by Saranya Rai
‘Miniiiii,’ Vicky groaned into his towel, ‘what the fuck possessed you? You straight up lied about Kriti?’
‘I know, I know, I was so focused on protecting you, I didn’t properly consider what I was doing to Kriti. It was all I could think of then. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think anything would happen.’
‘Wait. I gather something has happened. He wrote about her, didn’t he? What did that bastard write?’
‘Yeah. He printed a blind item in the new issue of Star Glitz that came out today. It’s all over the Internet. He somehow found out that Kritika is doing that new movie and also that she’d met him at a film festival, and just ran with what I told him. The thing implies she’s dating Neogi and that’s why she got the role, and because he’s desperate enough to cast a big-ticket actor who isn’t that great, after the failure of his last film.’
Mini finished in a rush, cringing even as she said it out loud.
‘Mini . . . how could you? This is so incredibly irresponsible! And when I specifically told you how important it was that you don’t talk about Kritika and Abhimanyu.’ Vicky’s voice hardened. ‘You might have got Kriti into major trouble!’
‘I didn’t even talk about them, bhaiya! I only had Abhimanyu’s image in my head when I was describing Kritika’s fake boyfriend. I didn’t for a second think Bhaskar Joshi would make that connection.’ Mini sounded close to tears. ‘I’ll . . . I’ll call Kritika and apologize to her. Heck, I’ll call Abhimanyu and tell him it was all my fault!’
‘You’ll do no such thing. I need to talk to Kriti and figure out what her PR team and management’s official position is.’ Vicky sighed. ‘I’ll fix this, Mini Golf. Don’t worry about it. I . . . look, things have improved dramatically with Kriti. We actually are interested in each other. I was going to tell you today. This is just an added complication, but we’ll be fine.’
‘Oh God, bhaiya, I’m so sorry.’ Mini sniffled loudly. ‘I don’t want to mess anything up further but if there is anything you need me to do, just say the word. Whatever consequences there are for this, I should face them.’
Vicky pinched the bridge of his nose, where a migraine was building. ‘That’s not entirely true. I was also at fault for telling you something Kriti had told me in confidence. I’m older, I have enough experience to know better. Don’t . . . Don’t worry about it, Mini. This is on me as much as you, if not more. I’ll deal with it.’
‘Don’t say that, bhaiya.’ Mini actually broke into tears. ‘You should be able to count on me. This is not your fault. Please don’t tell Kritika it is.’
‘I do count on you, Mini. But some things aren’t appropriate for discussion anyway. Look, stop fretting, I’ll handle this and I’ll talk to you later.’
Disconnecting the call, Vicky tossed his phone on to the bed and paced up and down his suite. Kriti’s faith was so fragile. It wouldn’t take all that much to shatter it. And she had reason this time. He’d been casual and Mini had been careless. Hopefully, nothing worse than some brief Internet speculation would come out of it.
Vicky dreaded the conversation he knew he would have to have with Kriti as soon as possible.
11
The arrival of the monsoon had meant that the scorching ground no longer burnt his feet as he walked over endless fields, through forests and occasionally by a village street. But now the monsoon had withdrawn and there was a steady nip in the air every evening. Not that Ranjha particularly cared. He’d lost track of the days and weeks that had passed since he’d left Jhang and started walking towards the mountains in the north. He depended on the kindness of strangers for the occasional plate of food. But more days than not, he tightened his waistband and walked on without stopping.
His youthfully lean and active body had hardened, withering away into ropy muscle and bone. His hair was longer, as was his beard. But most striking of all, the everlasting sound of the flute did not accompany him everywhere. He still carried the instrument but found himself less and less inclined to play it.
It was on a hazy, misty morning that Ranjha came across another man, sitting by a pool, preparing to begin a modest meal of a couple of flatbreads and water. Ranjha would have walked on, had it not been for the man who smiled and nodded at him.
