Chapter 2 - All For The Show

 And about professionalism, of course

“How rude!” I muttered under my breath, appalled at how fast he got under my nerves. Who had imagined a first encounter like this? Who had predicted such impertinence? Who thought my impression of him would change so soon, so fast?

I remembered doing a background check when I had received a confirmation from the production house, unable to control my curiosity. His past endeavors had reflected the struggle behind the stardom, the value of hard work, the sincerity and his strong tenacity. An immense amount of respect had filled my heart, wondering how he found the courage and passion from. How was he so focused on his work to not have deviated in any wrong direction? The glamor and fame always brought a dark side; yet he had managed to keep all rumors under wraps, if there had been any in the first place. How on Earth was I supposed to know that the well respected Sumedh Mudgalkar would in reality be an obnoxious brat! 

Now that I realized his true nature, I inwardly cursed myself and my fate, for troubling me with this living ‘problem’. An instant worry surged through me. Regardless of what he thought, of what the production house thought, I had expectations to meet. Dreams to fulfill. Make Ma proud. Considering the anxiety in the pit of my stomach, I could swear spending every second with him would be nothing short of torture. How ironic was life; characters who couldn’t live without each other were being portrayed by two people who couldn’t stand each other.

“He’s not always like this.” Another baritone voice, somewhat deeper than the person I started to share enmity with, spoke, making me turn on my heel. 

This stranger’s figure was as bulky as his was lean. His muscles bulged out of his sky blue tee paired with denim jeans with an amicable smile on his face. 

When I frowned, he clarified, “I’m Basant, I play Balram on-screen.” 

“So you’re playing his brother.” I chided with a contorted look, lightly crossing my arms. 

“It’s okay to utter his name, as you say.” Basant imitated my tone, a slight grin forming on his face. 

“His name doesn’t need to be referred to.” I spat back, annoyed at him for ruining my mood.

“I’m Mallika, by the way. I play--”

“Radha. I’m aware.” His grin widened into a bright smile as he completed. 

“I’m sorry about the way I acted. I’m not always like this.” I clarified, attempting at a smile. 

“It’s okay. That’s the kind of effect he has on everyone.” I looked up at him in bewilderment.

“You mean, Sumedh likes to pester everyone?” 

“And I thought we had banned his name from our conversations.” Basant smirked, making me flush in embarrassment. I joined him in his chuckles as we continued our light-hearted conversation.

“He’s not always like this either.” Basant repeated, catching my attention. 

“How are you so sure?” I asked, almost immediately. 

“Well, I’ve only known him for a few days longer than you, but I can say that he isn’t this arrogant all the time. Sumedh’s just a little moody, doesn’t open up to people too much.” 

“Too much? I doubt if he opens up at all.” I chastised, looking in the direction he had disappeared. 

“That’s Sumedh. Maybe you could bring a change in him.” His eyes sparkled with newfound hope.

I cast him a look, catching his optimistic tone. With a sigh I answered, “I’m no different than any of you, Basant. And considering his nature, I don’t think anyone can change him. He’s beyond repair.” 

....

The next hour seemed to pass by within a flicker of a second. Before Basant could defend his on-screen brother, Avinish, in his exasperated tone, had ushered me into my vanity van, therefore leaving our conversation unfinished. 

Fortunately, today was not just about meeting other co-stars, but shooting a few promotional videos for our show too. Fortunately, my mind didn’t get enough time to wander back to the arrogance filled green orbs. Fortunately, protocols and schedules and dialogues had bombarded my head, sparing me from random thoughts.

Within the last hour or two, I had been transformed from a common, twenty-first century cheerful Mumbaikar to a divine, twelfth-century chieftain’s daughter of Barsana. I was clad in an Indian traditional attire that I, under normal circumstances, only occasionally wore to festivals. My bottle-green colored top had been embroidered with golden threads that ended soon enough to reveal my stomach. Thankful to my apprehension, the flared skirt splotched with red, green and turquoise flowers was long enough to cover my belly button, leaving the mid-area between the end of my top and the start of my skirt exposed. The ‘lehenga’ had subtly matched with my ‘choli’ following the intricacy of embroidery; meticulous designs had been drawn as borders, with tiny little bells hanging from the ends of the skirt that gave a jingle with each step. The costume department adorned me with two dupattas. A blue netted twisted scarf had one end on my waist while the other was left dangling from my right shoulder after being wrapped around me. Another netted dupatta; this time blended with red and green rested low on my head, with one end tucked under my crop top. 

