by Shobhaa De
BUT AASHA RANI’S PRODUCERS weren’t all that sympathetic or understanding. She began receiving angry calls. One of them was from Gopal. He put it crudely: “Dekho jaan-e-man, we all know that your chakkar with Akshay has started again. Chalo theek hai. You are free to warm anybody’s bed if you want to. But not on our time. We are the people who pay for your fun. Remember that. If you ditch us, you will be finished. Each time you don’t turn up for shooting, we lose lakhs. You have already been knocked out of three big productions. Your reputation is mud. There are hazaar girls willing to take your place. Now listen to me: If you care about yourself and that lafanga, keep the dates you’ve given us. A lot of money is involved. If you don’t, there are ways of dealing with you. Not even the Shethji will be able to help you then. All I have to do is to phone Amrishbhai and let him know about your lafda with his pyaara beta. Phir to khatam.”
Aasha Rani heard him out in stunned silence. It brought her to her senses, but not entirely. She knew Gopal and the others meant business. She’d overheard conversations at the studios also. But at that point nothing else mattered. It was Akshay she wanted. Just Akshay. All of him. All the time.
Fortunately for Aasha Rani, her next two films were hits. Nothing else counted in the industry. She knew that too. She took advantage of the situation to skip work even more. Her schedules became erratic. She was dubbed the most undependable star. She was warned that an industry boycott was being planned.
The showdown finally took place on Rajiv Behl’s sets. Aasha Rani was playing a double role in his film, the usual one that revolved around twins separated at birth. She was expected to score a double victory with Hum Dono, Alag. But Aasha Rani’s mind was not on the film at all. An elaborate mansion had been erected for the climax in which the rich twin comes face-to-face with the poor one. The shooting required complicated camera work. Everybody was tense, including the young producer-director whose maiden film it was.
The first time Aasha Rani failed to show up he was furious, but restrained himself when she arrived two days later. The second time he spoke to her firmly, but not sharply. The third time he threw a tantrum. Aasha Rani threw a countertantrum. The fourth time he asked her to get out. But Aasha Rani was too happy to care: “To hell with movies, yaar.” She laughed when Linda told her that film heroes were refusing to sign films if it meant acting opposite her. It was just the signal Amma needed to come back and take charge of her daughter’s career and life once again.
Aasha Rani was rather glad to see Amma when she arrived unannounced from Madras. “Look at the house. A pigsty!” Amma growled as soon as she walked in. Aasha Rani hugged her and said, “I’m glad you are back. I need you.” Amma ignored her and marched into the kitchen. “Chhee! It’s a gutter,” she declared. “And the new servants—loafers! Where did you get them all from—the slum colony next door?” “That’s right,” Aasha Rani admitted. “God knows you’ll never be able to run your own house. You are disorganized, inefficient and sloppy. How did you manage for so long? What did you eat? There is nothing on the kitchen shelves. The fridge is empty. The whole place is stinking. Stale food everywhere. Rotting vegetables in baskets. Didn’t you learn anything from me? And your career—what is all this nonsense I hear? You don’t go for shooting? You keep producers waiting? Rajiv Behl has replaced you in his film. Is your secretary a hijda? What do you pay him a salary for? Is this the way to handle your affairs? What has happened to your money? Do you know? He must have swallowed it all up. And your taxes? Have you been paying up signing amounts? Who takes those, you or him? Irresponsible girl! Trying to show off with your own people. Fighting with your own amma. Not bothering to see Appa when he was sick. Wasting time with a fading actor. What can he do for you? Nothing!”
Aasha Rani heard her out and then said, “Now that you are here, everything will be all right. Tell me, how is Appa? I heard he was better. They brought him home, didn’t they? And Sudha? How is she?” Amma looked at her. “Yes, Appa pulled out. It was a miracle. Nothing short of it. I know the reason—Shri Venkateshwara’s blessings. I prayed night and day for his recovery. I made a vow to offer a yagna. It is a matter of faith, my girl. And yes, Sudha is very well. She is also receiving offers in Madras. But I don’t know whether I want her to get into this dirty line. One child was enough. Sudha can be a dancer—a great dancer. She has gotten very good reviews. Or she can get married. I have protected that girl. She is pure. Any good Iyengar boy will be proud to marry her.”