Compelled to return the gesture, Ranjha found himself walking towards the edge of the pool where the man sat. The man continued smiling at him as though he had been expecting him all along and when Ranjha sat down on the damp ground in front of him, he held out one of his two flatbreads.
Ranjha suddenly realized he was ravenous. With only a second of hesitation, he accepted the bread and began wolfing it down. It was not until he was done eating that it occurred to him that this stranger may have been able to ill afford sharing his food. He certainly did not look wealthy. His clothing was ragged, and the hair and beard was longer than Ranjha’s, matted with ash and dirt. Wanting to apologize, Ranjha finally settled on gratitude.
‘I thank you, my friend. Your kindness will see me through the day and even the next. I cannot offer you any money, but I can play my flute for you.’
‘I recognize a kindred soul when I see one. Sharing my food with another wanderer is a privilege.’
The pieces finally fell into place for Ranjha and he shook his head.
‘You are a devotee. Pardon me, I am not. I am merely a hungry traveller.’
‘It does not matter that you do not believe yourself to be looking for God, brother. You have the soul of a wanderer. I see it. I would like to hear you play your flute.’
And so, Ranjha played, the man closing his eyes in deep appreciation.
After he was done, he looked Ranjha over for a minute and seemed to come to some sort of decision.
‘I live not far from here, in a place the locals call Tilla Jogian. Would you like to visit and meet our leader?’
Perhaps Ranjha was more tired than he had thought because he agreed.
~
Kriti stood at one of the side entrances to the studio, shifting impatiently from one foot to another despite her exhaustion. She’d put in sixteen straight hours on set and couldn’t wait to return to her hotel room. There was one other thing she needed to do today, however, and she’d rather get it over with. If only Vicky would hurry up and bring his car around.
The silver sedan Vicky favoured finally rolled to a stop in front of her and she got in with a furtive look behind. The air-conditioning was cranked up and Kriti welcomed it after the soul-sucking humidity outside. In the driver’s seat, Vicky drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for her to finish fastening the seat belt.
Kriti wasn’t sure if it was her exhaustion, but the grin he offered did not quite reach his eyes. For a moment, she could close her eyes, lean back against the soft leather and pretend there was nothing amiss. She could pretend that her considerate boyfriend had picked her up at the end of a long day at work and was driving her home in the sudden shower. An old favourite song would play on the radio, softly against the patter of rain on metal and glass, while they sat in companionable silence.
Vicky cleared his throat, shattering her reverie. ‘This is nice, no? We should consider driving to and back from the set together when we can, even without the threat of a “serious conversation”.’
Kriti opened her eyes, smiling slightly. That was more like the Vicky Behl she knew.
‘You know why we don’t.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ He exhaled on the last word, making Kriti turn her head and study him more closely in the rippling light and shadow of traffic. She looked fondly at his face, tracing his prominent cheekbones and aquiline nose with her eyes. Vicky had also had a physically gruelling day on set, filming one of the action sequences where Ranjha was beaten up by some of the villagers. Tired lines pulled at the corner of his eyes and his beard was a little untidier than strictly necessary for his character. A wave of affection washed over her and she knew Samiya’s concerns were baseless. Sure, Vicky could be trying sometimes, but he understood
what mattered to her like few others did. There was just no way he had anything to do with the stupid story Bhaskar Joshi had come up with.
‘So, what did you want to talk about that you broke your own cardinal rule and asked me to drive you back?’ he asked.
Kriti shook her head. ‘Nothing, really. I missed you. It’s been a hell of a day.’
Vicky tossed her a questioning look. ‘You saw me last night, and all day on set, and we’re going back to the same hotel where you could choose to sneak into my room or let me sneak into yours.’
‘Don’t tempt me, we have another viciously early start tomorrow.’
Vicky laughed lightly but soon sobered up. ‘Seriously, Kriti, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing! Well, except . . . I don’t know if you’ve seen or heard anything about it . . . There was a piece about me in Star Glitz and it’s all over the Internet now.’
