Reaching the first platform, she again face hopped. She was about to call Sheetal from a nearby PCO when she noticed a guy—clean shaven, wearing shades, and with fluffy hair—gaping at her from a corner. She looked at him. It encouraged him to come forward.
‘Reva Gupta?’
‘Amit Garg?’
‘Yes, how are you?’
‘Good.’
Reva was pleased to see he had used the time since they last met to work on his nerdy-psycho thing. By the looks of it.
‘Let’s go,’ he said trying to get her suitcase.
‘No, it’s okay.’ Reva intentionally loosened her grip on the suitcase for Amit to snatch it easily.
‘Sheetal said you have finalized the rent.’
‘Yes, I have. It’s six and a half thousand a month. But—’
‘But?’
The explanation happened inside an autorickshaw. Amit had arranged a one-room-kitchen flat for Reva through a dealer who had promised him the room from the fourth Friday of the month. But a day before, the dealer had told Amit the room would be available from Sunday instead of Friday since the owner has stationed some of his relatives there owing to some medical emergency.
‘Then where will I stay?’
‘If you don’t mind, you can stay with me.’
So the psycho has become a super psycho, Reva thought, and said, ‘I’m sure Mumbai has hotels.’
‘Don’t get me wrong. I know you are from Delhi and all that, but a big city is a big city.’
‘Which means?’
‘Girls are never safe, especially one as beautiful as you.’
And the nerd has turned into a subtle flirt, Reva concluded.
‘Moreover, I stay with three guys, not alone.’
‘Three guys? And you want me to stay with you people?’
‘I have already had a talk with them. We have a twobedroom flat. We shall give you your own room. You can even lock your room for the three days of your stay if you want to. Nobody will disturb you.’
There was a genuine concern in his voice which Reva couldn’t sever herself from.
‘I want to check out the place first.’
Amit confirmed with a thumbs-up.
If this apartment was a person, Reva wondered standing right outside it, it needed a birth-control pill. It looked fucked up from all sides. There was not even a security guard.
Inside, she was surprised to see an elevator. As Amit closed the elevator door, he pressed on the seventh floor button.
‘Top floor is always better,’ she quipped.
‘We stay on the second. The elevator stops only on the top floor. We’ll climb down.’
Reva gave him a what-the-fuck gape.
The flat was a typical bachelor pad with everything lying scattered everywhere except in the bedroom they had vacated for her. It was neatly done. Amit asked her to settle in, after which he left for work. After a prolonged siesta, she woke up feeling hungry. While searching for food in the kitchen, she heard the main door being unlocked. She rushed there.
Vishal stared at her for a moment, looked around the room as if checking if it was the same one he lived in, and then recollecting something smiled awkwardly. ‘Oh yes, Amit did tell us about you. This shooting and all is taking a toll on me. Reva Gupta, right? I am the second flatmate here.’ Vishal entered the flat.
‘Yes,’ said Reva smiling faintly and said, ‘By the way, which shooting is it?’ She wanted to churn out more.
‘An ad film. I assist Shubash Anand.’
Reva’s mind raced. Shubash Anand had made three films till date. Two flops and one hit. His latest one was supposed to be an ensemble casting.
‘Great. I was wondering if there’s a good place to eat. I am so hungry, I can almost eat a horse now.’
‘Tell me about it. If you give me two more minutes to freshen up, then I can prepare the world’s best Maggi noodles.’
Sucking in the steaming noodles a few minutes later, Reva inquired, ‘Do the rest of your roommates also work in the film industry?’
‘Amit and another one are both engineers, while the third works in a bank.’
So out of the other three she met the one working in the film industry the first; a good omen. And he prepared dinner for her; a better omen.
‘Amit said you are here to be an actor.’
No, I want to be a star.
‘Right.’ It was better for her to state the milder version of her dream.
‘It’s a bad, bad place, mind you. You’ll be given what you need only when you have something more desirable to offer. Exceptions are but rare.’
