Chapter 6: Profits and Peril

My underwater struggle was everywhere—edited, remixed, meme’d. Even before shooting, Guddu Bhai had hyped my return, but now a pandit was predicting my death on the 49th day. Comments, memes, and conspiracy theories flooded WhatsApp and Twitter.

Phones buzzed with: [Is this really Rakesh Sir’s last film?], [AI face replacement!], [I pre-ordered, I’ll see for myself!]

My daughter called, voice trembling. My wife said, “Beta ke liye sab kar lo, par apna khayal rakhna.”

I called Guddu Bhai—he answered on the third try. “Rakesh bhai, kya tension lete ho, aaj raat milte hain!”

We met at a hotel near the set. He flashed his phone—thirty crore in pre-sales. New gold chain, filmy smile, eyes shining: “Log pagal ho gaye hain! Aapki maut ka bhi business ho sakta hai!”

He showed me comments, likes, and laughed, “True or false, as long as people are talking, it’s free publicity!” He promised my share—money for Aarav’s care. I felt both grateful and sick. What was the price of this deal?

I asked about Kunal. He shrugged, “Unlucky kid. His family got compensation. I did a puja.” His answer was too quick, a flicker of fear crossing his face before the smile returned.

I told him about the underwater scene and diyas. He laughed it off—“If it were me, I’d wait till the end! Not at the start, bhai!”

On the way back, my guru called again—preta agni had drained my life force, I was vulnerable. “Beta, har roz tulsi mala pehno. Bina mantra ke kuch mat karo.”

Then my wife messaged—the donor had passed, Aarav’s surgery was about to begin. I pressed my forehead to the wall, whispering a prayer to every god, promising a hundred coconuts if my son survived.