Two days.
That was all that remained.
Across the Eastern Federation, theatre chains had already begun placing enormous displays outside their entrances.
Golden images of Ayodhya rose over shopping districts.
Rama and Sita stood beneath flowering trees.
Lakshmana held his bow behind them.
Dasharatha’s tired but loving face appeared on another poster.
Vishwamitra stood against a forest darkened by demonic shadows.
Parashurama’s axe occupied nearly half of one dramatic promotional banner.
And in the background of the final theatrical poster—
Ravana’s silhouette waited.
Above everything were four words.
RAMAYANA — THE EXILE
The film was no longer merely an upcoming release.
For the last several weeks it had become an event.
Advance ticket sales had crossed expectations in nearly every major state of the Federation.
Schools were discussing whether to organize later educational screenings.
Religious institutions were reserving entire halls.
Families were planning to attend together.
Children who had never read a complete version of the epic were asking parents about Rama, Sita, Lakshmana and Hanuman.
Older citizens who had grown up hearing fragmented stories were arguing online about which scene they most wanted to see.
Chinese viewers were curious about why the Shiva Dhanush sequence had generated such discussion.
Korean audiences had become fascinated by the promise that Rama’s restraint would be treated as strength rather than weakness.
Japanese martial-arts forums were already discussing the brief Parashurama footage frame by frame.
Pakistan’s entertainment press had repeatedly highlighted the family relationships and the philosophical treatment of Ravana.
Even outside the Federation, international distributors were preparing subtitles and dubbed releases.
The first worldwide release of Ramayana would begin in forty-eight hours.
Which was why Shen Lihua had decided that Krishna urgently needed to appear on— a comedy show.
Krishna stared at the schedule.
Then at Shen.
Then at the schedule again.
“We are releasing perhaps the largest mythological production in Federation history.”
“Yes.”
“Two days from now.”
“Yes.”
“The entire cast is exhausted.”
“Yes.”
“Everyone is nervous.”
“Yes.”
“And your solution is Kapil Sharma?”
Shen nodded.
“Exactly.”
Krishna considered.
“That is surprisingly sensible.”
“I know.”
He looked farther down the schedule.
Then his eyebrow rose.
“And after that…”
“Happy Camp.”
Krishna stared.
“Both?”
“You complain when promotions are boring.”
“I also complain when they are tiring.”
“You complain professionally.”
Krishna placed one hand over his heart.
“I prefer ‘provide constructive feedback.'”
Shen gave him the expression of a woman who had heard that particular argument too many times.
“Be ready in twenty minutes.”
Krishna looked down at himself.
“I am ready.”
“You are wearing slippers.”
“Comfort is important before a worldwide release.”
“Twenty minutes.”
She walked away.
Krishna watched her leave.
Then called after her:
“History will remember how badly artists were treated during this production!”
Without turning, Shen answered:
“History will remember that your manager got you to the studio on time.”
Krishna sighed.
“Authoritarianism.”
Comedy Nights with Kapil
The studio audience was already roaring before the cast even appeared.
The set had been decorated specially for the Ramayana episode.
Not as a temple.
Not as a sacred imitation of Ayodhya.
Kapil had wisely chosen not to turn a comedy show into devotional theatre.
Instead, the familiar stage had simply been decorated with marigolds, warm lamps, floral arrangements and a large screen showing the official poster.
The atmosphere was celebratory.
Families filled the audience.
Children sat with parents.
Several elderly viewers had been specially invited.
Kapil Sharma entered to enormous applause.
He looked toward the camera.
“Namaskar!”
The audience responded.
Kapil smiled.
“Only two days remain before Ramayana releases.”
Applause immediately surged.
Kapil raised his hand.
“Please control yourselves.”
More laughter.
“You haven’t even seen the film yet.”
Someone shouted:
“Trailer dekh liya!”
Kapil turned toward the audience.
“Trailer dekha hai, film nahi!”
The audience laughed.
Kapil shook his head dramatically.
“This is exactly why producers have become powerful.”
“Earlier they had to make a good film.”
“Now they show one handsome man lifting a bow and everyone books tickets.”
The audience erupted.
Kapil looked toward the entrance.
“And speaking of that handsome man—”
Music began.
The cast appeared.
First Nitesh Tiwari.
Then Jackie Shroff.
Tabu.
Madhuri Dixit.
Shahid Kapoor.
Sushant Singh Rajput.
John Abraham.
Naseeruddin Shah.
Anupam Kher.
Mohit Raina.
Anushka Sen.
Vicky Kaushal.
Yash.
Dilraba.
And finally—
Krishna.
The applause became noticeably louder.
Krishna stopped halfway onto the stage and looked behind him as if expecting someone else.
Kapil immediately caught it.
“What happened?”
Krishna pointed toward the audience.
“They’re clearly cheering for Yash.”
Yash looked toward him.
“Of course.”
Kapil nodded seriously.
“Yes.
Absolutely.”
The crowd shouted even louder:
“KRISHNA!”
Krishna sighed.
“Very disappointing.”
Dilraba laughed.
Kapil came over and hugged him.
“Welcome.”
Krishna whispered loudly enough for the microphone:
“Thank you.
Please ask easy questions.”
Kapil looked offended.
“Do you think this is an examination?”
Krishna immediately looked toward the audience.
“See?”
The crowd laughed.
Kapil pointed.
“He started before sitting.”
The Seating Problem
The cast took their seats.
Because there were so many actors, the arrangement itself became comedy.
Kapil looked at John Abraham.
“Sir, could you move slightly?”
John shifted.
Kapil stared.
“Not enough.”
John shifted again.
Kapil looked toward Krishna.
“You cast him as Lakshmana?”
Krishna nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Lakshmana spent fourteen years protecting Rama.”
Kapil looked at John’s shoulders.
“With this body, fourteen years were unnecessary.
Ravana would see him once and return Sita himself.”
The audience exploded.
John laughed.
Krishna nodded thoughtfully.
“That would have shortened Part II.”
Nitesh turned toward him.
“Don’t give him ideas.”
Kapil pointed toward Sunny Deol’s empty chair at the edge.
“Where is Hanuman ji?”
Nitesh answered:
“Sunny sir is arriving later.”
Kapil immediately looked relieved.
“Good.”
“Why?”