My hair had been elongated with hair extensions and intricately braided, flaying about on both sides. They had been decorated with little yellow, pink, and white flowers, much like the other jewelry I wore. For a second, I thought the recent popularity for flower jewelry might be dating back to the twelfth century. The only now seemingly peculiar ornaments were the diamond studded nose ring stretched from one side of my face by a delicate pearl string and a minimalistic yet intricately carved golden crown piece.

My feet had been dipped in bright alta, while my fingertips were painted in a similar fashion, a circular design drawn in the middle and back of my palm. A pair of anklets and floral jewelry for my hands and feet accentuated my already divine look. And yet I felt a sense of purity, of elegance, from the alta alone that I couldn’t decipher before. In that moment, I felt as if I had truly become the character I was portraying; truly became Radha. 

“Swati, how does this look?” Deepti and Sushma stood and retreated a step to assess their creativity and artistic skills they had experimented on me.

“Beautiful.” She answered in a daze, a smile playing on her lips. I carefully turned, making sure my feet were dry, before noticing myself in the mirror. 

“Oh my God.” I gasped to myself. This wasn’t me. This couldn’t be. I hadn’t looked this surreal and simple all at the same time. 

My face had been left plain save for a layer of foundation, mascara, and a pink colored lip balm. A floral bindi design paved itself above my eyebrows, matching the more than obvious floral look. It wouldn’t take a fool to realize someone was obsessed with flowers; that someone being me. 

“You might as well start saying ‘O Narayan!’”

“Huh?” I turned to Swati, still in wonderment.  

“‘Oh my God’ isn’t very twelfth century. ‘Hai Narayan’ is more like it.” 

I genuinely smiled at her, “Thank you so much, Swati. And Deepti and Sushma. I never knew I could look so beautiful.”

“You deserve this. You’re our Radha.” Deepti answered as I clutched her hands in nervousness. 

“Wouldn’t have been without you all.” 

“And I thought Radha became Radha in entirety only because of Krishn.” Sushma giggled. 

“Only because she didn’t have supportive friends like you all.” I defended in glee. 

“Here’s your script for today, Mallika.” Avinish handed me two sheets of paper. 

“Thanks Bhai.”          

Of the two promotional videos we were scheduled to shoot today, only one had dialogues, yet both involved a considerable level of proximity. Unsurprisingly, both videos required only Krishn and Radha. One four-minute encounter with him was exhausting, how would I possibly survive hours of shooting?

…. 

“Did you get a chance to meet all your co-stars, Mallika?” Arihant Sir asked as I approached him. We had reached the green screen area, indicating the proposition of VFX.

“Briefly, Sir.” I replied succinctly, referring to the exchange of ‘hellos’ I made with other members of the cast on my way to this set location.

“I’m hoping they were pleasant.” He added.

“Mostly, yes. Though there are a few people who don’t know the value of a first impression; specifically a good first impression.”

A pair of green eyes darted in my direction from a distance, causing me to flinch. I decided to reciprocate his gaze with my fury-filled one, only to be left appalled by his contrasting look. He too had transformed to his on-screen character, radiating divinity. The symbolic peacock feather caught my eye first, its vibrancy spreading warmth within my heart. It was tucked under a blue and pink twisted turban, beautifully complemented with flowers. Unknowingly my gaze had fixated onto his exquisite colored eyes that uncanningly had started to draw me in, paving a soft smile on my face. Almost immediately, I gulped at the thoughts running in my head and regained my composure. 

His costume department had paired a bright yellow ‘dhoti’ with embroidered red borders with a mere scarf wrapped around his shoulders; one side in pink while the other in blue. If observed, it had been intricately embroidered with golden thread, yet again reminding us of the spiritual power of our characters. Despite the emphasized respect for Lord Krishna and Goddess Radha, I couldn’t digest the fact that his upper body was clad in a scarf, but only a scarf. Yes, he had two heavy necklaces around his neck, but it was just jewelry. He too had anklets and bracelets and alta covered hands and feet, but the fact that he was barely clad with clothes refused to leave my mind. 

“Maybe they’ll start meaning more than just a first impression in your life.” Arihant Sir broke my chain of thoughts, relieving my surging embarrassment.

“Maybe.” I whispered, shifting my gaze back to the director. 

“Ready?” 

“More than ever, Sir.” I inhaled confidently and passed a boisterous smile.

