Bollywood Dreams Part 1

Dear Readers,
I am sorry that I have been busy lately and wasnt able to blog much. I have been working on a longer story this time and hope that you would like it. I am posting Part 1 today. Keep an eye for part 2 till then.

It was a cold winter morning in the valley with new spells of incessant rains and sleet but the brave dared to come out in the open to carry out their business as usual. Mir Ahmad Dar, a young 19 year old boy sat besides his father drinking his morning tea at their shop on the Lal Chowk in Srinagar. He just passed out from school with bare minimum qualifications and despite all his efforts could not secure a seat in the Sher-e-Kashmir University. His father then asked him to support him in his Pashmina Shawl business which was lately blooming due to the rising demand in the export market. Since Jamal Ahmad Dar, his father did not have any other son to support him and Srinagar like any other city was becoming expensive to live in day by day. Jamal thought that perhaps it would be best for Mir to enter and share some responsibility. Mir, like any other teenager was least interested in the types of wool or the number of footfalls they had at their shop. His dreams revolved around the silver screen, he aspired to be a model and an actor someday. He had the looks, the height, but was thousands of miles away from any opportunity. Since 2004, every Eid, he would save his money he got from relatives for getting a portfolio done. He saved five thousand till the fall of 2008 and then planned to visit Gulmarg Studios, the biggest photo studio in the entire valley to get his portfolio done.
One fine Friday afternoon after the namaaz, he took off to the neighborhood barber to get a haircut and then went straight to get his portfolio done. He planned to meet some local producers during his next trip to Chandigarh to send off their shawl consignments and give some auditions there. After three trips and no calls for auditions, he became frustrated and asked his mother to lend him some money, so that he could go to Delhi, as he turned out of the room, he saw his father overhearing them. Jamal was furious, his only son wanted to go away into the world of glamour. “Are you mad, do you know how many boys like you go there and spend their entire spending in achieving nothing. Your sisters are now of marriageable age, you should learn to share some responsibility. If you talked about going to Delhi ever again, I can assure you that you will spend the next December outside this house.”
That night Mir was restless, it was certain that his father did not want him to go and become a model. He wanted him to sell shawls sitting in a small shop all his life just like he did all his life. “Why should a son do what his father did for his lifetime”, he thought but then he also understood the responsibility of his family and his three sisters. One day a few weeks later his friends told him about an audition to be held in Delhi for some new fashion show. He thought it was his last chance to escape the life of selling shawls to petty tourists. But he did not have any money with him, then his eyes fell upon his gold ring that his grandmother gifted him last Eid. He thought this would be the only way he could reach out to his dreams. He went to the pawnshop that evening and got some five thousand rupees for the ring. He planned to move out at the break of dawn the next day and catch the morning bus to Jammu. He left a small note by his father’s bed before leaving with his portfolio and bag full of clothes.
Next day he boarded the morning bus to Jammu at six. Meanwhile his father woke up that day and found the note that said”Abbaajaan, I am sorry that I am leaving like this, but I hope one day I return back to you with my dreams fulfilled. I hope you forgive me - Mir”. His mother broke into tears after reading the note but his father kept his calm as he went for his daily namaaz. “May the divine one give my boy what he wants”, he murmured as he finished his prayers.
As the bus landed in Jammu, Mir jumped out with his bag to catch the next train for Delhi. He was already late and wanted to secure a seat in the general compartment which is usually full of travelers to the local Hindu shrine. Some how he managed to get hold of a birth which he had to share with an old man. He was an anxious young man who couldn’t sleep due to the restless dreams that haunted his mind and soul. Next evening he was in Delhi, sitting besides the Jama Masjid market eating kebabs at a roadside stall. The audition was next morning, his friend Ahmad worked at the local publisher as a binder and he decided to spend the night at his room in Daryaganj.
Next morning he got ready in his best clothes and boarded the bus for the studio in suburban NOIDA where the audition was being done. But seeing the long line at the studio for the audition he gota bit nervous. His nervousness increased with each passing moment and by the time his turn came, he was all wet with his sweat. As he was asked to walk down the ramp, he fumbled. The director asked him to move and give way for the next aspirant. “This is it”, he thought. “All this for a two minute disaster, how will I show my face to Abba and Ammi”, he asked himself. As he walked out of the studio, he was stopped by what looked like an old production house relic. The man was about fifty but looked much older with his grey hair and moustache. “Son, if you want to make it big, it is better if you try the audition at this place.”, he said as he handed him a small visiting card.
“45-B Santa Cruz, Bombay”, he murmured as he read the card, “but …. But this place is in Bombay, not here, how am I supposed to get there?” he asked. “That’s for you to decide.” the old man said as he moved out of the studio. “Should I go there or not, but if I don’t, then my dreams would end forever and I would be back to the lifestyle my father wanted me to live.”, he thought. “Lets give it a shot”, he decided and moved to the railway station where he boarded the Janta Express to land in Bombay the next evening. The following day he went to the place mentioned on the card and found a small agency board outside the building. He went inside to find the same grey haired man and two others sitting and discussing something inside a glass cabin. He was greeted by the receptionist who asked him to sit down and wait for his turn for the audition.
Half an hour later he was inside the cabin and was asked by the photographer for his portfolio. He was told that they had a small assignment for him for some company calendar. Anxious Mir readily accepted without even listening further. He was told to come a day later with his luggage as they would be going to shoot on a location. “Sir, where would we be going and how long will be the shoot?”, he asked the grey haired man who introduced himself as Sunil. “Ohh, it would be around the weekend and you would return by next Tuesday.”he replied. “But where are we going?”, Mir asked again. “Shillong” he replied.