“I was going to joke about Hanuman’s strength.”
Krishna nodded.
“Wise decision.”
Kapil stared.
“You’re supposed to support me.”
“I support survival.”
Kapil Meets Rama
Kapil finally sat opposite Krishna.
“So.”
Krishna looked at him.
“So.”
“You play Shri Rama.”
“Apparently.”
Kapil stared.
“What do you mean apparently?”
“I haven’t seen the final certificate.”
The audience laughed.
Kapil shook his head.
“I heard that throughout shooting, everyone said you become completely different when the camera starts.”
Dilraba immediately nodded.
“Yes.”
John did too.
Yash smiled.
Kapil looked around.
“Everybody agrees?”
Madhuri said:
“Unfortunately.”
Krishna turned.
“Unfortunately?”
She smiled.
“Because after the director says cut, the respectable Rama disappears.”
The audience laughed.
Kapil became curious.
“What appears?”
Dilraba answered immediately:
“Krishna.”
Krishna looked offended.
“That sounds insulting.”
Yash added:
“It is accurate.”
Kapil leaned forward.
“Give me an example.”
Dilraba thought.
“There was one very emotional scene.”
Krishna immediately said:
“No.”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
Kapil clapped.
“Tell us!”
Dilraba continued:
“We had just shot a scene where Rama and Sita were speaking very seriously.”
“Everyone was silent.”
“The lighting was beautiful.”
“Nitesh sir says cut.”
“And Krishna immediately looks at me and says—”
She imitated him:
“‘You blinked three times.
Rama’s wife should have stronger eyelid discipline.'”
The studio exploded.
Krishna defended himself.
“I was helping.”
“You were not helping.”
Kapil stared.
“Did you really say that?”
Krishna nodded.
“She improved.”
Dilraba grabbed the cushion beside her.
Krishna leaned away.
“You see?”
Kapil pointed.
“She is Sita.”
Krishna said:
“Exactly.”
Kapil:
“And you’re still provoking her?”
Krishna replied:
“Rama had fourteen years of exile.
I have promotions.”
The audience roared.
Kapil Questions the Myth
Once the laughter settled, Kapil held up a card.
“Today we’re doing something dangerous.”
Krishna looked suspicious.
“What?”
“We’re testing how well the cast actually knows the mythology.”
Several actors immediately protested.
Kapil laughed.
“This is what happens when actors pretend they researched.”
Naseeruddin Shah crossed his arms.
“You understand you’re sitting beside people who spent months studying this?”
Kapil swallowed theatrically.
“I meant younger actors.”
Sushant laughed.
Kapil quickly looked at Krishna.
“First question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Who was Shri Rama’s guru?”
Krishna answered:
“Which stage of life?”
Kapil froze.
The audience laughed.
Krishna continued:
“Vashishtha was royal guru and an important teacher in Ayodhya.
Vishwamitra later instructed Rama and Lakshmana in celestial weapons and took them with him.”
Kapil stared at the card.
“There was only one blank here.”
Krishna nodded sympathetically.
“The card lacks nuance.”
The studio roared.
Kapil looked toward Nitesh.
“How did you work with him?”
Nitesh answered immediately:
“With patience.”
Krishna nodded.
“Mostly mine.”
Nitesh laughed.
Kapil turned toward John.
“Who is Lakshmana’s wife?”
John answered:
“Urmila.”
Kapil looked disappointed.
“Too easy.”
Krishna whispered:
“Ask where she lived for fourteen years.”
Kapil immediately looked toward Krishna.
“Whose side are you on?”
“Knowledge.”
John pointed.
“Urmila remained in Ayodhya.”
Kapil sighed.
“Fine.”
Then he turned toward Dilraba.
“Mata Sita’s father?”
“King Janaka.”
“Mother?”
Dilraba answered.
Kapil nodded approvingly.
Krishna leaned toward him.
“You’re asking Sita about her own parents.”
Kapil looked at the audience.
“This man has become too confident after one historical film.”
Krishna corrected:
“It hasn’t released yet.”
“Even worse!”
Yash Gets His Question
Kapil turned dramatically toward Yash.
“Now Ravana.”
Yash smiled.
Kapil asked:
“How many heads?”
The audience shouted:
“TEN!”
Yash looked at Kapil.
“Are you asking me or them?”
Kapil pointed toward the audience.
“They were nervous for you.”
Yash laughed.
Kapil continued:
“Ten heads.”
“Yes.”
“Ten minds?”
Yash considered.
“In our interpretation, the ten heads aren’t treated only as a visual gimmick.”
Krishna nodded.
Yash continued:
“They represent multiplicity in Ravana—knowledge, desire, ego, brilliance, contradiction.”
Kapil looked impressed.
Then:
“So basically one family WhatsApp group inside one person.”
The audience exploded.
Even Yash bent forward laughing.
Krishna said:
“That is the most terrifying interpretation so far.”
Kapil looked proud.
“I contribute to mythology.”
Naseeruddin murmured:
“Please don’t.”
Kaikeyi Enters the Firing Line
Kapil looked toward Madhuri.
“Ma’am.”
Madhuri immediately said:
“No.”
The audience laughed.
“I haven’t asked.”
“I know where this is going.”
Kapil smiled.
“You play Kaikeyi.”
“Yes.”
“People loved you before the boons.”
“Good.”
“Then hated you.”
Madhuri sighed.
“Also expected.”
Kapil leaned closer.
“How does it feel knowing millions of people may become angry with you in two days?”
Madhuri smiled.
“I’ll blame Krishna.”
Krishna looked startled.
“Why me?”
“Because you insisted the audience should love Kaikeyi first.”
Kapil pointed at him.
“That’s true?”
Krishna nodded.
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Because betrayal by someone you never loved doesn’t hurt.”
The laughter quieted slightly.
Krishna continued:
“Kaikeyi has to feel like Rama’s mother.”
“Not stepmother.”
“Not future antagonist.”
“Mother.”
“Otherwise the exile becomes political.”
“If the audience loves her first, it becomes personal.”
Madhuri nodded.
Kapil looked toward the audience.
“See?
Every time I try comedy he starts teaching.”
Krishna smiled.
“You asked.”
Kapil:
“I regret it.”
Jackie Shroff and Dasharatha
Kapil turned toward Jackie.
