DIRECTOR SCENE 1

DIRECTOR

Written by Kingson Prabhu Das

SCENE 1

Rain fell endlessly across the mountains of Poombarai.

Cold wind moved through the silent village while thunder echoed somewhere far beyond the hills. Inside an old wooden house standing near the edge of the mountain road, a small fire burned quietly beside a bookshelf filled with film reels, awards, and faded photographs.

A young boy sat near the fireplace staring at two framed pictures hanging on the wall.

One photograph showed William Christopher Spielberg smiling confidently beside a movie camera.

The second showed Shakespeare Steven Nolan standing silently on a film set beneath heavy rain.

Even after decades, their faces still carried the aura of legends.

Stanley Spielberg looked toward his father sitting near the window.

“Appa…”

Martin Spielberg slowly lifted his eyes from the old notebook in his hands.

“Hmm?”

Stanley pointed toward the photographs.

“Were they really enemies?”

For a moment, silence filled the room.

Only the sound of rain touching the roof remained alive.

Martin looked toward the photographs for a long time before quietly smiling.

“No.”

Stanley frowned.

“But everybody says William Christopher Spielberg and Shakespeare Steven Nolan hated each other.”

Martin slowly stood up and walked toward the fireplace.

“They didn’t hate each other,” he said softly.

“They loved cinema too much.”

Lightning flashed outside the house.

Stanley looked confused.

“Then why did they become enemies?”

Martin’s eyes darkened slightly as memories slowly returned to him.

Because once upon a time…

before fame…

before rivalry…

before the world worshipped them like gods of cinema…

William Christopher Spielberg and Shakespeare Steven Nolan were just two middle-class boys from Ooty dreaming beneath the rain.

Martin sat beside Stanley while the fire crackled quietly between them.

Then slowly…

he began telling the story that changed Indian cinema forever.

The hills of Ooty were always covered in mist.

Every morning, cold wind moved through the tea gardens while old buses struggled across the mountain roads. Life there was simple. Small houses. Small dreams. Small futures.

But not for William and Shakespeare.

The two boys grew up in the same street.

William’s father repaired broken radios and televisions for a living. Shakespeare’s father owned a tiny bookstore near the market road where very few people visited anymore.

Neither family had money.

But both boys possessed something far more dangerous.

Imagination.

Every Sunday evening, they escaped into old theatres filled with cigarette smoke, whistles, and screaming audiences. The moment projector light touched the giant screen, their world disappeared.

Cinema became magic.

William loved emotional stories that made audiences cry.

Shakespeare loved intelligent stories that made audiences think.

One watched with his heart.

The other watched with his mind.

Together…

they fell in love with cinema.

Next SCENE 2 is coming soon be ready readers and please like and comment and share and follow for more stories and novels stories and I will to write some chat stories too.

And I’m sorry guys I came so late after months from now I will update every day so stay tuned

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