Madurai to Madras, and again to Madurai

Chapter 1

My journey began in the city of Madurai, where I was born and raised. The streets of Madurai were always alive with the sounds of temple bells, the chatter of vendors, and the laughter of children playing in the alleys. I spent my childhood here, immersed in the culture and traditions of this ancient city.

After completing my studies and finishing college in Madurai, I felt a longing for something more. I had always been passionate about storytelling, and the world of cinema had a magnetic pull on me. My dream was to become a screenplay writer, to see my stories come to life on the big screen. At 25, I decided to take a leap of faith and move to Madras to pursue my dream.

The train ride from Madurai to Madras was filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension. As the landscape changed from the rolling hills and temples of Madurai to the urban sprawl of Madras, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. This was a new beginning, a chance to make my mark in the world of cinema.

When I arrived in Madras, the city greeted me with its characteristic hustle and bustle. The streets were crowded with rickshaws, bicycles, and cars, all moving in a chaotic yet somehow harmonious dance. The air was thick with the scent of street food – dosas, vadas, and steaming cups of filter coffee. I could hear the distant hum of traffic mixed with the sounds of people going about their daily lives.

My first stop was Amravati Studios, where I had sent my screenplay a few weeks earlier. With my heart pounding, I walked through the gates of the studio, hoping that my script had been well-received. The studio was a sprawling complex, with sets of various films being constructed and actors rehearsing their lines.

"Excuse me, I'm Balendra Narayanappa. I sent a screenplay a few weeks ago," I said to the receptionist, trying to keep my voice steady.

She looked up from her desk and smiled. "Ah, yes. Mr. Balendra, welcome. Your script was quite impressive. The production department has decided to move forward with it. Please wait here; someone will be with you shortly."

I could hardly believe my ears. My script had been accepted! After a few moments, a man approached me. He was tall and had an air of authority about him.

"Balendra, right?" he asked, extending his hand. "I'm Ramaiya Suder Rajan Iyer, the director assigned to your screenplay. You can call me Rajan instead. Congratulations, it's a remarkable story."

"Thank you, sir," I replied, shaking his hand. "It's an honor to meet you."

Rajan was in his early thirties, just a few years older than me. He had already directed four blockbuster films and was considered one of the rising stars of the industry.

"Let's get to work," Rajan said with a smile. "I'll introduce you to the crew."

We walked through the studio, and Rajan introduced me to various members of the film-making team. There was Kumar, the cinematographer, known for his impeccable framing and lighting. Anita, the costume designer, who had an eye for detail and authenticity. And then there was Suresh, the production manager, who seemed to have a handle on everything.

"Balendra, this is Kumar, our cinematographer," Rajan said. "Kumar, meet Balendra, our talented screenwriter."

"Nice to meet you, Balendra," Kumar said, shaking my hand. "I read your script. It's brilliant."

"Thank you, Kumar. I'm looking forward to working with you," I replied.

We spent the rest of the day discussing the script and the vision for the film. Rajan was particularly enthusiastic about the story, which was an adaptation of the tale of Angulimala and Buddha. The film revolved around a ruthless dacoit who, after a life of merciless killing, seeks redemption through a monk who enlightens him.

"This story has the potential to be something truly special," Rajan said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "It's not just an action film; it's a story of transformation and redemption."

The studio provided me with a room to stay, which was a great relief. The room was small but comfortable, with a desk where I could work on my scripts. They also paid me 300 rupees for the screenplay, which, although modest, was a start.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of activity. We began pre-production work, with meetings, rehearsals, and set constructions taking up most of our time. Rajan's energy and dedication were infectious, and the entire crew was motivated to make the film a success.

One evening, as we were wrapping up for the day, Rajan pulled me aside.

"Balendra, I have a feeling about this film," he said. "I think it could be something extraordinary. But it's going to take all of us working together, giving our best."

"I believe in it too, Rajan," I replied. "And I'll do whatever it takes to make it a success."

As the first day of shooting approached, the excitement in the studio was palpable. The set was abuzz with activity, and I could see the characters I had created coming to life before my eyes. It was a surreal experience, one that filled me with a sense of accomplishment and purpose.