“Jaggu dada.”
Jackie smiled.
“Bol, bhidu.”
The audience cheered.
Kapil asked:
“You played Dasharatha.”
“Yes.”
“Father of four sons.”
“Yes.”
“How difficult?”
Jackie looked toward Krishna.
“After meeting him?”
He pointed.
“Very.”
The audience laughed.
Krishna protested:
“I was an excellent son.”
Jackie replied:
“On screen.”
More laughter.
Kapil asked:
“What about off screen?”
Jackie leaned back.
“Off screen he keeps asking questions.”
Krishna nodded proudly.
“Curiosity.”
Jackie continued:
“Why Dasharatha looks at Rama like this.”
“Why he touches his shoulder.”
“Why he pauses.”
“Why he doesn’t say something.”
Then Jackie smiled.
“But that’s good.”
“He wanted father-son relation to feel real.”
Kapil looked toward Krishna.
“Do you call Jackie sir Pitashri after shooting?”
Krishna answered:
“Only when I need something.”
Jackie burst out laughing.
Kapil slapped his thigh.
“That is actually how sons behave!”
The Bow Question
Kapil brought out a fake lightweight bow.
The audience immediately reacted.
Krishna stared at it.
“No.”
Kapil smiled.
“What?”
“I know where this is going.”
“We want to test who can lift Shiva Dhanush.”
Nitesh laughed.
Vicky shook his head.
John folded his arms.
Kapil carried the fake bow toward Krishna.
“Come.”
Krishna remained seated.
“Rama already broke one.
We shouldn’t risk another.”
The audience laughed.
Kapil turned toward Yash.
“Ravana?”
Yash stood dramatically.
He grasped the prop.
Pretended to struggle.
The audience cheered.
He raised it halfway.
Then let it fall gently.
Kapil shouted:
“Exactly like film!”
Yash bowed.
Then John stood.
Kapil said:
“Lakshmana wasn’t in competition.”
John picked it up with one hand.
Kapil looked frightened.
“Put it down.”
John smiled.
Kapil took it back.
“These gym people ruin comedy.”
Then he turned toward Krishna.
“Now.”
Krishna sighed and stood.
He approached the prop bow.
Bowed his head dramatically.
“Mahadev, please forgive what is about to happen.”
The audience began laughing.
He touched it.
Then pretended it would not move.
Kapil stared.
“Rama?”
Krishna strained theatrically.
“Budget version is heavier.”
The studio exploded.
Nitesh covered his face.
Finally Krishna lifted it easily.
Kapil immediately shouted:
“Cut!
Don’t break federal property!”
Parashurama
Kapil looked at Vicky.
“Your entry after the bow breaking is apparently one of the highlights.”
Vicky nodded.
Kapil lowered his voice dramatically.
“‘Who broke my Gurudev’s bow?'”
The audience applauded.
Kapil turned to Krishna.
“Then Parashurama says fight me.”
“Yes.”
“And Rama says no.”
“Yes.”
Kapil looked confused.
“What kind of action film is this?”
Krishna smiled.
“The dangerous kind.”
“Hero refuses fight.”
“Because fighting is not always courage.”
Kapil nodded.
Then looked toward Vicky.
“And Lakshmana talks back?”
John smiled.
Vicky immediately said:
“Too much.”
John laughed.
Kapil asked:
“Did you feel like hitting him?”
Vicky pointed at John.
“Parashurama did.”
“Vicky also did.”
The audience laughed.
John said:
“He couldn’t.”
Vicky looked over.
“Would you like to test?”
John smiled.
Kapil immediately stood between them.
“No.”
“Ramayana releases in two days.”
“If one actor arrives with broken nose, producers will kill me.”
Krishna calmly added:
“Continue.”
Kapil stared.
“You’re Rama.”
Krishna shrugged.
“Different department.”
Sunny Deol Arrives
Suddenly music played.
The audience screamed.
Sunny Deol walked onto the stage.
Kapil immediately moved several steps backward.
Krishna stood and welcomed him.
Sunny hugged the cast.
Kapil looked toward the camera.
“Now everyone will behave.”
Sunny laughed.
Kapil said:
“Sir, you are Hanuman.”
“Yes.”
“How did Krishna convince you?”
Sunny looked toward Krishna.
“He said very little.”
Krishna nodded.
“Efficient.”
Sunny continued:
“He said Hanuman isn’t comic relief.”
“He isn’t only strength.”
“He is devotion with strength.”
“He said when Hanuman finally meets Rama, the audience should feel as though someone has found the person he had been searching for without knowing he was searching.”
The studio became warm and quiet.
Kapil smiled.
Sunny looked toward Krishna.
“Then he said, ‘Also please become stronger.'”
The entire audience burst out laughing.
Krishna protested:
“Hanuman carries a mountain!”
Kapil pointed at Sunny.
“He already looks capable!”
Krishna replied:
“We pursue accuracy.”
Kapil’s Audience Questions
The show moved into audience interaction.
A young boy raised his hand.
Kapil pointed.
“Yes?”
The boy looked at Krishna.
“Did Rama really never get angry?”
Krishna’s smile softened.
“No.”
“He got angry.”
The boy looked surprised.
Krishna continued:
“Being good doesn’t mean never feeling anger.”
“It means deciding what your anger is allowed to make you do.”
The boy thought about it.
Krishna smiled.
“Rama could be angry when someone was harmed.”
“He could be hurt.”
“He could grieve.”
“If we remove those emotions, we stop telling the story of a person.”
The boy nodded.
Kapil said:
“Excellent.”
Then pointed toward another child.
A girl asked Dilraba:
“Was Sita afraid in the forest?”
Dilraba answered gently:
“Sometimes.”
“Bravery doesn’t mean you never feel afraid.”
“It means fear doesn’t make every decision for you.”
Krishna looked toward her.
She noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You looked proud.”
“I am professionally supportive.”
She rolled her eyes.
The audience laughed.
An elderly woman raised her hand.
“Yash beta.”
Yash smiled.
“Ji.”
“Ravana was a devotee of Shiva?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he become bad?”
Yash glanced toward Krishna.
Krishna gestured for him to answer.
Yash thought carefully.
“Because devotion does not remove responsibility.”
The woman nodded.
Yash continued:
“A person can pray.”
“Study.”
