Scenes of rock climbing were shot without a dupe, Madhu felt like a spider hanging from the ropes. She recalled her fond childhood ambition to work in a circus, wanting to jump from the ropes to be caught in a net, that strange desire to grow wings while falling, and escape the net. To flout the gravity of the earth, to hold on to the hands of angels, be a speck in the milky way. Somehow she just could not summon anxiety when AD saved her, to her it was funny. She was too young to fear death, too sad to really love life. A savior had to make her love him and then she may love herself and life in that order.
Rescue operations were holy, she romanticized, ambulance driver, fireman, lifeguard on the beach, parachute on the flight, but she would not be a passive recipient of generosity, she knew in death like in life she was her worst enemy. She did not want to be saved by anybody else and carry a cross of gratitude. AD held her in his arms like a gentle lover, the passivity of her role to accept it like a grateful flower, was unacceptable to the woman inside so the hysterical incongruous laughter ensued when she should have shown mortal fear.
Sirish was exasperated, they were shooting at an altitude, every person in the frame was doing his bit, Madhu was unprofessional to a fault, embarrassing with her imbecile laughter, and the shot remained grossly imperfect. Saving her could not be done perfectly, on or off the screen, her role was to save, not be saved. She would laugh while she died, enjoying death more than life, making the savior role look ludicrous. She could not see others die, it terrified her. Like a flower which tells the day please don’t fade, the reality of her own end was not even a remote possibility it was the relativity to another that defined her, she simply could not exist for herself.