Aasha Rani listened to Amma without letting on how she felt. Well, at least Amma was being truthful. And she wished Sudha well. But didn’t Amma stop to think for a moment how her words would hurt Aasha Rani? Didn’t she feel a little ashamed admitting that she had ruined Aasha Rani’s life? No. Amma probably had her explanations all worked out. In any case it was too late to mourn the past. Aasha Rani needed Amma to organize her future.
AMIRCHAND WASN’T HAPPY with the developments either. He sent for Aasha Rani after nearly three months. She knew what the meeting was for. Before he could say anything, she fell at his feet and said, “Forgive me. I have realized my mistake.” Amirchand picked her up gently and put her on the settee. “Look here, I have been hearing stories, receiving complaints. All this is not good. You have to decide what you want to do with your life. Right now you are throwing it away. Your career is in a shambles. Producers, directors, financiers, even your heroes have come to me. I told them, ‘Bhai, she isn’t my private property. Her life is her life. Why complain to me?’ But they said, ‘Shethji, only you will be able to help us. Only you can drill some sense into her head. We run at a loss if she cancels shooting. Today her films are still doing well. But we are gambling with our money on her future films. The public is fickle. Tomorrow there may be another craze, another heroine. We’ll be stuck with unsalable films starring her which have gone overbudget because of her nonsense. Usko line mein laga do.’ So tell me, what are you planning to do? Give me a straight answer. No bakwas.” Aasha Rani said, “OK, boss, no bakwas.” And she told him her plans. “Akshay and I have decided to get married.”
The Shethji looked at her incredulously, his eyes popping out of their sockets. “Tu bilkul pagal ho gayee hai kya? Married? How? He is already married. That wife of his will never agree to a divorce. Even if she does, it will take years and years. You will be an old hag by then. You have lost your senses. Snap out of it! Concentrate on your career. Find the right man. If you can’t, I will. This much I can do for you. But don’t waste your time on that worthless fellow. He can’t even keep you happy in bed. I hear he is very sick.”
Aasha Rani fell back automatically into her old habit of pressing Amirchand’s feet. “You don’t understand, Shethji. I love this man. I really do. I want to marry him. Bear his child. We have found a way, but don’t ask me what. I can’t tell you. As soon as the ceremony is over, you’ll be the first person I’ll bring sweets for. But please do not try to stop me. This means everything to me, everything.”
“All you women are just the same—bloody fools! How can you be any different from your mother? She ruined your life. Now, you’ll ruin your child’s. Don’t you learn from mistakes? What did that father of yours do for any of you? He didn’t even give you his name. What will Akshay do; will he recognize your bastard child? You are being cruel to an innocent life. To satisfy your selfish urges you will raise a baby whose father will disown it—mark my words. How will that child grow up and go to school? Have you thought of all these things?”
Aasha Rani started to cry. “Shethji, you know I have tried to get Akshay out of my life. I’d stopped seeing him in between. I went with other men, hoping I’d be able to get him out of my thoughts. But it didn’t work. I’m willing to sacrifice everything. My career, my money, fame, sub kuch. All I want are your blessings. There is nobody else I can depend on in the world. Not even Amma. If she finds out my plans, she will kill me. She’ll do anything to stop this marriage. Shethji, I beg of you, don’t hate me for what I’m doing. And you can t
ell all my producers that I’ll finish their assignments on time. Now that I know the course my life is going to take, I feel calmer. I feel secure. I won’t ditch anybody. I’ll turn up for shooting. But I’m not going to sign any more films either.”
Without another word, she bent down to touch his feet, picked up her bag and ran out, tears streaming down her face.