The city of Madras had welcomed me with open arms, and I was ready to embrace this new chapter of my life. Little did I know that this was just the beginning of a journey filled with both triumphs and tribulations, a journey that would shape my life in ways I could never have imagined.

Chapter 2

The first day of shooting dawned bright and early. The streets were already alive with the sounds of vendors setting up their stalls, the occasional honking of rickshaws, and the distant hum of the morning prayer chants from nearby temples.

I arrived at Amravati Studios feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. The studio lot was a hive of activity. Set designers were putting the final touches on the intricate set pieces, electricians were rigging up lights, and the sound team was setting up their equipment. There was an electric energy in the air, a palpable sense of anticipation and readiness.

"Good morning, Balendra!" Rajan greeted me with a hearty handshake. His enthusiasm was contagious. "Are you ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, trying to hide the nervous flutter in my stomach.

"Come on, let's take a look at the set," Rajan said, leading me through the maze of cables and cameras.

The set was an impressive sight. The art department had outdone themselves, recreating a dense forest scene where the dacoit Angulimala would have his first encounter with the monk. The attention to detail was astounding—from the towering trees and the underbrush to the weathered path that wound through the woods. It felt like stepping into another world.

Kumar was already there, positioning the cameras and discussing shots with his crew.

"Balendra, good to see you," he said, giving me a nod. "We're just about ready to start. Rajan and I were discussing the first scene. We want to capture the raw intensity of Angulimala's character right from the get-go."

As we talked, the actors began to arrive. The actor playing Angulimala, Raghavan, was a seasoned performer known for his intense roles. He was a towering figure with a brooding presence, perfect for the role of the ruthless dacoit. His co-star, Arjun, who was playing the monk, had a serene and calm demeanor that contrasted beautifully with Raghavan's intensity.

"Raghavan, Arjun, meet Balendra," Rajan introduced us. "He's the genius behind the screenplay."

"Pleasure to meet you, Balendra," Raghavan said, shaking my hand firmly. "I've been looking forward to this."

"Same here," Arjun added, his voice calm and soothing. "Your script is powerful. It's an honor to bring it to life."

The first scene was a crucial one. It depicted Angulimala's confrontation with a group of villagers—a scene filled with raw violence and emotion. The villagers, dressed in ragged clothes, were played by a group of talented character actors who had perfected the art of looking terrified.

"Places, everyone!" Rajan called out, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Let's get ready for the first take."

The set fell silent as everyone took their positions. The cameras were set, the lights adjusted, and the sound team was ready. I stood next to Rajan, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it—the moment I had been dreaming of.

"Action!" Rajan shouted, his voice echoing through the set.

Raghavan, as Angulimala, sprang into action. His performance was nothing short of mesmerizing. He moved with a feral grace, his eyes blazing with intensity. The villagers reacted with genuine fear, their screams echoing through the forest set. The tension was palpable, and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

The scene played out perfectly. Raghavan's raw energy was matched by the terrified responses of the villagers. The camera captured every movement, every expression, with a precision that brought the scene to life. When Rajan finally called "Cut!" the entire set erupted in applause.

"Fantastic work, everyone!" Rajan said, beaming with pride. "Raghavan, that was incredible. You really brought Angulimala to life."

"Thank you, Rajan," Raghavan replied, wiping the sweat from his brow. "It's all in the script. Balendra, you've written something truly special."

I felt a swell of pride. Seeing my words brought to life in such a powerful way was an indescribable feeling. It was a validation of all the hard work and passion I had poured into the script.

The rest of the day continued in a blur of activity. Scene after scene, the story of Angulimala and the monk unfolded with a seamless blend of action and emotion. Rajan's direction was masterful, guiding the actors and crew with a clear vision and unwavering dedication.

During a break, I found myself standing next to Kumar, who was adjusting the lighting for the next scene.

"This is amazing, Kumar," I said, watching the crew at work. "The way you're capturing the essence of the story... it's beyond anything I imagined."

