Fiction: A Model and Fisherman by Lalit Wankhade

Photo Source: Unsplash

Dawn broke. The sun spilled redness, like lava, over the sea. Sanjana was sipping morning tea in a hotel by the sea. Waves were dashing the shore into white foam and the sound reverberated around. She came out and stood on the balcony. Glancing over the sea, she saw specks dancing in tandem in the long distance. As the sun rose, specks looked like a shadow resembling a fisherman. It seemed that the fisherman was throwing a net and was pulling it back, time and again.

Soon, she would be on the beach, to start a shoot as a model for a cosmetic product. It was only her third work-assignment and the first advertisement with a lead role since a year she came to Mumbai. She did not get any work for months together. Every day, after waking up and getting ready, she explores websites or visits any office or a studio asking for work—sometimes entertained, sometimes embarrassed. Her parents were still depositing money in her bank-account for her sustenance.

The sun rose above the horizon and the sky was cloudless. Sanjana came down on the beach along with a director, a stylist, and a crew. The fisherman was clearly visible: half naked with a lick of sweat racing down his body, would hardly find a fish in one of the many throws, and must had been laboring from before dawn and might not go back until sunlight burnt would be unbearable. She was still watching the fisherman—she thought of him as a robot—performing the same set of immaculate movements repeatedly.

The stylist gave her a beautiful look in a draped red sari. Makeup man put a faint line of kohl on her eyelids and attempted a touch of lipstick. The cameraman was ready with camera and paraphernalia. The director would explain to her a scene and would either let the shoot continue until his satisfaction or he would interrupt and cut. Intermittently, the director would utter some words to her or would reach her—orient her position or demonstrate the situation making her ready for another scene. Her face, though retained an early morning smile, seemed becoming wan after facing so many clicks of the camera. They took a break as the stylist wanted to change Sanjana’s attire. She looked over—the fisherman dripping down sweat was going home with a folded net clutched with one hand and the catch kept into a rattan basket over his head supported by another hand.

It was 8 P.M. Her mind was still skidding over the day-long shoot. She was to leave the hotel the next morning. She stepped out alone to the beach for a walk. The moon spilled silver across the sea. The hustle and bustle of the day was replaced by calm and serenity, except for the breeze in the air, and susurration of the waves. She glanced over the sea; she felt as if a shadow were throwing a net in the water. She cringed and a thought popped up into her mind: “Whether I will get the next assignment? And when?”

Lalit Wankhade is an associate professor at the SGGS Institute of Engineering and Technology, Nanded, India. He had published widely in international journals. He is author of Quality Uncertainty and Perception and How to Write and Publish a Research Paper, available on Amazon.com. Now he is taking keen interest in fiction writing.