Sakthivel let his bioscope lean against the banana tree tied to the wedding hall's gate as he shoved in a fat roll of betel nuts and dried areca nuts wrapped in two large betel leaves. He leaned against the wall by the bioscope and looked on longingly at the sign by the wedding hall's entrance. 

How I wish the kids of today take interest in this? Sakthivel let out a sigh, filling the air with the scent from his roll. He closed his eyes and thought of the good old days. How the children of those days pleaded with us for one more reel? And today, there are no takers. The wrath of time. Sakthivel paused chewing to take in the aroma of food wafting from the kitchen. If I were to stand outside a wedding hall back then, I would be richer than the groom.

Hmm! The aroma of food. It was yet another day when Sakthivel sought answers to questions that he knew would never be answered. Sakthivel continued the legacy of his father and grandfather who were celebrity touring bioscope-men. Children would throng the venue they chose for the day to get an up close and personal movie experience. It would only be a few reels if the children were short of money. 'Poor kids. Something is always better than disappointment,' his father would tell him in defense of the children. 

Much like the trade, his father's philosophy stuck on to Sakthivel's life, reducing it to a string of many somethings. His wife gave up on her pleas that he must find work in a movie theater or become a security guard and ended up working as a maid to make ends meet. Thankfully they had none to feed or fear for and so, theirs had become a fairly stable life - due to contentment or despondence - no one knows. 

"Bioscope!" A booming voice broke Sakthivel's trance. He instinctively let his folded waistcloth down to his ankles and bowed. In front of him stood an elderly man of wealthy countenance. 

"How much for a show?" the elderly man said. 

"Ten rupees, sir," Sakthivel said, wondering whether he should've said twenty after his proposal of ten didn't seem to ruffle the man.

"Okay. Come to the foyer with your bioscope. But stand away from the entrance. I will pay you five hundred rupees for the next three hours. What do you say? You can also eat and take some food home after the guests are gone." 

Sakthivel went into a tizzy. Even if he walked miles on end, he wouldn't be able to make more than a hundred a day and so the prospect of five hundred rupees to entertain the wedding guests seemed like a godsend bonanza. 

"Yes sir," he nodded gleefully and parked himself at a safe spot. Soon, the old man returned with a posse of kids, possibly his grandchildren. 

"Grandpa," one of them said, frowning at the sight of the bioscope. "This?"

"Yes. Why?" the old man laughed aloud. "Disappointed?"

"Yeah! You said this would be a unique experience. And this.. this.."

"Bioscope..." the old man interjected.

"Bioscope... is a relic."

"It is," the old man said. "Back in the days we longed for the touring bioscope man and this relic. You kids won't know its value. Watching a movie today is no big deal."

"Yeah. We have Prime, Netflix and all. Who needs a bioscope? Have you ever been to an IMAX or a 3D screen at least?" the kid was now taunting both old men.

"What is 3D?" Sakthivel said, unable to contain his excitement. 

"Hmmm." The kid took a pause and said, "In a 3D movie, the movie isn't just on the screen. The film and characters come to you. Near you. And you can see them up close." Sakthivel bared his teeth and laughed heartily at this.

A moment later, he stood with his eyebrows furrowed, wondering why the children and the old man laughed uncontrollably after he said, "but little sir, isn't it the case with the bioscope too?"