"Thanks, Balendra," Kumar replied, smiling. "It's a team effort. Rajan's vision, your script, the actors' performances—everything comes together to create magic."

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the set, we wrapped up the first day of shooting. 

"Great work today, everyone!" Rajan called out. "Let's get some rest and be ready for another exciting day tomorrow."

As I left the studio, I felt a deep sense of fulfillment. I walked back to my room, I couldn't help but smile, knowing that this was just the start of a dream come true.

Chapter 3

The months that followed our first day of shooting where hectic with lots of undertaking going on. From early morning shoots to late-night script revisions, every day was a new adventure. The studio became my second home, a place where creativity thrived and every member of the crew worked tirelessly to bring our vision to life.

"Balendra, this scene needs more intensity," Rajan would say, pacing back and forth, his brow furrowed in concentration. "We need to feel Angulimala's internal struggle."

"Got it, Rajan," I'd reply, scribbling down notes on my script. "I'll work on adding more depth to his dialogue."

Rajan's attention to detail was astounding. He would spend hours perfecting a single scene, ensuring that every frame was just right.  Kumar, was a genius with the camera. His ability to capture the essence of a moment brought my script to life in ways I had never imagined.

"Balendra, come look at this shot," Kumar called out one evening, waving me over to the monitor. "See how the light falls on Raghavan's face? It highlights his torment perfectly."

"It's incredible, Kumar," I said, genuinely awestruck. "You've brought a whole new dimension to the scene."

Watching my words turn into moving images on the screen was a surreal experience. The characters I had created on paper now had faces, voices, and emotions. It was as if they had stepped out of my imagination and into reality.

One night, after a particularly grueling day of shooting, Rajan and I sat in his office, discussing the next day's scenes. The room was filled with the smell of coffee and the sound of crickets chirping outside.

"Rajan, do you think the audience will connect with Angulimala's journey?" I asked, my voice tinged with worry.

"Absolutely, Balendra," Rajan replied confidently. "His story of redemption is universal. Everyone can relate to the struggle for forgiveness and change."

The camaraderie among the crew was infectious. We were all working towards a common goal, and the sense of shared purpose was palpable. Every scene was a collaborative effort, with everyone contributing their skills and expertise.

"Anita, these costumes are perfect," I told the costume designer one day. "They really bring out the period setting."

"Thank you, Balendra," Anita replied, smiling. "I'm glad you like them. It's important to stay true to the era."

As the months flew by, the film slowly took shape. The story of Angulimala's transformation from a ruthless dacoit to a repentant monk was powerful and moving. Each scene added another layer to his character, and the audience would be taken on an emotional journey.

Finally, the day came when the film was ready for release. It was an exciting yet nerve-wracking moment. The film was released in Tamil and dubbed in Telugu and Malayalam in 1976. We all gathered at a local theater for the premiere, our hearts pounding with anticipation.

"Balendra, this is it," Rajan said, his eyes shining with excitement. "Our hard work is about to pay off."

As the lights dimmed and the film began, I watched with bated breath. The opening scene, where Angulimala confronts the villagers, set the tone for the rest of the film. The audience was immediately captivated, their eyes glued to the screen.

Throughout the film, there were moments of silence, gasps, and even applause. When the final scene played, showing Angulimala finding peace through the monk's teachings, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

The applause at the end was thunderous. Rajan and I exchanged relieved smiles, knowing that we had created something special. The film was a hit not just in Tamil Nadu, but across the country. It became the third highest-grossing movie in the state.

International distributors took notice, and soon the film was being screened in Russia, Europe, and America. The response was overwhelming. Critics praised the film for its powerful storytelling and exceptional performances.

The accolades started pouring in. I received numerous awards for the screenplay from various international film festivals. At one such festival, I found myself on stage, accepting the award for Best Foreign Screenplay.

"This award is a testament to the hard work and dedication of the entire team," I said into the microphone, my voice steady but emotional. "Rajan, Kumar, and every single member of the crew—this is for you."

After the ceremony, Rajan pulled me aside. "Balendra, you've created something truly special," he said, his eyes filled with pride. "I'm honored to have been a part of it."

