all the while. Like always, she looked more beautiful when she was singing.

He got up from his chair and went up to her and took her in his arms. She looked up at him and whispered “Happy anniversary darling. Did you forget the day today?”

He kissed her and then hugged her tight and said “no my darling how could I”.

“I hope you’ve made my favourite soup and chicken then,” she said as she sat down after ages on the dining table.

Copyright (C) Pratik Majumdar