“Become strong.”
“Achieve great things.”
“But if he begins believing his desires are more important than another person’s dignity, all that greatness can become dangerous.”
The elderly woman smiled.
“Good.”
Kapil looked toward Yash.
“You passed.”
Yash laughed.
Kapil’s Rapid Fire
Kapil announced:
“Now rapid fire.”
Krishna groaned.
“Finally the difficult section.”
Kapil pointed at Dilraba.
“Who takes longest to prepare?”
She immediately pointed at Krishna.
Krishna stared.
“False.”
Yash also pointed at Krishna.
John pointed at Krishna.
Madhuri pointed at Krishna.
Jackie pointed.
Half the cast joined.
Krishna looked betrayed.
Kapil laughed uncontrollably.
“Why?”
Dilraba answered:
“Not costume.”
“Then?”
“Questions.”
Nitesh explained:
“He comes prepared.”
“But before a scene, he still wants to discuss something.”
Krishna defended himself.
“Preparation prevents failure.”
Kapil looked at him.
“Next.”
“Who jokes most?”
Every hand pointed toward Krishna.
He slowly lowered his head.
Kapil shouted:
“Unanimous!”
Krishna replied:
“This cast has clearly formed an alliance.”
“Who forgets lines?”
Silence.
Everyone looked around.
Then Jackie raised a hand.
“Sometimes me.”
Krishna immediately said:
“But he improvises so well nobody knows.”
Jackie pointed toward him.
“See?
Good son.”
Kapil smiled.
“Who eats the most?”
Several people looked toward John.
John looked offended.
Krishna said:
“Protein isn’t food for him anymore.”
The audience exploded.
John stared.
“Should I mention your midnight snacks?”
Krishna became serious.
“We should respect privacy.”
“Who is most emotional?”
People slowly looked toward Madhuri.
She shook her head.
“You all saw exile scenes.”
Kapil smiled.
Krishna raised a hand.
“To be fair, half the crew cried.”
Kapil:
“You?”
Krishna paused.
Dilraba immediately looked at him.
Yash too.
Krishna answered:
“I was busy.”
Dilraba said:
“He cried once.”
Krishna turned.
“Defamation.”
The audience screamed.
Kapil leaned forward.
“When?”
Dilraba smiled.
“Dasharatha scene.”
Jackie became quiet.
Krishna sighed.
“I had something in my eye.”
Kapil:
“Emotion?”
Krishna:
“Dust.”
Nitesh calmly said:
“Indoor set.”
The audience collapsed into laughter.
Krishna stared at him.
“Director should protect actors.”
Nitesh smiled.
“I protect truth.”
The Warm Ending
Near the end, Kapil became unexpectedly sincere.
“Jokes apart.”
He looked toward the entire cast.
“People are excited.”
“But I think many are also emotional because these stories belong to childhood memories.”
He turned toward Krishna.
“What do you want people to feel when they leave the theatre?”
Krishna didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
“I don’t want them to leave saying only that the visual effects were impressive.”
Nitesh nodded.
Krishna continued:
“I want a child to ask his grandmother why Bharata kept Rama’s sandals.”
“I want someone who knows only Ravana as a villain to ask why a man so learned still fell.”
“I want people to argue about Kaikeyi before remembering she once loved Rama.”
“I want them to understand why Lakshmana follows his brother.”
“Why Sita chooses.”
“Why Dasharatha breaks.”
He smiled faintly.
“And if an elderly person walks out and thinks—”
“‘Yes.
This feels like the story I once heard from someone who loved me.'”
The studio became very quiet.
“Then I think we succeeded.”
Kapil nodded.
Then naturally destroyed the sentiment.
“And if the film fails?”
Krishna replied immediately:
“I’ll blame Nitesh sir.”
The studio exploded.
Nitesh stared.
Kapil shook Krishna’s hand.
“Now you’re ready for Bollywood.”
Krishna answered:
“I thought this was Federation cinema.”
Kapil sighed.
“End the episode.”
The Journey East
The cast barely had time to recover.
By the following morning, the principal promotional group was travelling again.
This time—
China.
Happy Camp.
Krishna had already appeared there previously during the Pyaar Kii Ye Ek Kahaani period.
Back then, the hosts had met a rising actor famous for Abhay Raichand.
Now they were receiving the man playing Rama in perhaps the Federation’s most ambitious mythology film.
When Krishna walked onto the familiar set, He Jiong opened his arms.
“Yichen!”
Krishna smiled genuinely.
“Elder He.”
They hugged.
He Jiong pulled back and looked at him.
“You have become difficult to invite.”
Krishna looked shocked.
“Me?”
“Your manager says your schedule is terrifying.”
Krishna turned toward Shen Lihua sitting offstage.
“See?
International criticism.”
Shen did not react.
The Happy Camp hosts laughed.
Dilraba followed.
Then Yash.
John.
Madhuri.
Vicky.
Mohit.
Nitesh.
Several other cast members joined depending on segments.
Unlike Comedy Nights, Happy Camp opened more gently.
Less immediate chaos.
More warmth.
He Jiong knew how to let conversation breathe.
“You Were Abhay Last Time”
After introductions, He Jiong looked toward Krishna.
“When you last came here, audiences across China were calling you Abhay.”
The screen showed an old clip.
Krishna in black.
Cold expression.
Ju Jingyi as Piya.
Kim Se-jeong laughing beside him.
The audience screamed.
Krishna stared at the footage.
“Please turn it off.”
He Jiong laughed.
“Why?”
“I was young.”
Dilraba stared at him.
“That was not long ago.”
“Emotionally, I have lived many lives.”
Yash muttered:
“All of them annoying.”
The audience laughed.
He Jiong smiled.
“Last time you were famous for not smiling on screen.”
“Now you’re playing Rama.”
He showed another image.
The contrast produced immediate cheers.
“Do you feel you’ve changed?”
Krishna thought.
“As an actor, yes.”
“As a person?”
He glanced toward Dilraba.
“Apparently not enough.”
She nodded.
“Correct.”
He Jiong laughed.
The Hosts Question Dilraba
One Happy Camp host turned toward Dilraba.
“You and Yichen have known each other a long time.”
Dilraba instantly became cautious.
Krishna smiled.
“This will be dangerous.”
