Follow Kabir on his adventures as a private investigator, with inner demons to battle.
Chapter 3
I was done for the day and the day being a Friday ,a new movie had been released in the theatres. Without giving any second thought i rushed to Rivoli, a cinema house near my place of investigation. A giant poster placed on a similar sized holding welcomed me.
The main actor stood shirtless, exposing his well structured abs and oiled up biceps as he held two beautiful ladies by either of his arms. Oh bollywood. ‘I’m your hero’ screamed the green and red painted words on the poster .
“One for the 12.15 show please.” I requested while withdrawing the not so inexpensive 350 rupees from my wallet. I wasn’t a fan of bollywood films. Neither did the skin exposed allure me to try and watch the crap fest the directors of the age made. But there was some connection that bound me to go through all this trouble. Something made me feel like I was closer to my roots.
“Aap karen toh raas leela … main karun toh bhai ki tarah character dheela”
Mumbai 1998
South Mumbai
Dhawans bungalow
The Chandelier skied my head from at the ceiling. It’s light making me feel warm and cozy beneath it. Huge posters framed into expensive wooden cases hung on the wall.
With each poster , different characters appeared representing the film they were in.
This was the huge bungalow of a big Indian movie director. Mr. Balraj Dhawan. And I was sitting in it’s living room, surrounded by posters of his many successful works.
“Kabir bhaiya!” I heard my little brother call for me.
I got off the sofa as I saw him and Dad coming at me with a huge trophy of sorts.
“Varun! Papa!” I said on seeing them after a week. Mom joined us in the living room too.
Dad had gone for an award ceremony to Singapore and had seemingly bagged one award for his latest work. Varun went with him.
I stayed home with mom and Shanu my sister because I didn’t really find the fun in the film world. Varun on the other hand stayed super enegized to witness the same.
Shanu returned from her school and soon the Dhawan family had a hearty happy dinner at home celebrating dad’s win. Varun rambled on and on about the actors he had met. Mom and Dad spoke out about their plans of making me enter Bollywood in the next 8 years as I was already 13. Shanu talked about how her English teacher gave her chocolates for every test she scored a 10 out of 10. An adorable sister she was.
Varun was a great little brother but his enthusiasm always made me feel inadequate about myself. He had the natural gift of mixing up with people while I used to stay silent and keep to myself. My parents hoped for me to have a successful career in Bollywood as an actor but I could clearly see that Varun had the Calibre for it. He was a star and he needed no one to tell that to him.
My sister Shanu on the other hand was a 8 year old little angel. She used to keep me company when at big parties, Mom Dad and Varun would be socialising with the big stars.
Shanu would talk about her school, her cartoons and ask me for advice. I was her big brother and she would make me feel that every second. She was as innocent as a child can be and unaware of any superficial layer of life that surrounded the human life.
Delhi
2015
Rivoli
The whistles from the crowd brought me back to the movie from the palace of memories that had held me a minute ago. I walked out of the theatre feeling different than any of what the other audience members were feeling. I had a certain feeling of pride, nostalgia with a pinch of pain.
“Sir I think there was a fire at her office.” I called up Manu Mittal and told him.
“Fire!”
“Yes sir. Give me two days and I’ll have the whole story for you .”
“Okay then see you Sunday. Please find out soon.”
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