“Okay, let’s get you two in the middle right there.” He signalled me to stand beside Sumedh as I bated a breath. As I approached him, I saw him turn away in nonchalance. Without letting the dejection get through to me, I smiled, “Good to see you again.” 

“Whatever.” He scoffed, looking ahead.

“It wouldn’t hurt to say something nice.” I spat. 

“Actually it would.” He retaliated. 

“What’s your problem, Sumedh?”

“Would you believe if I said it was you?” 

I shook my head in hysteria, “I can’t believe this!” 

“Thought so.” He smirked, casting me a condescending look. 

“This isn’t going to work if we can’t say two words to each other in peace, Sumedh!” I huffed in exasperation. The man had the ability to get on my nerves in a few seconds.

“This will. You and I will work professionally, no need to develop any kind of relationship outside that.”

“You know what, you’re right. I don’t want to ruin my mood by speaking to you.” I agreed as he merely shrugged.

“Sumedh, here’s your ‘basuri’.” A crew member rushed to him, handing him a wooden flute. I kept my hands to my sides, fisting and unfisting every few seconds until the anger towards the guy on my right subsided. 

“Okay, I want you two to sit on that swing behind you.” Arihant Sir directed as we turned our heads.

The chains of the swing were decorated with creepers and flowers, giving it a naturistic effect as it held a ledge in between. The bench-like ledge was decorated similarly, able to fit around three people.

Sumedh jumped onto the swing, positioning himself. I, on the other hand, felt envious of his comfortable attire while I was left to deal with a long skirt and veils, making sure nothing left its designated spot. My team had worked too hard in achieving this look and I couldn’t afford to ruin it. 

Noticing my struggle at sitting on the high swing, Sumedh, to my surprise, held out his hand, offering assistance. As I widened my eyes at his abnormally sweet gesture, he reminded, “Strictly professional, remember.” 

“Right.” I nodded, placing my hand in his red clad one. Adrenaline surged through me as soon as we made contact, resembling the effects of an electric shock. He seemed to have felt similarly for he reciprocated my widened stare and gulped. He tightened his grip as I sat on the ledge.

“Thank you.” I whispered in gratitude as I fixed the pleats of my skirt and my veil. Fixing the nose ring in the middle of my nose, I smiled and called out, “Ready, sir.” 

“Okay, I want both of you to hold both chains of the swing, here’s how. While you both will hold the chains closer to you like you normally would, I want Radha to hold the other chain by reaching out over Krishn. And I want to have you, Krishn, to hold the chain from behind. Is that clear?” 

I nodded my head in affirmation, positioning myself as per the director’s instructions. While it was easy to hold the chains on our sides, reaching out to his side was proving to be equally difficult. No sooner had I leaned in to grab the other chain of the swing, I could breathe the spicy yet subtle scent of his cologne. I swallowed austerely, trying to maintain my focus on the job at hand. Once I positioned myself and found him doing the same, I noticed how I had leaned a little towards him, my legs sprawled a little in the opposite direction. 

He started to say something but before he could object I clarified, “Totally professional, nothing personal.” 

He glared at me with a cynical expression while I rolled my eyes, “Would you please stop?” 

“Stop what?” He pulled a wry smile on his face.  

“Stop irritating me.”

“How am I doing that?”

“By staring at me.” I scoffed, gritting my teeth.

“Don’t be so delusional by considering yourself the center of attention. I don’t like to stare at you or have you sprawled all over me. Let’s keep this professional and get it over with.” 

I rolled my eyes in indignation, already pestered with the word ‘professional’. 

“Good. Now I want you both to look into each other’s eyes.” The director called out from his microphone.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him close his eyes for a second and take in a deep breath, as if calming himself down. What I saw next, had me bewitched. His lips curved upwards into a subtle smile as his eyes softened. A sense of longingness had been captured in his gaze. The gentleness, the admiration, the volumes of adoration his orbs had been expressing, through me off. Automatically a smile paved its way through my face too, as I met his gaze. 

“Perfect! Roll, Camera, Action!” I could faintly hear the director’s instructions in the background, still too mesmerized.

Instantly, the swing started rocking back and forth, a camera swung from high above in front of our faces. Instantly the connection I had felt with him was lost, the smile on my face diminished to a frown.

Unable to control the sudden change, I looked away, eventually leading the director to yell, “Cut!” 

“Radha, all okay?” 

“Sorry Sir.” I apologized sheepishly as a voice whispered beside me. 

“Do you know anything about acting? Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t.” Sumedh taunted. 