The host continued:
“Was it difficult playing Sita opposite someone you know so well?”
Dilraba thought.
“At first, yes.”
“Why?”
“Because when you know someone personally, sometimes you anticipate them.”
She gestured toward Krishna.
“I know when he’s about to make a joke.”
“I know when he’s pretending to be serious.”
“I know when he’s planning something.”
Krishna looked offended.
“That last one is slander.”
Dilraba ignored him.
“But Rama didn’t feel like Krishna.”
The studio became quieter.
“Once the camera began, it became easier.”
“Because I wasn’t reacting to the person I knew.”
“I was reacting to Rama.”
He Jiong looked toward Krishna.
“That’s a large compliment.”
Krishna nodded.
“I will remind her later.”
Dilraba sighed.
“I knew I shouldn’t say anything nice.”
The Eye Game
Happy Camp prepared a game.
The host displayed close-up photographs showing only the actors’ eyes.
The cast had to identify whether the image was from—
Krishna as Abhay.
Krishna as Rama.
Krishna as Narayana.
The first appeared.
Cold.
Guarded.
Dilraba answered immediately:
“Abhay.”
Correct.
Second.
Soft.
Open.
Yash:
“Rama.”
Correct.
Third.
Still.
Almost impossible to read.
The audience quieted.
Mohit looked toward Krishna.
“Narayana.”
Correct.
The hosts stared at the three pictures side by side.
He Jiong shook his head.
“How?”
Krishna smiled.
“Lighting.”
The entire cast shouted:
“No!”
The audience laughed.
He Jiong looked delighted.
“Explain.”
Krishna considered.
“Eyes don’t change independently.”
“Thought changes.”
“If Abhay believes everyone approaching him may hurt him, his body prepares differently.”
“If Rama sees someone approaching, he asks what responsibility he has toward them.”
“Narayana…”
Krishna paused.
“…doesn’t need to prepare for anything.”
He Jiong stared.
“That is terrifyingly concise.”
Yash nodded.
“That’s why we hate asking him acting questions.”
Krishna looked wounded.
“You all benefit from my wisdom.”
John replied:
“We benefit more when you sleep.”
The Mythology Questions
He Jiong then explained:
“Many viewers in China know fragments of Ramayana but not the complete story.”
“So today we want to ask questions that some families watching may also have.”
The atmosphere shifted naturally from comedy to curiosity.
The first question:
“Why does Rama agree to exile when he did nothing wrong?”
Krishna answered carefully.
“Because from Rama’s perspective, the question isn’t simply whether he deserves exile.”
“It’s whether Dasharatha’s word should become false because honoring it suddenly hurts.”
He Jiong nodded.
Krishna continued:
“That doesn’t mean every person must blindly obey every promise made by an elder.”
“We should not reduce the story to that.”
“Rama’s situation belongs to his relationship, his responsibility as prince, his father’s oath and his own understanding of dharma.”
“He chooses to carry the cost.”
Dilraba added:
“And Sita chooses whether she will carry part of that life with him.”
One host smiled.
“That’s important.”
Dilraba nodded.
“Very.”
Another host asked Yash:
“Why is Ravana still respected for some qualities if he becomes the antagonist?”
Yash answered:
“Because acknowledging someone’s accomplishments does not excuse what they do wrong.”
Krishna nodded.
Yash continued:
“If we erase all Ravana’s greatness, then his fall becomes simple.”
“But if someone brilliant can still fall because desire becomes entitlement, then the warning becomes stronger.”
He Jiong smiled.
“That seems to be one of the film’s central themes.”
Krishna replied:
“Power does not erase accountability.”
The Sita Question
A female host turned toward Dilraba.
“Some people outside India mainly know Sita through her abduction.”
“How do you want audiences to see her?”
Dilraba became thoughtful.
“As someone who thinks.”
“Chooses.”
“Questions.”
“Loves.”
“And endures without becoming empty.”
She paused.
“I didn’t want suffering to become her personality.”
Krishna nodded.
Dilraba continued:
“Sita is joyful too.”
“She teases Rama.”
“She loves nature.”
“She has curiosity.”
“She can disagree.”
“She has a life before Ravana enters it.”
The host smiled.
“That makes the later pain greater.”
“Yes.”
Dilraba looked toward Krishna.
“That was something he and Nitesh sir emphasized repeatedly.”
Krishna said:
“If the audience only meets Sita as someone destined to suffer, then we’ve failed her.”
He Jiong Asks About Rama
Eventually He Jiong turned toward Krishna.
“I watched your Federal Entertainment interview.”
Krishna smiled.
“Was I good?”
Dilraba sighed.
He Jiong laughed.
“You said something interesting.”
“‘Sometimes the character chooses the actor.'”
Krishna’s expression softened.
“Yes.”
“Do you still feel that?”
“I do.”
He Jiong leaned closer.
“What exactly did Rama teach you?”
Krishna thought.
The studio became quiet.
Then he said:
“That restraint can be an active decision.”
One host nodded.
Krishna continued:
“I think people sometimes mistake restraint for simply not acting.”
“But if someone is incapable of violence, avoiding violence may not reveal much.”
“If someone is capable of great violence and still chooses dialogue when dialogue can solve the problem…”
“…that tells us something.”
He Jiong’s expression grew thoughtful.
Krishna continued:
“And the opposite matters too.”
“Restraint is not cowardice.”
“Rama doesn’t refuse every battle.”
“When Tadaka continues harming innocents, he acts.”
“When protection requires force, he doesn’t hide behind gentleness.”
“That balance interested me.”
He Jiong nodded.
“Strength with direction.”
Krishna smiled.
“Exactly.”
Yash Challenges Krishna
Yash suddenly leaned forward.
“Can I ask him something?”
He Jiong looked delighted.
“Please.”
Krishna became suspicious.
“No.”
Yash ignored him.
“You talk about Rama’s restraint constantly.”
“Yes.”
“How much restraint did you personally develop?”
The audience laughed immediately.
Krishna considered.
“Enormous amounts.”
Dilraba burst out laughing.
John looked away.
Yash stared.
“Examples?”
Krishna pointed toward Dilraba.
“I have survived her temper.”
Dilraba’s eyes widened.
The audience screamed.
She reached for a cushion.
Krishna immediately moved behind He Jiong.
“Elder He, protect your guest.”