This time Kriti was sure it wasn’t her imagination. Vicky looked increasingly grim and would not look at her.
‘Vicky . . . you don’t think there’s any truth to that stupid thing? About me having an affair with Abhimanyu Neogi?’
‘Of course not!’ His tone was so genuinely incredulous, Kriti was mollified.
‘Yeah, I can barely manage to have a clandestine affair with you, forget another dude in another city.’
Vicky did not laugh and Kriti could feel her stomach churning with anxiety. Samiya’s question ate at her nerve endings until she couldn’t hold herself back. She twisted the seat belt around her fist, pulling it away from her chest.
‘Don’t get mad, okay, but I have to ask you this. Samiya insists. Did you accidentally let slip to anyone that I’m doing the Neogi movie?’
There was an uncomfortable lull while Kriti waited for Vicky’s response with a growing sense of foreboding.
Vicky exhaled loudly again. ‘I was going to talk to you about this. It is a . . . possibility.’
‘What?’
‘I . . . I think I let it slip at my sister’s birthday party. I was slightly drunk, and you know how word spreads?’
For a minute, Kriti didn’t quite know how to react. ‘You got drunk and told a bunch of people about something I specifically told you not to?’
He commenced another rapid tattoo on the steering wheel while the car waited in traffic. ‘In a way. I’m really sorry, Kriti. I wasn’t thinking.’
‘Clearly. I can’t believe you would . . . when I specifically asked you not to! Do you know how much of a mess Samiya and the rest of my team is having to deal with because Abhimanyu’s spitting mad about this whole thing? Who all did you even tell?’
‘It’s not important, Kriti, I’m taking care of it.’
‘Like you took care of keeping the one secret I asked you to?’
‘No—look, I know it sounds bad but it will blow over. It always does.’
‘That’s not the fucking point, Vicky.’ Kriti finally snapped. She sat up straight, turning her body to face him. The blood rushing to her temples was going to give her a colossal headache in an hour, but she was beside herself. ‘You are so goddam casual about everything. What am I supposed to do if KNP Productions decides to take the offer back because Abhimanyu won’t work with me any more?’
‘That’s not going to happen!’
Kriti wanted to scream, but she managed to control her voice, a picture of cold poise. ‘Of course, it’s never happened to you. Your dad is friends with a bunch of people in the business and you’re the hero. Nobody gives a damn if people think you sleep your way to any roles. You won’t get blackballed from decent roles because your public perception doesn’t fit them. You don’t have to fight tooth and nail so that another hot girl who is ten years younger doesn’t replace you because you stopped paying attention for a second!’
A little crease appeared on his forehead and the lines around his mouth tightened further. ‘That’s a little unfair, Kriti, I’ve had my fair share of PR trouble and difficulty getting work I enjoy too. And that’s why I’m telling you it’ll be fine—’
‘Don’t!’ Kriti hissed. ‘Don’t you fucking tell me what to do and how to deal with this. Just because you get away with saying whatever you want all the time and pulling outrageous shit does not mean I will also. The rules are different for heroes and heroines, and you know it. Don’t insult my intelligence by implying otherwise. This is exactly what I was afraid of when I didn’t want us to get involved. I knew you’d be disastrous for my work!’
Vicky stared straight ahead, a muscle ticking in his jaw. ‘I really am sorry about this mess. And I do mean that I’ve dealt with the situation and no one I know will be saying anything else to the press. Of course, if you do want me to do anything else, just let me know.’
‘I think you’ve done enough. My team is working on it.’