I shot a glare at him, curving my lips inwards in a thin line as an attempt to suppress my anger.

Fueled to prove him wrong, the next time the director called out ‘Action!’ I resolved to leave him surprised.

 

I leaned in towards him, pointing my feet in the opposite direction yet with utmost elegance, plastering a sweet yet wide smile on my face as I delved into his eyes, gazing with pure admiration for the man sitting beside me. He looked taken aback, appalled at my forwardness, and I did myself a victory dance in my head. Within seconds he composed himself by closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, adorning his face with the same soothing smile he had a while ago. I could breathe in his scent, feel the shivers run down my spine, yet constantly reminded myself to stay alert, to stay focused. He had already seen and mocked me enough, I couldn’t give him another chance.

The swing started to move, as well as the cameras. What changed from last time was the addition of background music, humming the tunes of Radha and Krishn. The melodies sounded so enchanting that I couldn’t decipher when acting had mixed with reality. Couldn’t decipher when the need to prove Sumedh wrong mixed with the need to spend a moment together with him. 

I couldn’t decipher when Mallika became Radha.

….

The next few hours passed getting every sequence shot as per the director’s plan. After that short fiasco where I showed Sumedh my acting abilities, he seemed to have mellowed down, keeping his harsh comments to himself. However, this wasn’t to say that he hadn’t reacted. Each time I was told to place my hands on his shoulders, a similar sense of electricity seemed to jolt through us, making my fingers tremble and causing his shoulder muscles to tauten. What followed were a series of short dance sequences; mainly consisting of a few twirls by Radha in adoration for her Krishn. I had maintained the strong persona of myself, not letting his little scoffs lower my self-esteem. At times I wondered how Radha and Krishn could share equal love and respect so beautifully, while here we were struggling to maintain a pleasant conversation. 

As soon as the director yelled ‘Cut!’ for the final time for that particular shoot, Avinish ran towards me, informing me about a costume change for the next few hours. As exhausted as I felt; both physically and emotionally, I made sure to keep one foot over the other as I walked towards the vanity van. The accessories remained the same, only this time my attire was filled with hues of pink and yellow; brightening the surrounding environment and uplifting my mood. 

Ma had called in as soon as I had gotten ready for the second shoot, making sure I was okay. I couldn’t reveal how I was barely surviving the first day, how my co-star had turned out to be my worst nightmare. So I masked a boisterous look; an emotion I was too familiar with. She left me off the hook, yet something in her motherly voice said an interrogation was due. A lengthy one.

With a bottle of water in hand, I made my way towards the green screen area; our set location once again. Despite the tingling sounds my anklets made with each step, I could faintly hear a voice, more like a cackle, that I had begun to understand very well. Capping the bottle back with its lid, I approached the voice surreptitiously, tiptoeing my way to avoid any noise as I listened. 

“She’s got no experience, she doesn’t know how to act. And all morning she’s been trying to talk to me, trying to get to know me. We all know what these kinds of girls want.” 

“I don’t think she’s like that. I’ve met her too.” Basant. He was talking to Basant? 

“You’re lucky you haven’t had to interact with her as much as me. Honestly, she’s a pain. I don’t understand what the casting director saw in her. She’s not worth it.” 

“Maybe you haven’t seen her work yet.” 

“I’ve seen her so-called acting talent enough to tell you she’s not worth it. She and I are poles apart, in terms of nature and talent. I should’ve gotten a more knowledgeable co-star, not some newbie!”

I dashed towards the hollering voices, unable to compose myself any longer. Gritting through my teeth, I cursed incessantly as I rounded towards him, his back facing towards me. Basant seemed to have spotted me, for his eyes widened in shock. Before he could alert his friend, I tapped him on his shoulder. 

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” Sumedh turned around with a frown on his face that soon turned into a contorted expression, “Speak of the devil and the devil is here!” 

I fumed further while he looked on, wearing a lopsided smirk on his face, “You have no right to pass any sort of comment on me! You have no right to speak about my capability, nor my experience.” He continued to mock me through his hand gestures, mimicking everything I just said.

I balled my hands into fists, venting out further, “You know what? There’s no point justifying myself to you. Because you don’t value any of this. You don’t value struggle. You don’t value hard work. Hell, you probably don’t value relationships either, that’s why you take everything for granted.” 

The last few words hit him hard, for he flinched and I could see a flicker of pain in his eyes. 

