Bishu yawned. “Terrible. Just terrible. You need a script, my friend.”
Then Bishu had his big idea. “Let’s make a film. The Tragic Ghost of Mistry Lane . You star. I direct. We’ll submit it to the Kolkata International Film Festival.” Bangla Movie Sriman Bhootnath
“He’s going to salt me like a pretzel!” Bhootnath cried. Bishu yawned
“You don’t want to scare people,” Bishu said. “You want to be seen.” You need a script, my friend
“Ghosts aren't real,” Bishu announced to his only friend, a cynical journalist named Mithu. “And even if they are, I’ll make a documentary about it and win a National Award.”
Bishu set up four projectors around the mansion, synced to his laptop. As Guruji began chanting fake Sanskrit, Bishu pressed play.
Bhootnath blinked. “I… I am a Class-3 Haunt, certified by the Bhooter Lok. I am supposed to scare you.”