Even as Kriti crossed her arms and looked out of her window, the feeling of betrayal tempered her fury until it thickened in her veins, weighing her down, locking her throat. This was not how she wanted things to end with Vicky. This was not how their story was meant to go. Although this was very different from her relationship with Raunak, the heartbreak felt awfully similar. Raunak had cheated on her more than once, and denied it at every confrontation, making her question her own sanity. Even after she’d broken it off, too many of their common friends thought she had been unreasonable and paranoid. Raunak’s fan clubs had left vicious comments on her own fan pages. If a director considered casting one or the other in their film, it was usually Raunak who received the first offer. And all this aside from the relentless hounding by entertainment journalists at every public event. Vicky’s betrayal, while different, reminded her of one terrible truth. No one in this industry really had her back.
~
‘Do you have anything else to add?’ Sudarshana glared at Arun over the frames of her reading glasses, script in one hand, the other fist clenched with an overwhelming need to throttle someone.
Arun eyed her tense frame and the wild wisps of hair escaping her standard knot with mild unease. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’
Sudarshana stalked away to make a few passive-aggressive comments to the art department on the amount of time they were taking to fix a broken staircase in Heer’s house. She knew her anger was misdirected, but the day was at sixes and sevens, and she was barely holding on to her temper. To begin with, her lead pair’s on-and-off equation was throwing a serious wrench into their work. While Kritika was at her unflappable steely best, it was Vicky who was falling to pieces. He kept forgetting his lines, tripping up over the directions or generally not quite putting in the heart she was used to seeing from him. She had a strong feeling this had something to do with Kritika and the recent gossip about her and that overblown Abhimanyu Neogi, but she wasn’t sure what exactly.
And as though that wasn’t enough, her script supervisor had finally been forced to take the day off to deal with a persistent virus that she’d been valiantly fighting for a week, a portion of the set had given way and needed to be reconstructed stat, Heer’s earrings from a connecting shot were missing and the weather was nasty. On top of everything else, she was excruciatingly embarrassed. It was that bloody photo shoot’s fault. It wasn’t that she’d shared anything overtly personal or embarrassing with Arun, but the whole thing had left her with a feeling of vulnerability that still had her shaken, days later.
Of course, she knew it was childish and unprofessional to boot, but the only way she could get through this day was to become defensive enough that everyone would leave her alone and get things done.
‘Vicky!’ Her bark caught his attention and he scrambled to his feet. If she weren’t so annoyed, she’d have laughed for sure. She was not going to catch Arun’s eye. They’d both noted how Vicky had a schoolboy tendency to defer to her authority. ‘If you’re confident you can remember the next set of dialogues, I’d like to begin rehearsing while Salim puts the finishing touches on the staircase.’
Vicky nodded, unusually sombre.
‘We’re going to rehearse on flat ground now, but you’re both going to have to make adjustments for the stairs. Ranjha, dialogue, then you hold Heer’s wrist and pull backwards. Heer, you’re going to lose your balance and fall backwards and he’s going to catch you. Smile at each other for five seconds, Heer, dialogue. Clear?’
Signalling at Arun, Sudarshana walked out of the frame to cue them.
It occurred to Sudarshana as Vicky and Kritika went through the motions that there was a distinct melancholy in their movement, and in Vicky’s gaze. Almost calling them out on it, she hesitated, and changed her mind. Shooting romantic scenes was never as romantic as it appeared on screen. There were just far too many people on set, too much whispered consultation, too many harsh lights, too many technicalities to focus on. But there was a romantic quality to Vicky and Kritika’s rehearsal today that she didn’t want to lose out on, despite the mood being far less playful than the script called for. As she looked at her leading pair, she almost sympathized with Vicky. Kritika’s body language had a stand-offish quality that did not invite closeness. And Vicky, who was ordinarily a charmer, was obviously forlorn and cut up over something.
Chewing her lip as she observed them, she didn’t notice Arun come stand by her.
‘Aren’t you going to say anything about the feel? The script says it should be light-hearted and joyful.’
Forgetting her embarrassment for a second, Sudarshana shook her head, still focused on Vicky and Kritika. ‘I know, but I think I actually like how they’re doing it. There’s a wistfulness that I find really appealing.’