"The honor is mine, Rajan," I replied, shaking his hand firmly. "Thank you for bringing my story to life."

Chapter 4

Buoyed by the success of my first film, I wrote another screenplay the following year and sold it to Amravati Studios. By this time, I had bought an apartment in Madras and was enjoying zipping through the city on my moped. Life was becoming more comfortable, and the city felt like home. Even more joyously, I had managed to marry my childhood girlfriend, Geeta, from Madurai. She moved to the city with me, and together we began our new life.

One evening, after a long day of writing, I presented my new screenplay to Rajan and the producers at Amravati Studios. This new story was set in the 10th century AD in a fictional kingdom named Suryagarh. It revolved around a serial killer and the royal jester's quest to unmask him. The narrative was filled with twists and turns, suspense, and drama.

"This is brilliant, Balendra," Rajan said, thumbing through the pages of the script. "A royal jester turning into a detective—it’s unique and intriguing."

"Thank you, Rajan," I replied, feeling a surge of pride. "I believe it has the potential to captivate the audience just like Angulimala's story did."

The producer, Mr. Upendra Balgopalan Swami, nodded in agreement. "Rajan, you're directing this one too. You've turned Balendra's stories into gold before, and I trust you'll do it again."

Rajan grinned, but a problem quickly surfaced. "We need someone to play the jester," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Someone who can bring the character’s wit and intelligence to life. Any ideas?"

We tossed around a few names, but none seemed right. Suddenly, Rajan turned to me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Why don't you do it, Balendra?"

"Me? An actor? I've only ever played Macbeth in a school drama competition," I protested, shaking my head.

"Exactly! You have the experience," he said, laughing. "Besides, who else can understand the character better than the writer himself?"

Geeta, who had been listening quietly, chimed in. "I think you’d be great, Balendra. You’ve always had a knack for drama."

Despite my nervousness, I agreed. The next few weeks were a blur of rehearsals and costume fittings. Rajan's enthusiasm was contagious, and soon I found myself immersed in the role of the jester.

"Remember, Balendra," Rajan said during one of our late-night rehearsals, "the jester is clever but also vulnerable. He uses humor to mask his fears and doubts. You need to show both sides."

I nodded, absorbing his direction. Acting was a whole new experience, and I found myself enjoying it more than I had expected.

The shoot took five intense months. Rajan was a perfectionist, often shooting a scene multiple times until he was satisfied. "Let's do it once more, with feeling," he’d say, encouraging the cast and crew to give their best.

One day, during a particularly challenging scene where the jester confronts the suspected killer, Rajan pulled me aside. "You’re doing great, Balendra, but we need more intensity. Think about the stakes. The jester’s life is on the line."

Taking a deep breath, I stepped back in front of the camera, channeling all the fear and determination the character would feel. The result was electrifying, and Rajan’s approving nod told me I had nailed it.

Finally, after five months of shooting and another month of  editing and sound design, the film was ready for release. The premiere night was filled with anticipation. Geeta held my hand tightly as we waited for the film to start.

As the lights dimmed and the film began, the audience was transported to the ancient kingdom of Suryagarh. The suspense and drama kept everyone on the edge of their seats. When the final credits rolled, the applause was thunderous.

The next day, reviews started pouring in. The film was hailed as another blockbuster, with particular praise for the screenplay and the performances. To my surprise and delight, many critics singled out my portrayal of the jester as a highlight.

"Balendra, you were incredible!" Geeta exclaimed, hugging me tightly after reading the reviews. "I always knew you had it in you."

"Thank you, Geeta," I said, feeling a mix of relief and happiness. "I couldn’t have done it without Rajan’s guidance and your support."

Rajan, too, was beaming with pride. "We did it again, Balendra. Another hit! Your story and your performance have struck a chord with the audience."

Life couldn't get any better. I had not only written the screenplay but also acted in a successful film. The success of the second film solidified my place in the industry, and I looked forward to many more adventures with Rajan and the team at Amravati Studios.