Reva eyed him intently as he ate his food.
‘Are you an exception or the rule, Vishal?’
He looked up at her in a way as if someone had taken out his battery after switching on the surprise mode. Then he laughed out. A few seconds later he asked, ‘So where are you from?’
Before Reva replied she made a mental note: Vishal hadn’t answered her.
NEEV DIXIT
It was all pleasant: the train and his taxi ride from Panvel to Vashi till he climbed the five floors to his friend’s apartment. Then he saw a big, shining Godrej lock on the door and a paper slip taped on the door addressed to him:
Neev, my granny is not well. I’ll be back in a few days. SORRY!–Mohit.
Neev took off his shades to read it again. It read the same. He stomped the floor in angst. One of the neighbours opened the door and peeped out. Neev turned to face her. She looked middle-aged.
‘Excuse me, can you please tell me—’
The lady locked the door on his face. Anger, which was his Achilles’ heel since birth, clouded his mind. He pressed the calling bell and showed his two middle fingers at the peephole.
Downstairs, standing by the security guard’s bamboo chair, he realized it had started raining copiously.
‘Excuse me bhaiya, is there any hotel nearby?’
‘Where are you from?’ said the guard, busy scratching his groin.
‘I’ve come from Ghaziabad.’
The guard suddenly looked interested.
‘I’m from Allahabad.’
Neev gave him a good-to-know-that smile which he didn’t really mean.
‘Here for holidaying?’
‘No. To act in films.’ Neev’s pride was evident. ‘Phillam?’ the guard looked at him up-down-up. ‘Why don’t you sit?’ he got up.
‘It’s okay. I need a hotel for myself.’
The guard looked lost for some time. He rushed across the road to the only open shop opposite the apartment. A minute later, he was back gasping for air and drenched in rain.
‘I had a talk with my son-in-law. He works as a boy in a good hotel in Goregaon.’
‘Goregaon?’
‘Where Phillam city is.’
Neev’s attention got a punch. The guard told him the address and directions.
‘Take an auto from here, go to Vashi station, and then take a train. Get down at Wadala station and then take a train for Borivali. Goregaon will come in between.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Uttar Pradesh zindabaad.’ Finally, the reason for the guard’s sudden behavioral change registered with Neev. It’s ethnocentric attitude like this, Neev wondered, that integrates people at one level and disintegrates them at another.
The humongous crowd made the train seem like a monster’s belly, with loads of shit ejected and refilled regularly at each station. He was literally mauled by the crowd and was all too glad when his destination finally came, allowing him to disembark from the horror of a journey.
He eventually located the place in Goregaon. As soon as he checked into his room and saw the bed, he surrendered himself to it. He got up late, ordered food from a nearby restaurant, and ate it on his bed. It was while finishing his food that he heard a woman’s voice. The second time it happened, he knew it was coming from the adjacent room. There was a common door between the two rooms and by now Neev had placed his ears on it.
The quiet surrounding helped him listen more clearly.
‘I hope you know what you are doing.’
‘Yes. And I’m sure you want it as much as I do,’ said a man. ‘Want to smoke?’ he added.
There was silence. Perhaps the girl had said yes and the man was lighting a cigarette for her.
‘You can make a great heroine,’ remarked the man.
‘Really? Thanks. This will bear result,’ said the woman.
‘What will?’
‘Whatever we do tonight.’
‘I hope so,’ said the man.
‘What are we waiting for?’
There was a loud noise. As if a vase had broken. Next, he heard the girl moan.
