Already thinking about the moment he could pull her close again and keep her there.
Chapter 29
The examination hall echoed with silence.
Divya stood at the podium, her thesis bound in formal navy blue lying open before her. Two years of work on authentic documentary storytelling spread across nearly two hundred pages.
She'd prepared for this moment. Rehearsed responses. Memorized key passages until they flowed without hesitation. The confidence that had carried her through the presentation remained steady as she concluded.
"Documentary filmmaking at its purest isn't about imposing narrative. It's about creating space for truth to reveal itself naturally." She met the eyes of each committee member, her voice clear. "Thank you."
Three faces looked back at her from the long examination table. Mrs. Menon nodded with the slightest smile. The department head maintained his typical neutral expression. And then Professor Kashyap, the external examiner, regarded her with a cool assessment, pen tapping against his notepad.
"Well presented, Ms. Mathur," Mrs. Menon said, beginning the questioning. "You've made some interesting connections between traditional documentary methods and social media. Can you explain how you think these will evolve in the next decade?"
Divya felt ready. This was familiar ground. "The boundary between professional and amateur documentation is fading. We're seeing a fusion. Traditional filmmakers are adopting the immediacy of social media while maintaining their storytelling craft."
Mrs. Menon asked two more questions that built on her answers. The department head inquired about research methods and case study selection. Standard questions, professionally framed. Divya responded smoothly, navigating the familiar rhythm she'd practiced.
Then Professor Kashyap straightened in his chair.
"Your framework is well constructed," he said, adjusting his glasses. "However, your conclusions parallel Banerjee's 2018 work rather closely. Something you've only briefly acknowledged."
The comment felt fair. Criticism was part of the process. She nodded. "I see Banerjee's influence differently, particularly regarding subject ethics. My approach builds on his foundation but diverges on..."
"Yes, yes," Kashyap waved his hand dismissively, cutting her off. "Let's move to your fieldwork."
Something in his tone shifted. The temperature in the room dropped.
"Your research included access to professional film sets." He flipped through her thesis, pages rustling with unnecessary force. "Quite unusual access for a typical MA student." His eyes lifted, pinning her with unmistakable meaning. "Though I suppose being Mrs. Vikram Khanna opens certain doors."
The air stilled. Mrs. Menon's posture stiffened. The department head's gaze shifted sharply to Kashyap. Students watching from the back froze.
"Sir," Divya kept her voice level, "my research and fieldwork began well before my personal circumstances changed. The initial interviews and observations were conducted during my internship at..."
"Yes, your internship." He cut her off again, flipping back through pages. "Which led to employment, which rather conveniently led to marriage." He glanced at his watch. "Quite the progression."
Divya's fingers pressed against the podium edge. "My personal life has no bearing on the academic merit of my work."
"Doesn't it?" Kashyap raised his eyebrows as if surprised. He closed her thesis, then reopened it to the methodology section. "Your entire argument centers on authentic storytelling, yet you haven't addressed how your position and connections might influence what you observe and how you interpret it."
"Professor," Mrs. Menon interjected, warning in her voice, "we should focus on academic content, not personal circumstances."
Kashyap dismissed her with a quick glance. "Thisisacademic content, Mrs. Menon. Researcher positionality affects methodology." His attention returned to Divya, eyes cold behind his glasses. "What we have here is, frankly, opportunism dressed in academic language."
The accusation hung in the air. Divya's knuckles turned white against the wood.
"My research stands on its own merit," she said, each word measured despite the heat rising to her face. "The methodological approach was established long before..."
"Let's be honest, Ms. Mathur. Or should I say, Mrs. Khanna?" Kashyap continued, speaking over her as if she hadn't spoken at all. "This degree is merely decoration, isn't it? A credential to justify your rather meteoric social climb."
Silence dropped like a stone. Complete, suffocating silence.
Mrs. Menon's chair scraped loudly as she straightened. "Professor Kashyap, this is entirely inappropriate and irrelevant to evaluating the candidate's work."
"I disagree." He didn't raise his voice. The quiet disdain carried perfectly through the stillness. "When assessing research on authentic storytelling, the researcher's own authenticity is absolutely relevant."
Divya stood frozen. The room tilted slightly, her vision narrowing to the navy blue thesis in Kashyap's hands. Two years of work. Hundreds of hours. Countless late nights, all reduced to an accessory in his narrative of her life.