Chapter 5

The following year, inspired by the wave of social change sweeping across the nation, I penned another screenplay, this time focusing on a woman journalist who takes a stand against adulteration in food products and performs daring sting operations. The script was gripping and timely, and when I presented it to Rajan, his eyes lit up.

"This is powerful, Balendra," he said, his voice filled with excitement. "This story needs to be told, and I know just the person to bring the lead character to life."

"Who do you have in mind?" I asked, curious about his choice.

"Geeta," Rajan replied without hesitation.

I was taken aback. "Geeta? But she’s never acted in a film before."

"That’s precisely why she’s perfect," Rajan explained. "She has a natural presence and authenticity that will resonate with the audience. Trust me on this."

That evening, I discussed the idea with Geeta. She was both nervous and excited at the prospect.

"Do you really think I can do it, Balendra?" she asked, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

"I know you can," I reassured her, holding her hands. "You’ve always been a strong and fearless woman. This role is just an extension of who you are."

The next few months were a tornado of preparations. Geeta threw herself into the role, attending workshops and rehearsals, determined to give her best performance. On the first day of shooting, she was visibly anxious.

"You’ll be amazing," I whispered to her as she stood in front of the camera for the first time. "Just be yourself."

As the filming progressed, Geeta’s confidence grew. Rajan’s direction and the support of the crew helped her blossom into the character. The film’s storyline, revolving around her courageous stings and protests, struck a chord with everyone on set.

One memorable scene involved Geeta confronting a corrupt businessman who was behind the adulteration racket. As the camera rolled, her intensity and passion were palpable. "You think you can get away with poisoning people for profit?" she demanded, her voice trembling with anger. "Not on my watch!"

When the film was finally released, it was an instant hit. Audiences and critics alike praised Geeta’s performance. The film not only did well at the box office but also sparked conversations about food safety and consumer rights. 

"Geeta, you were incredible!" I said, wrapping her in a tight after the premiere. "I knew you had it in you."

"Thank you, Balendra," she replied, tears of joy in her eyes. "I couldn’t have done it without your support and Rajan’s guidance."

The accolades poured in from various international film festivals, and once again, I found myself receiving numerous awards. But this time, the joy was doubled as I shared the limelight with Geeta. 

Over the next twenty years, I continued to write prolifically, penning fifteen screenplays. Of these, Rajan directed only seven, as his own career branched out into different projects. Nevertheless, our collaborations remained the most cherished.

I also began to explore acting more seriously, taking on roles in seven or eight movies. It was a thrilling experience to see my characters come to life not just through others but through my own performances. In addition to screenwriting and acting, I wrote songs for various commercial Tamil and Telegu films.

Geeta continued to act in several of the films I wrote, and we became a well-known couple in the industry. Our on-screen chemistry mirrored our real-life partnership, earning us a special place in the hearts of audiences.

In the midst of our busy careers, we welcomed our daughter, Meenakshi, into the world. She brought immense joy and balance to our lives, grounding us amidst the glamour and chaos of the film industry. By 1999, Meenakshi was 18 years old and blossoming into a talented young woman, showing an interest in the arts and possibly following in our footsteps.

"Mom, Dad, I’ve been thinking," Meenakshi said one evening, her eyes bright with determination. "I want to try acting. I think it’s in my blood."

Geeta and I exchanged proud glances. "We’ll support you in whatever you choose to do," I said, feeling a surge of pride and excitement.

By this time, our hard work had afforded us a comfortable life. We owned a beautiful bungalow in the city and a serene farmhouse on the outskirts where we could escape from the hustle and bustle. With three cars parked in our driveway, life seemed perfect, filled with love, success, and dreams for the future.

One sunny morning, as we sat on the veranda of our farmhouse, sipping coffee, Geeta looked around and smiled. "We’ve come a long way, haven’t we, Balendra?"

"Yes, we have," I replied, squeezing her hand. "And it’s been an incredible journey. Here’s to many more adventures."

As I looked at my family and reflected on the journey from Madurai to Madras, from a struggling writer to a celebrated screenwriter and actor, I felt a profound sense of gratitude. Life had indeed been generous, and I was ready to embrace whatever the future held.