Casting couch! Neev finally knew what was going on in the other room. And he wondered—if this woman is sleeping with the man for a role, it means the man must have some good connections in the industry. That’s the whole point of casting couch anyway—give and take. If I can locate this man then perhaps he could lead me to..? Neev sighed and went back to his bed. The erotic sounds were still audible but Neev wasn’t listening anymore, too preoccupied with his own thoughts. He had to get in touch with the man. His name with the receptionist would be a fake one. Better to keep an eye on the door lest the man slips away. Neev stepped out in the empty corridor, tiptoed to the adjacent door, and sat down on the floor. It was a stupid thing to do, but this could be an opportunity for him as much it was for the girl moaning like a kitten inside. In no time, Neev fell asleep outside their door.
It was the sound of shoes walking past him that woke him up in the morning. Rubbing his eyes he saw the door was ajar and the man inside was arranging his bag. A closer look and he thought the man could easily be of his age. He knocked.
‘Excuse me, Sir.’
‘I have given the tip.’
‘I’m from the next room.’
The boy now turned to face him.
‘I’m sure you are from the film industry,’ said Neev exhibiting his best smile. The one that floored girls in college.
‘So?’
‘I thought if you could give me a chance. I have my portfolio with me.’
A moment later, the boy laughed in a demeaning way.
‘Dude, I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m no producer or anything. I was here to secure a one-minute role myself.’
‘You got laid for a half-a-minute role?’ Even though he said it aloud, he still couldn’t believe the girl was actually doing the casting couch on him.
‘It’s a Shahraan Ali Bakshi movie, bro. There are people ready to give their organs for it.’
‘Who was the woman?’
The boy seemed to take offence at this.
‘Who the hell are you anyway? Now you get going or I’ll call someone to—’
‘Hey chill! I happened to hear you people have fun last night, so I thought of—’
There was a nostalgic smile on the boy’s face now.
‘Yeah. Her moans told me she liked my tool.’
‘Is it that bad?’
The boy shot an obnoxious glance at him.
‘I mean the competition.’
The boy nodded. ‘Only the luckiest get the roles.’
‘And the rest?’
‘We call them “talented artists”.’
REVE GUPTA
The best thing about the flat was that from one of her windows she could see a medium-sized billboard where Shahraan Ali Bakshi’s latest film’s poster was put up. It made her feel as if he was her neighbour now. Over the years, her relationship with Shahraan had gone from pure admiration to lust to love to respect, and now it was devotion. Now that she was in Mumbai, the cloth of her hope of seeing him in person once was somewhat ironed.
Reva shifted to the one-room flat with help from Vishal. He arranged for the auto rickshaw, took her bags, and even arranged most of her things. Her deliberate inclination towards Vishal was an investment. If it paid rich and quick dividends, she would stick to it, else she would move on. At twenty-one, Reva knew that for a girl like her—with curves that qualified her as any man’s fantasy doll—it’s easy to pocket a guy. The only thing she had to do was show she was interested.
‘How do I get to know where the auditions are taking place? Reva asked walking into the kitchen.
‘I know some casting coordinators,’ Vishal said as he straightened his back on the single mattress he got for her the previous night. Reva appeared from the kitchen with a glass of water.
‘Here.’
‘Hey, when did you get the filter?’
‘When you were out to get the mattress for me. Thanks a lot, Vishal.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ He gulped the water and said, ‘Can I ask you something. But don’t mind it please.’
‘Sure.’ Reva sat down beside him.
‘Amit told me that you have already paid the rent of this flat for eleven months. Sorry, it’s not that I am prying, but did you pay for it yourself?’
‘Dad did.’
‘Hmm. Just out of concern; why don’t you do a job first and meanwhile keep pursuing for roles in the industry?’
‘But would a job leave me with enough time to run around securing roles?’
‘True. Perhaps you can give it some months before deciding.’
‘For how many years have you been in Mumbai, Vishal?’
‘Five.’
‘Five? How old are you?’
‘Twenty-nine. Why?’
‘Nothing. And you have been an assistant director for?’