THE NEWS THAT Aasha Rani was quitting films spread quickly. Linda was the first to phone. “Is it true?” she asked. “Yes,” Aasha Rani said in an excited voice. “Why?” Linda demanded. “Are you asking as a friend or a journalist?” Aasha Rani asked. “Don’t you know by now—there is no such thing as ‘friendship’ between journalists and film stars? A scoop is a scoop. It comes first—before anything else. Does that answer your question?” Impulsively Aasha Rani said, “Come and have lunch with me. We’ll talk about it.” Linda paused. “I’ll be bringing a photographer along. Put on your makeup and wear something trendy.” Aasha Rani groaned. “Listen, do you never stop working? I don’t feel like applying makeup today. I want to relax, chat, gossip.” “Forget it, in that case. I have loads of stuff to write. You know we are working on our annual issue right now. I’m not a lady of leisure like you. I work for a living. I can’t waste time hogging idlis and listening to you mooning over that eunuch unless I can use your quotes!” Linda snapped. Aasha Rani was in much too good a mood to protest. “Chalo theek hai, see you in an hour.”
Amma was suspicious. “Who was that on the phone?” she demanded. “Just Linda,” Aasha Rani said nonchalantly. “Just Linda,” Amma mimicked. “Huh! That girl is no good. I’ve told you before. She is not your well-wisher. She is a troublemaker. Why do you waste your time with her kind?” Aasha Rani smiled a mysterious smile and said nothing.
Amma had not been told about the marriage plans. She was furious when she heard Aasha Rani telling a producer over the phone that she was returning the signing amount of his forthcoming picture. “Have you gone mad? Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “I feel like taking some time off. I’m tired, Amma; I need a holiday,” Aasha Rani replied airily. “What nonsense! At your age—tired? You look like a horse. There’s nothing wrong with you. Now is the time to make money,” Amma said scornfully.
“Money, money, money. That’s all you think of. Well, I’m fed up with being your money machine. I’ve done enough for everybody—you, Sudha and the others—now I want to live for myself and enjoy life.” Amma glared at her, eyes blazing. “Ungrateful wretch! I’ve sacrificed so much—my youth, my time, my energy. What for? So that I could make you a star. And this is how you treat your family? You want to throw everything away on some stupid whim, on some stupid man? Tell me, Baby, is that flop actor going to look after you in your old age? Is he going to look after your amma or your sister? We have to look after ourselves. Tomorrow, you won’t have anybody willing to look at you. Today you are famous, successful. India is at your feet. But memory is very short. If you get out of films, other girls will get in, and the same fans who run after you today will be chasing them. That is the way the world is. Your arrogance won’t work. Listen to your amma. Who else can tell you the truth? And don’t open your heart to that evil girl. Never trust these journalists. They are snakes—vicious and poisonous. She will not think twice before biting you!”
“LET’S JUST DRIVE around the city or go to the zoo. Anywhere. We could take a launch from the Gateway of India and see the Elephanta Caves. I’ve been in Bombay for so many years, but I haven’t seen anything. Just the inside of studios and five-star hotels. I want to wander around in the markets. Go shopping at Kala Niketan. Buy something at Chor Bazaar—have you been there? Akshay has told me so much about it. Let’s have lunch at some sweet little Udipi place. Let me buy you a sari from Kala Niketan. Let’s hunt for sandals at the Oberoi Shopping Arcade—let’s do something different and exciting!” Aasha Rani said all in a rush to Linda as soon as she arrived.
Linda looked at her as if she were crazy. “Call that exciting? My dear woman, we do those things every day of our lives. Elephanta! Do you know it will take not less than five hours to go there and back? Even foreigners think twice before getting on the ferry. And have you thought of the crowds everywhere?”
“I won’t wear makeup. Or I’ll wear a burqa. I have one somewhere. I used to put it on in the early days when I went off to see my movies in theaters with the ordinary crowds. It used to be so much fun listening to their comments, seeing their reactions. Haven’t done anything like that in years. Chalo na.”
OK,” said Linda reluctantly. “But first, a deal. You give me an exclusive on why you are quitting and I’ll come slumming with you.”
“Deal,” said Aasha Rani trustingly.
AKSHAY WASN’T CONVINCED about the marriage idea at all. “Ajay will kill me,” he said to Aasha Rani. “Who is Ajay? Your keeper? Haven’t you done enough for him? If you’d said Malini would get upset, I’d have understood. But right now, I don’t want to think of anyone, not them, not Amma, not producers—no one. I want to concentrate on us. And our life!”