Chapter 6

It was a Sunday morning, around 10 o'clock. As an early riser, I had already finished my breakfast when my secretary came running into the room, slightly out of breath.

"Sir, a man named Arvind from Madurai has come to meet you with his son," he said.

I remembered Arvind from my hometown. Both Geeta and I went to meet them. Arvind's son, Ayappan, was 21 years old and full of enthusiasm. We talked for about ten minutes, reminiscing about old times.

"Remember the summer festival in Madurai?" Arvind chuckled. "You were always the best at the kabaddi matches."

I laughed. "Yes, and you always managed to sell out your lemonade stand."

After our trip down memory lane, Arvind finally came to the point. His voice tinged with desperation as he spoke.

"My son wants to direct a film. He has written the screenplay, but it has been rejected by several producers in Madras. We came to you, hoping you could produce the film."

I looked at Ayappan, who was visibly anxious but determined. "Let me read the script," I said. "I will give you my decision in three days."

That evening, I read the screenplay. It was about a girl who aspired to become an actress but was asked for casting couch favors by the producer. She refused, and during their confrontation, she accidentally killed him. The movie revolved around the dark secrets of the cinema industry.

The next morning, I called Arvind and Ayappan to my office. 

"I have read the script," I began. "It's bold and thought-provoking. I am ready to produce the film."

Ayappan's eyes lit up with excitement. "Thank you, sir! This means the world to me."

He then hesitated before adding, "I have one more request. I would like to cast your daughter, Meenakshi, as the lead role."

I considered this. Meenakshi was incredibly talented and had already made a name for herself in stage theatre. 

"I agree," I said, nodding. "Meenakshi is perfect for the role."

The film took a year to make. When it was released, it received mixed reviews. It was boycotted in some parts of the country but ran successfully for three weeks and was declared a superhit. Ayappan and Meenakshi both received awards from different film festivals.

The following year, Ayappan came to me with another screenplay about a social activist trying to stop prostitution. 

"This story needs to be told," he said passionately.

"I agree," I replied. "But I think we should cast newcomers this time. It will bring fresh energy to the film."

Ayappan shook his head. "Meenakshi is perfect for this role too. Her presence will give the film the weight it needs."

Despite my advice, he went ahead with Meenakshi as the lead. The film was boycotted in some parts of India, and parts of it were censored in West Bengal and Maharashtra. The film performed averagely at the box office but managed to recover its budget.

One evening, Meenakshi sat down with Geeta and me.

"There's something I need to tell you," she said, her eyes sparkling. "I'm in love with Ayappan."

Geeta and I exchanged glances, smiling. "We had a feeling," Geeta said warmly.

The next month, we got them engaged, and six months later, they were happily married. Soon after, Ayappan came to me with another film idea.

"Sir," he said, showing me an English magazine titled "Are Movies Promoting Masculinity?" "I want to tackle this issue in my next film. And I want you to write the screenplay."

I thought over the topic. "It's an interesting challenge," I said finally. "I'll do it."

I came up with a story about a film critic who starts protesting and writing articles against movies that promote masculinity. Ayappan wanted Meenakshi as the lead again, and I agreed. 

Chapter 7

The film's release was postponed due to the Lok Sabha elections. With the nation gripped by political fervor, any significant movie release was bound to be overshadowed. We decided to wait, anticipating a grand opening once the elections were over. A month before the release, Meenakshi and Ayappan came to us with joyous news .....

"Appa, Amma, we have some news!" Meenakshi said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"What is it, kanna?" Geeta asked, smiling.

"We're going to have a baby!" Meenakshi announced, her face glowing with happiness.

Geeta and I were overjoyed. We celebrated with sweets, calling our friends and family to share the wonderful news. The house was filled with laughter and cheer, and for a moment, all our worries seemed to vanish.

However, reality hit hard when the film was finally released. It was a disaster. Almost all the producers across the country boycotted it, and cinema halls were threatened not to screen it. The reasons were varied and complex—some cited the controversial subject matter, while others simply bowed to pressure from influential groups. The film, which we had all worked so hard on, was met with an almost universal cold shoulder.