‘A year. I came here to be a star,’ Vishal laughed out loud. Reva realized his laughter cocooned a pain so unsorted that she didn’t dare to stick to the subject anymore. She wondered why she was entertaining a guy who, as she learnt in the last few days, didn’t like girls smoking, drinking, coming home late, or wearing revealing, western outfits. She sighed realizing it was all for her own sake. The only thing she had learnt before coming to Mumbai was that one can’t realize one’s dream and be human at the same time.
‘This Wednesday, I am supposed to meet someone,’ Reva said softly.
‘Who?’
‘I know this Raghu sir from NSD who has acted in some serials and has done a few movie appearances as well. Raghu Janardan?’
Vishal gave her an I-have-no-clue shrug.
‘Anyway, so he is a good friend of Arushi Sachdeva. She is a casting director of a leading production house here. You know her?’
‘Not really. But it’s nice to know you’ve come to Mumbai with an appointment. And I thought I was the one who would set you up for something.’
Vishal’s hurt was evident. Three days he has known me and look at him, she thought. She had read him right. Vishal loved to own his women. But at this point, she had to behave like she was indeed owned.
‘Come on. It’s just an appointment. Okay, let me promise that when I become a star, I’ll do your film for free. I’m sure you’ll be a director by that time.’ She gave him an enduring smile. This was her future investment. In case the present investment didn’t bring immediate returns who knows, when the future one might come in handy.
The production house was on the fourth floor of a tall building in Versova. After passing three uniformed security guards, one had to push open a thick glass door to arrive at the reception.
‘I have an appointment with Arushi Sachdeva.’
‘Your name?’
‘Reva Gupta.’
‘One second.’ The receptionist picked up the intercom, punched a double digit and spoke, ‘Ma’am, Reva Gupta is here. Certainly.’
She kept the receiver down and said, ‘Please wait there.’
‘Thanks.’
Reva turned and saw a guy already occupying half the couch. He had long curly hair, was clean shaven, and judging by the fit of his clothes, she knew he had a good physique.
‘Excuse me,’ Reva said.
The guy looked at her and said, ‘Yes?’
‘I too have to sit here.’
Who the fuck is this shit?
‘I’ll need more space,’ said Reva, still clutching onto her manners.
The guy leaned and threw an obscene glance at her hips.
‘Just perfect.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ll sit perfectly in this space is what I mean.’
Asshole! An irritated Reva muttered and preferred to stand.
The minutes that followed, Reva tried to calm down and return to her normal, confident self. Come what may, she couldn’t afford to let this opportunity go. Raghu Sir had told her that if Arushi took a liking to her then she could arrange some roles for her. Not the leading ones, she imagined, but not bad ones either. She took out her small mirror and a small brush and gave her face a retouching. The next instant, she saw the guy who was sitting next to her a while ago being pushed out by the security guard. He was hurling abuses at him but the guard didn’t care. For a moment Reva was scared. And then she smiled when the guy glanced at her. It was her opportunity. She showed her nicely manicured, lavender-painted middle finger to him.
‘You are next, girl,’ Reva heard the receptionist say.
She took a deep breath and stood up. Something told her this was her moment. She could feel her instinct whisper to her that she would be the first outsider who would make it big without much of a struggle. She entered the thick glass door.
Fifteen minutes later, Reva came out—her eyes red and glistening with tears. She had met with her worst humiliation inside.
NEEV DIXIT
Mohit located the hotel with help from the security guard of his colony. He apologized for his absence, but Neev’s arrogant self couldn’t take it. Unable to convince Neev that he was really sorry, Mohit left. A day later when outside food caused him diarrhoea, emptying him of body salt and arrogance, Neev found himself in Navi Mumbai once again.
‘You said you didn’t need me,’ Mohit mocked.
‘I am sorry. Now move—’
He ran inside and locked himself in the toilet. It was only three to four days later that he could converse with someone without excusing himself in between to go relieve himself.
‘So what’s the plan?’ Mohit said.
‘This is my plan,’ Neev was looking at a piece of paper.
How About a Sin Tonight? Page 7