Scene from Indian Screenplay: Destiny is Delivered by a Spirit

Note: Sticklers for screen formatting rules will find all the rules broken here as this blog’s technical limitation screws up any attempts to style it so.


Sonia, solemn, stares out of window into the distance, hugging coffee mug in between her hands. The ghost of Vijay sits directly opposite, eyes filled with love for her. She can’t see him.


How can this be my destiny?

Silly Sonia.

Sonia looks around for him, trying to appear normal. Vijay shows himself to her, now donning his mentor look. As soon as she sees him she stares back out of the window, now donning a poker face.


I don’t know. If you let me down…then, how do I know you’re not going to do it again?

I need my peace too, Sonia. You’ll find your story. Just master the art of patience and we’ll all be fine.

Sonia isn’t convinced. Vijay has an idea.

The next person to walk through the door is going to argue with his wife. He’s misplaced her wedding ring. She’s angry at him for losing it. He’s certain he’ll find it. So am I. The baby over my right shoulder is going to throw her toy.

A BABY (18 months old), sat in a high chair, is being spoon fed by her FATHER, diagonally behind Vijay’s right shoulder.

It will land over there.

At the same time, Vijay points his right finger, over his left shoulder, to the empty doorway, behind him.

(in Hindi)
Watch what happens next.

A moment takes forever to pass. AMAR (42), suited, wearing a turban, ambles through the doorway alone. Several beats pass. Two females friends follow behind.

This is bloody ridiculous.


At the serving counter, there’s a queue of four people. Amar is second in line in front of the two chatty female friends. His mobile rings. Presses the answer button on the wire, connected to an earpiece, masked by his turban.

(over phone, filtered, domineering)
Did you look in the glove compartment, yet?

He steps away from the queue and walks back to the doorway for some privacy.

(into phone ear piece, passive-aggressive)
No. Don’t worry, I’ll find it. If not, I’ll remortgage the house and buy you another one. How about that?

(over phone, filtered, loud)
Don’t take the piss with me Amar. You can shove your smart arse comments right back up there.

Amar purses his lips. At the same time, Father gives his agitated Baby her teddy. She drops it on the floor beside her. Father picks it up and hands it back to her. Sonia quizzes Vijay with her eyes. He’s unfazed.

(over phone, filtered, loud)
I should never have given it to you to look after.

Flying teddy lands in front of Amar.

You do this to me every–

He treads on it and slips, almost landing on his front.

(over phone, filtered)
Amar? Amar?

Embarrassed Father shoots up and dashes towards Amar.

I’m so sorry, mate.

Father lends Amar a hand. He bypasses it and gets himself up. Brushes the dust off his hands.

(to Father)
No need to apologise.

(over phone, filtered)
Apologise for wha–

He slams the button off on the wire and turns back to go to the queue.

(still doubtful, to Vijay)
What about the wedding ring?

(in hindi, vexed)
He’ll find it Sonia. Did I say he’ll find it now?

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2 Responses

  1. Will there be any more samples of your screenplays in the future? I do hope so. I’ve seriously enjoyed these little tidbits.

  2. Gee Sahota says:

    I hope so. Some twists and turns, so I don’t want to give too much away. If you have time read the short story, Who is She? and Sonia’s first journal entry – it will give you more background on the Indian screenplay, at least…here’s hoping for the big screen 🙂