“Have you thought of the repercussions? There are laws in India—bigamy laws. We must consult some senior lawyers. But I can’t talk to my man; he’ll tell Malini and Ajay. He advises us on all matters. Handles the trust for the children,” Akshay hedged, squirming in his seat. “I’ll handle everything. I’ll talk to someone. We will find a solution. You wait and see,” Aasha Rani said.
She came back a couple of days later looking triumphant. “Akshay—I’ve got the answer! We can get married and it will be recognized by the whole world!” She waited to see his reaction. His eyes wore a guarded expression. “Well—aren’t you going to ask me what I’ve discovered?” She laughed. “Tell me,” he said. “Muslims,” she announced. “We can both become Muslims! It’s easy. First we get converted to the faith by a Kazi, change our names, and then perform the nikah—that’s all it takes. That way, there doesn’t have to be a divorce or anything! I’ll be your legally wedded second wife. Muslims can have four, but you’d better stop with me.”
“I knew you’d come up with that—it has been tried before, you know. We aren’t the first film wallahs to think of it,” Akshay said, not meeting her eyes. “Then,” Aasha Rani reasoned, “so much the better if others have also done it. Nobody will raise eyebrows when they hear our news.”
“You are so stubborn. And so stupid. Do you really think it’s that simple? Or that it will be accepted by everyone without causing a sensation? Just forget it. Besides, I don’t want to become a Muslim. I believe in my religion. I don’t want to give up my faith. I was born a Hindu. I want to die a Hindu. I want to be cremated, not buried. I don’t want to change my name to Aslam Khan or something. How could you think such an absurd plan would work?”
“I thought it could work because I wanted it to. But you, you couldn’t care less! You’ve just taken me up again because your career is in the doldrums, and you’re scared shitless of your wife. Damn you, damn you…” Aasha Rani collapsed on the sofa and sobbed uncontrollably.
WHENAMMAFINALLY got the watchman to break open the door, she found Aasha Rani sprawled across the bed. Amma rushed to cover her bare legs first, knowing the watchman would be devouring the sight with hungry eyes. She took in the empty medicine bottle, the half-drunk glass of water. There was no time to waste. Who to call? The first name that came to her mind was Kishenbhai’s.
He was there within half an hour. “This could become a police case,” he said after checking Aasha Rani’s pulse. “We’ve already wasted so much time—let’s take her to that private nursing home close by. Do not inform anybody. This shouldn’t get to the press. As it is, her career is shaky right now. Bad publicity will finish her off completely. Do you know some good doctor? Or shall I contact my family fellow? At least he won’t talk outside. How many pills did she swallow? Why did you keep such things in the house?”
Amma wrung her hands. “Baba, how was I to know this foolish girl would do such a thing? I’d kept
a few tablets for myself; I have trouble sleeping at night. Hai Bhagwan! Who would have imagined this foolish girl would do this? Shall we get an ambulance?”
Kishenbhai hastily said, “No, no. We’ll take her in the van. Get the driver up. You and I will have to carry her. The best thing is to handle it all ourselves. The minute people get to know, Aasha Rani’s career is over—take it from me.”
“AASHA RANI’S SUICIDE ATTEMPT,” screamed the headline in an evening paper. Linda’s byline was prominently displayed. Not wanting to wait for a month before carrying the sensational news in her own magazine, Linda had sold the story to the paper on the condition that they front-paged the news and gave her a well-displayed byline. The short, snappy copy was full of statements that Aasha Rani had made to Linda strictly in confidence, feelings and ideas she’d let slip from time to time. She quoted Aasha Rani on topics ranging from her disillusionment with the film industry to her decision to quit, to marry Akshay, and to have his baby. The last was the final blow.
Kishenbhai and Amma stared at the paper in disbelief. “Is this true?” Kishenbhai asked. Amma shook her head. “Aasha Rani has lost her mind. She has gone mad. No, I hope it is not true. She hasn’t mentioned it to me at all. But these last few days she had become so secretive. She didn’t tell me anything. I’m sure that she-devil Linda has made it all up to make her story sensational. Aasha Rani would not take such a step; I know my baby. That wretched woman. I’d warned Baby about her. Now her eyes will finally open. These journalists are all the same. I’ll deal with her later—Linda ki bachchi. Poor, poor baby.”