"Sir, we have a problem," my secretary said one morning, his voice trembling. "None of the major cinema halls are willing to screen the film."

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. "What do you mean? Why not?"

"They've received threats. They fear repercussions if they show the film," he explained.

The financial loss was significant. The money I had invested in the film seemed to evaporate overnight. Despite this, we managed to stay afloat, thanks to the savings and previous successes. But the emotional toll was heavy. I was disheartened and felt a deep sense of failure.

Rajan, ever the supportive friend, called me.

"Balendra, I've heard about the situation. Don't worry, we'll get through this," he said reassuringly.

"Thanks, Rajan. But what can we do? The damage seems irreparable," I replied, my voice heavy with despair.

"I'll talk to some of my contacts, see if we can get some theaters to screen the film. I'll also write to the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC). We won't give up without a fight," he promised.

True to his word, Rajan did everything he could. He spoke to theater owners, wrote letters, and even organized a small campaign to garner support for the film. But despite our best efforts, nothing changed. The boycott remained firm, and the film was relegated to the sidelines.

Three months passed in this agonizing limbo. Each day felt like an eternity as we waited for some glimmer of hope. 

One Thursday morning, I woke up early and went for a walk, hoping to clear my mind. The park was serene, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. When I returned home around 7 o'clock, I was met with a sight that froze me in my tracks. Geeta ran towards me, her face pale and eyes red from crying.

"Geeta, what's wrong?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Balendra, it's Ayappan... he... he..." she couldn't finish her sentence, her voice breaking into sobs.

"What happened to Ayappan? Tell me!" I demanded, my voice rising with panic.

"He... he committed suicide," she finally managed to say, collapsing into my arms.

The world around me seemed to spin. My knees buckled, and I struggled to comprehend the words. We rushed to their house, the journey feeling like a nightmare from which I couldn't wake up. When we arrived, the scene was heart-wrenching. Arvind saw me and burst into tears, hugging me tightly.

"Why, Balendra? Why did this have to happen?" he cried, his grief mirrored in my own heart.

I felt the weight of the world crushing down on me. My head was spinning, and I felt dizzy, but somehow I managed to stay on my feet. The loss of Ayappan was a blow that cut deep into my soul. He was not just my son-in-law; he was like a son to me, full of promise and potential.

The days that followed were a blur of sorrow and disbelief. The funeral was a somber affair, attended by family, friends, and colleagues from the film industry. Meenakshi was inconsolable, her grief compounded by the loss of her husband and the father of her unborn child. Geeta and I did our best to support her, but the pain was overwhelming.

"Appa, why did he leave us? Why?" Meenakshi sobbed, clutching my hand.

"I don't know, kanna. I wish I had an answer," I replied, my own voice choked with tears.

The industry was abuzz with speculation and rumors, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was that Ayappan was gone, leaving a void that could never be filled. The loss was a stark reminder of the harsh realities of the film world, a world that could be as cruel as it was glamorous.

Years later, we made the difficult decision to leave Madras and return to Madurai. The city that had once held so much promise now seemed like a place of painful memories. We moved back to our hometown, hoping to find some solace in the familiar surroundings.

Life in Madurai was different. The pace was slower, the people more grounded. It was a return to our roots, a chance to heal and rebuild. I had quit the film industry, deciding that my time in the limelight was over. My focus was now on my family, especially on Meenakshi and my grandson Ankur.

Epilogue

As I sit here, reflecting on my journey, I realize that life is a series of highs and lows. The film industry gave me fame and fortune but also brought heartache and loss. The important thing is to keep moving forward, no matter what.

Peace and culture are two things that are available in abundance in Madurai. This is where happiness lies, within the circle of loved ones and comfort of the life which has been fulfilled. My life story is one of achieved dreams and fought wars, a clear narrative of the journey of man.

And so, I remain Balendra, a man who lived his dreams and faced his nightmares, finding solace in the place where it all began.