A Night at Marine Drive !!!

It was a usual summer night in Bombay, the moon was shining bright in a cloudless sky, the Arabian sea was calm with a few waves coming in to the shore. There was an unusual silence that night, unusual as Bombay was called the city that never sleeps. As I crossed suburban stations and went towards the city, I remembered the last encounter with the city of dreams.

April 2007: It was another summer I spent away from home, this time it was Bombay. I never realized that my entire life would be spent moving around the country. It was 10 PM and I was standing at the bus stand in Pune to board the Bombay Pune Expressway night service. I planned to reach the city by midnight to catch up with some friends who were reaching the city that evening. So I stood there staring at the ticket booth as if prolonged staring will make the window rise up and make a magical hand issue a ticket.

Suddenly it started to rain and I cursed my luck as I ran to the shelter nearby overlooking the highway. Now I was drenched, hungry and waiting for a bus with no sight of the bus. Few other passengers were also standing there but I guess I was the odd one out. Meanwhile an announcement was made at the depot that the bus will be reaching two hours late as it had some engine problems while coming to Pune. "I am going to spend my night at a bus stand", I said to myself. Meanwhile as the rain died down I looked for something to eat, saw a Vadapav stand nearby and went ahead for some grub.

I ordered two Vadapavs to be packed for the night as I went to fetch a magazine in the adjacent stall. To my surprise it was Priyanka, the girl from the party I attended last night at Razdan's. I went ahead and said "Hi !, remember me?". "Hey, you are Akshay, from the party yesterday, right?".
I nodded as I sighed that she remebered me. "So, what are you doing at a bus stand half drenched in the middle of the night?", she said. "I am going to Bombay to meet some friends, who are reaching there by midnight."I said. "Hey why dont you come with me, I am going to Bombay too, perhaps I can drive you off.", she said. I couldnt have thanked god more that day. I was saved from spending the night at the bus stand eating vadapavs and reading India Today.

So, we started off the journey in her black Santro towards Bombay. "So, what are you doing in Pune?", she said. I told her that I was an intern at TIFR Bombay and came to attend the party a friend threw on his birthday. Now I was going back to meet some classmates and then rejoin my work. "But, you live in Pune na, so why are you going to Bombay?", I asked. "I move between Bombay and Pune for work, I am a news correspondent with The Times group.", she said. "I am to cover a page three party in Juhu and I am running late.", she added.