He Jiong laughed.
“You provoked this.”
Krishna replied:
“Rama teaches us consequences.”
Yash nearly fell from his seat laughing.
A Game of Relationships
Happy Camp prepared another segment.
Each actor received paddles showing two names.
Questions appeared.
Who would survive longest in vanavas?
Nearly everyone chose John.
Krishna chose himself.
He Jiong asked:
“Why?”
“I have skills.”
John stared.
“You complained about mosquitoes during shooting.”
Krishna replied:
“That was research.”
The audience laughed.
Who would complain first?
Everyone pointed at Krishna.
Krishna stared at the betrayal.
Dilraba explained:
“He wouldn’t actually suffer first.”
“He would complain first.”
“There’s a difference.”
Krishna nodded.
“Excellent.
At least someone understands me.”
Who would make the best king?
Several chose Jackie.
Some chose Krishna.
Krishna chose Nitesh.
Everyone looked surprised.
He Jiong asked why.
Krishna replied:
“He managed this cast for months.”
“Anyone who survives that deserves a kingdom.”
Nitesh laughed.
Who would be most dangerous when angry?
Everyone looked at Vicky.
Then slowly— some turned toward Dilraba.
She stared.
Krishna immediately raised both hands.
“I voted Vicky.”
Dilraba narrowed her eyes.
“You hesitated.”
Krishna replied:
“Democracy is complicated.”
Mohit and Mahadev
He Jiong turned toward Mohit Raina.
“Your Mahadev appearance is brief in Part I but everyone who attended previews mentioned it.”
Mohit nodded.
“Yes.”
“How important was this opportunity to you?”
The atmosphere softened.
Mohit looked toward Krishna.
“Very.”
He paused.
“There was a time when I didn’t know whether I would ever get a role people remembered.”
Krishna became quiet.
Mohit continued:
“Then he asked me to audition.”
He Jiong looked toward Krishna.
“Why Mohit?”
Krishna answered simply:
“Because when he became still, I believed he could hold the frame without asking the audience to notice him.”
Mohit looked down.
Krishna continued:
“Mahadev doesn’t need to advertise power.”
“If the performance becomes too loud, you lose him.”
“Sometimes silence must feel larger than movement.”
He Jiong nodded.
Mohit smiled slightly.
“He said something similar at audition.”
Krishna looked over.
“I repeat good advice.”
Dilraba muttered:
“He repeats jokes too.”
The Fans’ Questions
Happy Camp had gathered questions from viewers across China.
One appeared on screen:
Does Krishna behave like Rama when he isn’t filming?
The audience laughed before anyone answered.
Dilraba:
“No.”
Yash:
“No.”
John:
“No.”
Mohit:
“Occasionally.”
Krishna looked grateful.
“Thank you.”
Mohit continued:
“When sleeping.”
Krishna stared.
“Even Mahadev has betrayed me.”
Another question:
Is Dilraba as patient as Sita?
Krishna raised his hand.
“No.”
Dilraba immediately turned.
He Jiong laughed.
“You answered before she did.”
Krishna nodded.
“Public service.”
Dilraba said:
“I am patient.”
Krishna:
“Compared to?”
She picked up the cushion again.
Krishna leaned away.
“Question answered.”
Another:
Does Yash stay serious between takes?
Yash shook his head.
Krishna said:
“Absolutely not.”
The host asked:
“What does he do?”
Krishna answered:
“He walks around dressed as Ravana discussing lunch.”
The audience laughed.
Yash nodded.
“That’s true.”
Krishna imitated a deep voice:
“‘Bring me the kingdoms of the three worlds…
and also less spicy dal.'”
Yash covered his face.
Dilraba was laughing too hard to speak.
He Jiong’s Quiet Question
Toward the final third of the episode, the games ended.
The lights softened.
He Jiong spoke more gently.
“Forty-eight hours.”
Krishna nodded.
“Less now.”
“How does everyone feel?”
The cast became quiet.
Madhuri answered first.
“Nervous.”
John nodded.
“Excited.”
Yash said:
“Curious.”
Dilraba:
“Terrified.”
The audience laughed softly.
He Jiong looked toward her.
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“We’ve lived with the film for so long.”
“After release, it no longer belongs only to us.”
That sentence changed the mood.
Nitesh nodded.
“That’s exactly it.”
He Jiong turned toward Krishna.
“And you?”
Krishna considered.
Then:
“Grateful.”
“Not nervous?”
“I am.”
Dilraba pointed.
“He admitted it.”
Krishna ignored her.
“But nervousness is natural.”
He looked toward the audience.
“For months, everyone working on this film could still change something.”
“A performance.”
“An edit.”
“A sound.”
“A visual effect.”
“A line.”
“Now that’s over.”
He smiled faintly.
“In two days, the audience becomes part of the story.”
He Jiong tilted his head.
“How?”
“They will decide what survives.”
The room quieted.
“A film can be expensive.”
“Beautiful.”
“Technically impressive.”
“But memory isn’t purchased with budget.”
“It happens when someone carries a scene home.”
He continued:
“If a child remembers Lakshmana protecting Rama…”
“If a daughter remembers Sita asking questions…”
“If a father understands Dasharatha differently…”
“If someone sees Ravana and thinks about how greatness can lose itself…”
“If somebody chooses restraint once because Rama made restraint look stronger than ego…”
Krishna paused.
“…then the film continues after the screen goes dark.”
He Jiong smiled.
“That’s what you’re hoping for?”
Krishna nodded.
“Yes.”
Dilraba’s Fear
He Jiong then looked toward Dilraba.
“What frightens you most about release?”
Dilraba thought.
“That people won’t accept me as Sita.”
The question was honest.
The studio became quiet.
She continued:
“There are people who have imagined Sita their entire lives.”
“I know I’m only an actress.”
“I know nobody can become her completely.”
“But…”
She hesitated.
Krishna looked toward her.
This time he did not immediately interrupt.
He let her finish.
“What if people see Dilraba instead of Sita?”
Silence.
Krishna finally spoke.
“They will.”
Dilraba looked at him.
He Jiong did too.
Krishna smiled gently.
“They know you’re Dilraba.”
“They’re not required to forget reality.”
“The question is whether, while the scene is playing, they care about Sita more than they care about recognizing you.”
