ch-56

The morning sun hung low in the Mumbai sky, painting the streets in hues of gold as Ansh jogged down his usual path, his six-year-old son trotting beside him. It was their daily ritual: a brisk morning jog followed by a quick trip to the local supermarket to pick up milk. Ansh, clad in his worn jogging pants and a simple t-shirt, looked like any ordinary father enjoying a morning with his son. He cherished these quiet moments, away from the noise of the world and the struggles of his past.

Ansh had been through more than his fair share of hardships in the film industry. Once a promising young actor with dreams of stardom, his career had been derailed when he stood up to a powerful producer who had mocked him publicly. The fallout was swift and brutal. Blacklisted and shadow-banned, he found himself pushed to the fringes of the industry. Reduced to playing mob extras and background characters, Ansh clung to his craft, refusing to abandon his dream despite the bleakness of his situation.

But today felt different. As he and his son strolled toward the supermarket, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. There was a hum of activity around them—people glancing his way, whispering to each other. Ansh furrowed his brows, puzzled by the sudden attention.

He looked down at his son, who was holding his hand tightly. "Beta," he asked, his voice light, "is there something on my face? Why is everyone looking at me like that?"

His son squinted up at him, studying his father's face with a mischievous smile. "No, Papa," he said, giggling. "You look the same to me. Maybe they think you're a superhero!"

Ansh chuckled and ruffled his son's hair, brushing off the unease. "Superhero, huh? That'd be something."

By the time they reached the supermarket, the whispers had grown louder. Inside, the cool air greeted them as they walked past aisles of neatly stacked products. Ansh grabbed a basket and made his way toward the dairy section, still oblivious to the growing stir around him.

It started subtly. A young couple near the snack aisle paused mid-conversation, staring at him intently. One of them whispered something to the other, their eyes wide with recognition. Further down the aisle, a teenager pulled out his phone and began recording, his hands trembling with excitement.

"Is that…?" the teen murmured, his voice trailing off as he pointed toward Ansh.

Another shopper, a middle-aged woman, gasped audibly. "It's him! It's Ravan from Ravan's Rampage! I just finished watching it last night!"

The murmurs spread like wildfire. Ansh, still oblivious, bent down to grab a packet of milk, only to hear someone call out, "Excuse me, are you… are you Ravan from that new series?"

Ansh froze. Slowly, he straightened up and turned toward the voice. A young woman stood a few feet away, her eyes wide with anticipation. Behind her, a small crowd had begun to gather, their faces lit up with curiosity and excitement.

"I…" Ansh stammered, unsure of how to respond. His mind raced as he tried to process what was happening. For years, he had been invisible—a forgotten actor relegated to the shadows. Now, suddenly, people were looking at him with admiration, even awe.

"Yes, it's him!" someone in the crowd exclaimed. "It's Ravan! That scene where he took down the mob boss—unbelievable!"

Another voice chimed in, "I told you he'd blow up after this show! The guy deserves it after all those wasted years."

Ansh's son tugged at his hand, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Papa, why is everyone talking about you?"

Ansh knelt down to his son's level, his heart pounding. "I think they've seen a show I was in, beta," he said softly.

The small crowd grew larger as more shoppers recognized him. Some pulled out their phones to snap pictures, while others asked for autographs. One man, clearly a die-hard fan of the series, approached him with tears in his eyes.

"Sir," the man said, his voice trembling, "I just want to say thank you. Your performance in Ravan's Rampage was incredible. I've never seen anything like it in Bharat. You brought Ravan to life in a way I didn't think was possible."

Ansh was overwhelmed. For years, he had longed for recognition—not for fame or glory, but for his work to be appreciated. And now, it was finally happening. He swallowed the lump in his throat and managed a small smile.

"Thank you," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. "It means a lot to hear that."

The crowd's enthusiasm only grew. Shouts of admiration and requests for selfies filled the air. Ansh's son, wide-eyed and excited, whispered, "Papa, are you famous now?"

Ansh chuckled, pulling his son close. "Maybe, beta. Just maybe."

As the commotion continued, an employee from the supermarket approached, apologizing profusely for the disruption. "Sir, we're so sorry for the inconvenience," she said, glancing nervously at the growing crowd.

"It's okay," Ansh assured her. "I'll finish up quickly and head out."

But even as he left the store with his son, the crowd followed, cheering and calling out words of encouragement. Ansh waved politely, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.

By the time they reached home, his son was buzzing with excitement. "Papa, you're a hero! Everyone loves you!"

Ansh sat down on the couch, his thoughts racing. He had spent so long fighting against the odds, struggling to keep his dream alive in an industry that had turned its back on him. And now, with one role, everything had changed.

He picked up his phone and hesitated for a moment before dialing a familiar number. The call connected, and Suraj's voice came through on the other end.

"Ansh! How are you?" Suraj asked warmly.

Ansh took a deep breath. "Suraj, I… I don't know what to say. People are recognizing me. They're calling me Ravan. I just went to buy milk, and it turned into a scene from a movie."

Suraj laughed. "I told you this would happen, didn't I? Your performance was phenomenal, Ansh. You deserve every bit of this attention."

"I don't know how to handle it," Ansh admitted. "After everything that's happened… I never thought I'd get another chance."

"You earned this," Suraj said firmly. "You gave Ravan a soul. And now, people see you for the talent you are. Enjoy it, Ansh. This is just the beginning."

As the call ended, Ansh sat in silence for a moment, his son playing nearby. He felt a wave of gratitude wash over him—not just for the opportunity Suraj had given him, but for the resilience that had kept him going through the darkest times.

For the first time in years, Ansh allowed himself to dream again.