Yesterday night, I was at a party a senior from college threw on his birthday and I was introduced to Priyanka there. But it was nothing beyond the casual exchange of "Hi" that took place then. Now we were really talking as she drove on the expressway. "For a girl you drive pretty well, all girls I know hit something or the other every other mile", I said. "Well you dont know many girls then.", she commented. "No, you are not every other girl" I said as I gave a fiendish grin. She turned on the radio as Elvis jumped around with his guitar singing heartbreak hotel. "I like your choice of music, not many people like jazz", I said. "Well as you said I am not like every other girl", she smiled back.

Now I was shocked, never had I seen such a swift response to an otherwise harmless pickup line. Anyways nothing serious, we chatted along as rain drops started hitting the windshield. "We can change on the wheels after the stopover at Khandala, you can take rest for your new report then.", I said. She smiled back as the speed slowed down due to lower visibility on the road. After an hour and a half we reached Khandala, stopped for a refill and coffee. As we picked up a packet of chips, I took over the wheel and started the engine.

We started off and were back to the chat again, discussing random stuff. As i turned the volume up on an old song on the radio, I started to hum along and did not realize when I started to sing.
"You don't sing that bad, infact you sing really nice", she chuckled. It was more than a complement for me as I asked her to join the song. As she got lost in her voice, I switched off the radio. She stopped suddenly shying away her face as I smiled. "Why did you do that, I sing very bad, it's just because you asked me to join did I sing.", she complained. "So what does your girlfriend do?", she enquired. "I will let you know when I get one." I replied.

Meanwhile my phone rang and I got another shock, my friends' train was running tweleve hours late and they would not reach before five. Since I had to meet them, so I would not be able to go home either, I thought. "I will get down at Churchgate, as I took the turn to the city across the bridge." I told Priyanka. "You are already early for the rendez vous, so why dont you wait for another hour at Juhu while I finish my story and then I will drop you at Churchgate?" She asked, and I nodded. "You can take a walk across the beach as the hotel is just by the beach" She said and I smiled.

"Well, here we are madam, Bombay" I said as the sign above the road welcomed us in Marathi.
In the next twenty minutes, I zipped passed the city's busy roads which are usually packed with cars as I drove in to the Marriot. "I will be back in an hour"she said as she took her bag, "I will be in the coffee shop, meet me there" I replied. I dont know when the one hour passed by as I sipped a Mocha watching late nite boxing at the all night cafe.

"Hi, sorry to keep you waiting, but you know na...", I shhed her as I asked her to sit down and ordered a coffee for her. "Lets take the coffee out to the porch, the breeze is really nice", she asked and we went out on the open sea face. "You know how sometimes the sea breeze reminds me of my childhood when I used to sit by the sea all evening and eat ice candy." She said in a nostalgic tone. "Lets relive those days then", I replied and took her hand as we rushed to the car. "Where are we going", she asked, "nowhere" I replied as I took the western express and then moved towards Churchgate station."Ohh, I forgot you have a meeting with your friends, but its at 5 AM, its only 2 now", she said, "I know", I said. Instead of turning to the station I parked the car at the 24 hour pizzeria opened last month. "I am very hungry, you want something?" I asked. "get me a couple of slices and a coke", she replied. I came back with a large pizza and two cans of coke and asked her to come out. We sat on the boardwalk facing the seas as we munched down the pizza. During those two hours we chatted as we were long lost friends sitting across the table for lunch not realizing it was the wee hours of the night. Fortuately that night, no policeman came across to ask us what we were doing there. It was 4 AM, both of us were feeling sleepy but as I had one more hour to go, we sat there on the bench facing the sea. I didnt realize when we fell asleep, I was woken up by the phone ring and I realized it was 530 in the morning and I was late, but then I realized that Priyanka was holding my arm as she slept on my shoulder.

Though this story is purly a figment of my imagination, it has a few elements of reality. Dedicated to the city that never sleeps- Bombay. I miss the days I spent at TIFR during the summer of 2007.