“Read it again. I’m sending you a copy.”
I used to live on Grey Street Extension in Hatibagan, which was where Manik-da sent me the book. I read it once more; then Manik-da sent for me to read the script to me. It didn’t, however, spell out the last scene. “How will the film end?” I asked. “I’ll tell you later,” he said.
But he didn’t. When we went directly to shoot the final scene, we performed the way Manik-da instructed us to. Shailen-babu held out his hand, and I held out mine. “There must be a small gap,” Manik-da said. “Your hands mustn’t touch.” That was how it was.