Dilraba listened.
“You don’t have to disappear.”
“You have to make room.”
“For her?”
“For Sita.”
He nodded.
“And you did.”
Dilraba’s eyes softened.
Krishna added:
“So stop worrying.”
She smiled.
“That sounded almost kind.”
“Don’t spread rumors.”
The audience laughed warmly.
A Letter from an Elderly Viewer
Happy Camp had prepared one final surprise.
He Jiong held an envelope.
“This came from an elderly viewer in Shanghai.”
Krishna sat straighter.
He Jiong opened it.
The letter was from a seventy-four-year-old retired literature teacher named Madam Zhou.
She wrote that her grandfather had once told her fragments of Indian epics when she was a child because he had studied Federation cultural history.
Most of those memories had faded.
Then she saw the Ramayana trailer.
She recognized the bow.
She recognized the exile.
She remembered her grandfather explaining that Rama’s greatness came not simply because he could fight, but because he tried to govern himself before governing others.
She had already bought tickets for herself, her daughter and two grandchildren.
The final line read:
“I do not know whether your film will match the Rama my grandfather gave me.
But thank you for making my grandchildren ask me who Rama is.”
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Krishna lowered his eyes.
Dilraba looked emotional.
Yash leaned back quietly.
He Jiong folded the letter.
“What would you say to her?”
Krishna took a moment.
Then looked into the camera.
“Madam Zhou.”
His voice had lost every trace of performance.
“I don’t know whether our Rama will resemble the one your grandfather gave you either.”
“But I hope when you watch the film…”
“…you remember him.”
A pause.
“Not us.”
“Your grandfather.”
He smiled.
“And if your grandchildren ask you questions afterward, please answer them.”
“Because whatever we put on a screen can only begin a conversation.”
“The stories survive because families continue it.”
The studio stayed quiet.
Then applause began.
Not explosive.
Warm.
Long.
He Jiong nodded slowly.
“That was a good answer.”
Krishna smiled.
“I occasionally have them.”
Dilraba whispered:
“Don’t ruin it.”
He laughed.
Happy Camp’s Final Game
Naturally, the producers refused to let the episode end emotionally.
He Jiong smiled mischievously.
“One final game.”
Krishna immediately became suspicious.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“Experience.”
A curtain lifted.
Behind it— four enormous character cutouts.
Rama.
Sita.
Ravana.
Lakshmana.
The cast had to imitate their own promotional poses.
Yash performed Ravana first.
Perfect.
The audience screamed.
John copied Lakshmana.
Perfectly serious.
Dilraba performed Sita.
Elegant.
Then Krishna’s Rama pose appeared.
Calm.
Bow lowered.
One hand relaxed.
Eyes gentle.
Krishna stared at it.
He Jiong smiled.
“Go.”
Krishna stepped into position.
For one second—
Rama returned.
Shoulders settled.
Breath changed.
Eyes softened.
The audience went silent automatically.
He matched the image almost perfectly.
Then— without warning— he turned the bow sideways and pretended it was a guitar.
The entire studio exploded.
Dilraba covered her face.
Nitesh shouted:
“No!”
He Jiong collapsed laughing.
Yash leaned against John.
Krishna pretended to play passionately.
The hosts could barely continue.
Finally Dilraba ran over and pulled the fake bow from him.
“This is Shri Rama’s bow!”
Krishna replied:
“It’s a prop.”
“Respect the prop!”
“Mahadev already forgave me once.”
The audience was roaring.
He Jiong wiped tears from his eyes.
“End the show!”
After the Recording
The studio gradually emptied.
Cast members remained backstage eating fruit and drinking tea.
The atmosphere had changed noticeably.
Before the two programs— tension had been hanging around everyone.
Release.
Reviews.
Expectations.
Comparisons.
Faith.
Culture.
History.
Money.
Responsibility.
Two days.
Now— people were laughing.
John and Vicky were still arguing about whether Lakshmana could have lasted three rounds against Parashurama before Rama intervened.
Yash was showing Jackie Shroff the Ravana-head meme Kapil’s episode had already generated internally.
Madhuri and Dilraba were discussing clothes.
Mohit sat with Anushka and Nitesh.
Krishna stood near a window.
He Jiong approached.
“You needed today.”
Krishna looked at him.
“We did.”
He Jiong smiled.
“You especially.”
“Me?”
“You’ve been carrying everyone else’s nerves.”
Krishna became quiet.
He Jiong continued:
“You make jokes when people become tense.”
“You answer when someone struggles.”
“You shift attention when an actor looks uncomfortable.”
Krishna smiled faintly.
“Elder He has become observant.”
“I’ve hosted people for a long time.”
He looked toward the cast.
“You’re calm.”
“But calm people become tired too.”
Krishna leaned against the window.
“Maybe.”
He Jiong asked:
“Are you afraid?”
Krishna considered.
Then answered honestly.
“Yes.”
“Of failure?”
Krishna shook his head.
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
He looked toward the Ramayana poster hanging across the backstage corridor.
“That people may admire the movie…”
“…without loving the people inside it.”
He Jiong understood.
Krishna continued:
“If they only say the VFX are beautiful, we failed.”
“If they only say Rama looked divine, we failed.”
“If they only say Sita was beautiful, Ravana powerful, Lakshmana strong…”
He shook his head.
“…then we gave them posters.”
“Not characters.”
He Jiong smiled.
“From what I’ve seen…”
Krishna looked toward him.
“…I don’t think that’s your problem.”
Krishna smiled faintly.
“We’ll know soon.”
The Episodes Air
Comedy Nights aired first.
The response was immediate.
Clips spread everywhere.
John being accused of making Ravana surrender through physique.
Yash’s “family WhatsApp group” response.
Jackie calling Krishna a good son only on screen.
The fake Shiva Dhanush.
Krishna pretending it was too heavy.
Madhuri blaming him for making people love Kaikeyi.
The entire cast unanimously choosing Krishna as the person who joked most.
And most importantly— the warmth.
Viewers saw something publicity trailers had not shown.
They were not watching actors treating mythology casually.
They were watching people who had taken the work seriously enough that they were now comfortable laughing around it without laughing at it.
That distinction mattered.
One viewer wrote:
They respected Ramayana during filming.
Now they’re letting us see the family they became while making it.
Another:
Krishna as Rama: maryada.
Krishna outside filming: menace.
The comment received hundreds of thousands of likes.
Dilraba forwarded it to Krishna.
He replied:
Defamation spreads faster than truth.
She responded:
Truth won this time.
Then Happy Camp aired across China and subtitled versions spread throughout the Federation.
The eye-comparison segment went viral.
Abhay.
Rama.
Narayana.
Fans froze the pictures beside one another.
Acting students began analyzing them.
An especially popular post read:
Same face.
Three different expectations of the world.
Another clip spread rapidly.
Krishna telling Dilraba:
“You don’t have to disappear.
You have to make room for Sita.”
Actors shared it.
Directors shared it.
Fans praised how naturally he reassured her without reducing her concern.
But the largest reaction came from Madam Zhou’s letter.
The retired teacher herself was eventually identified by local media—not through intrusive reporting, but because her granddaughter proudly posted that her grandmother had cried watching Krishna answer.
Her granddaughter wrote:
Grandma says now we are all going to the first morning show.
She has started telling us Ramayana before we even watch the movie.
That post spread across the Federation.
Krishna saw it late at night.
He read it twice.
Then smiled.
Maybe that was already enough.
Vardhan Mansion
The Vardhan family watched portions of both programs.
Kavya laughed until she nearly fell from the sofa during the fake bow segment.
Arjun pointed toward the screen.
“He actually turned Rama’s bow into a guitar.”
Aditya stared.
“This is the person representing our family.”
Yuerou looked toward him.
“You were the one who approved his career.”
Aditya fell silent.
Ishani smiled.
Rudraveer watched the quieter Happy Camp interview instead.
He heard Krishna say:
“Memory isn’t purchased with budget.”
The old man’s eyes changed.
Again—
Ramchandra.
Civilization is not merely government.
It is memory.
Rudraveer closed his eyes briefly.
The resemblance was becoming impossible to ignore.
Not in face.
Not in profession.
In instinct.
Krishna still had no idea.
Perhaps that was why the words felt so real.
During Dilraba’s moment of uncertainty, Yuerou watched her son reassure her.
“You don’t have to disappear.”
“You have to make room for Sita.”
Yuerou smiled.
Kavya noticed.
“What?”
Yuerou shook her head.
“Nothing.”
Kavya leaned closer.
“You like her.”
Yuerou immediately looked at her.
“I like many people.”
“You especially like her.”
“I said nothing.”
Arjun suddenly became fascinated.
Ananya joined.
Aditya stood.
“I’m leaving.”
Kavya called after him:
“Father, what do you think?”
“I think release is in two days.”
“That wasn’t the question!”
He kept walking.
Yuerou tried to hide her smile.
One Day Remaining
Near midnight, Krishna returned to his hotel.
The promotional schedule was finally finished.
For the first time in several weeks— there were no interviews tomorrow.
No public appearances.
No promotional games.
No acting lessons.
No Marvel meetings.
No federal committees.
No cameras.
One day.
Then release.
Shen Lihua entered behind him.
“Tomorrow you rest.”
Krishna looked suspicious.
“Entirely?”
“Entirely.”
“No secret interview?”
“No.”
“No magazine photographs?”
“No.”
“No cultural symposium?”
“No.”
“No Kapil hiding inside the closet?”
Shen stared.
“Go to sleep.”
Krishna smiled.
She turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Krishna.”
“Hm?”
“Nervous?”
He looked through the hotel window.
The city below was filled with lights.
Across one enormous building was a digital advertisement.
Rama and Sita stood beneath a forest sky.
The title appeared beneath them.
WORLDWIDE RELEASE — TOMORROW MIDNIGHT
Krishna watched.
Then smiled.
“A little.”
Shen nodded.
“Good.”
He looked over.
“Good?”
“It means you still care.”
Then she left.
Krishna remained alone.
His phone was unusually quiet.
A few messages waited.
Dilraba:
My parents have tickets.
I may disappear tomorrow.
Yash:
If people hate Ravana, I blame you.
John:
Kapil clip has 8 million views.
I still think Lakshmana wins against Parashurama.
Vicky:
Tell John he’s delusional.
Mohit:
My mother watched Happy Camp.
She cried again.
Robert Downey Jr.:
Saw you playing guitar with Rama’s bow.
Very dignified.
Marvel is reconsidering everything.
Krishna smiled and replied:
Jealous that Aureon gets better costumes?
Robert:
I have armor worth billions.
Krishna:
And no peacock feather.
A pause.
Robert:
I hate you.
Krishna laughed softly.
Then another message arrived.
From his mother.
No long speech.
No advice.
Only:
Eat properly tomorrow.
Krishna smiled.
He typed:
Yes, Mother.
Immediately:
Don’t just say yes.
Actually eat.
He stared at the screen.
Some forces in creation could not be opposed.
Mothers were among them.
Krishna put down the phone.
Then walked toward the window again.
Two days ago— millions were waiting.
Now— only one remained.
For months he had carried Shri Rama inside performance.
Dilraba had carried Sita.
Yash had carried Ravana.
John had carried Lakshmana.
Jackie had carried Dasharatha.
Madhuri had carried Kaikeyi.
Shahid had carried Bharata.
Sushant had carried Shatrughna.
Naseeruddin had carried Vishwamitra.
Vicky had carried Parashurama.
Mohit had carried Mahadev.
Anushka had carried Parvati.
And hundreds of people whose names would never appear on posters had carried everything around them.
Sets.
Costumes.
Weapons.
Research.
Music.
Language.
Lighting.
Rain.
Forests.
Ayodhya.
Mithila.
The cosmic ocean.
Every frame had required someone.
Tomorrow— none of that effort would belong solely to them anymore.
It would belong to audiences.
To children.
To grandparents.
To skeptics.
To believers.
To people who knew every episode.
To people meeting Rama for the first time.
Krishna stared at the poster across the city.
Then remembered Madam Zhou’s letter.
Thank you for making my grandchildren ask me who Rama is.
His expression softened.
Perhaps that was the answer.
The film did not need to replace anyone’s Ramayana.
It only needed to open a door.
Krishna whispered:
“Now it’s your turn, Prabhu.”
The golden image of Rama remained above the sleeping city.
And across the world— the countdown reached its final day.