“You’re so arrogant that you can’t even bend your head a little to notice humanity, Sumedh Mudgalkar.” 

“Just shut up. Stop it.” He stormed. 

“Why? Can’t handle the bitter truth?” I asked, resting my hand on my hip. 

“You’ve no right to comment on my character!” He growled. 

“Exactly my point.” I reciprocated his anger-filled gaze, seething within. 

“Guys, don’t you have to be on set.” Basant meekly approached, trying to cease the tension between us. 

“Yeah, got distracted. I’ll see you around.” Sumedh responded, passing me a threatening glare as I scrutinized my eyes back at him. 

….

As if the rest of the day hadn’t proven it already, fate decided to show how unfavorable it was yet again. At least the first video only required me to look into his eyes lovingly. This one demanded I touch his face. 

We stood in front of each other, seething in fury, clasping red powder in our already red clad hands. How I wished I could slap him with color rather than gently caressing his cheek. He probably came across the same thought, for his green orbs reddened in rage. My breaths grew uneven as he took steps towards me, reducing the distance. My head arched a little to meet his gaze as his breath fanned over my face. He had a warning look plastered on his face as I shivered in fury. 

“Sumedh, Mallika. I want you to look at each other lovingly, not like you’re about to kill each other.” 

If the director hadn’t noticed the tension earlier, his comment ignited the fire burning within us, giving us the perfect chance.

Not wanting to ruin his reputation, he followed his mantra; closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, marring his anger-stricken face with a soft smile. The sudden shift in emotion irked me the most. How was he so affected by something one moment and totally indifferent in the next? 

“Cut! Mallika, what’s wrong?” Arihant Sir called out as I turned towards him.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” I apologized in embarrassment, regretting how I had been called out in front of him, yet again.  

“Try to delve into your character. Let’s try this again.” The director advised. I shifted my gaze back at ‘Krishn’, trying to evoke the ‘Radha’ in me. Much against my will, I decided to use his trick, hoping it would calm my nerves. I slowly closed my eyes, trying to think of the one thing that gave me peace. I rummaged through my soul to reconnect to my character. I took a deep breath, allowing its soothing effect to settle to the pit of my stomach. Fluttering my eyelids open, I looked at the person standing in front of me, not from Mallika’s perspective, but through Radha’s adoration-filled gaze. 

We exchanged dialogues in Ancient Hindi, our softest conversation yet, until it was time to paint each other in our ‘eternal love’. Timidly, I looked at him as his hand raised towards my cheek, taking in some powdered color from my hand and rubbing it on one cheek. His eyes lingered onto mine, so did his hand on my cheek. My insides erupted in tingles; unable to decipher the reason behind this newfound nervousness. I was the confident, care-free one, not the shy types. Crediting my character behind the change of emotions, I delved into his ocean-like orbs, trying to comprehend more than the words he spat in rage. There was a flicker of guilt, anguish, longingness. But they left as soon as they came, leaving me confused. Everything succumbed under the love-filled gaze he held for Radha, reminding me of the reality. 

Taking some color from my hand, I cautiously touched his face, his light stubble instantly tickling my palm. My smile widened to a toothed grin as I continued to caress, stroking his face with the color on my hand. 

“Cut! Much better.” The director yelled as the cameras came to a halt and the surrounding lights turned off, making way for the regular commotion. 

I soon retreated my steps, maintaining the distance between us as I brushed the remaining color off my hands, attempting to eliminate the memory and its associated sensations. 

“Guys, this was much better.” Arihant Sir complimented, walking towards us. 

“Though you still need to work on your chemistry. This was good, but there is still this awkwardness between you two that can easily be spotted on the camera. Krishn and Radha immersed themselves into each other’s love. They became an idol for many. You both need to work on maintaining that and bringing their magic to life.” He explained, to which we nodded, sparing each other occasional stares. 

“I’ll see you both tomorrow, then. Pack up, guys!” He announced as many sighed in relief. It had been a long day indeed.

I had turned to leave, the usual headache knocking in once again. 

“Listen.” A familiar voice called out, making me turn. 

“What?!” I frowned.

“Are you always like this? Grumpy?” He asked, a slow smirk forming on his face. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Sumedh. I’ve had a long day, so can we please just--” 

“Exactly my point.” His placating tone caught my attention. He barely spoke gently. 

Sumedh continued, “My work means a lot to me. I’m sure it’s important for you too. So what I was suggesting is that...um..I was thinking--” 

“Will you speak up, now?” I barked. 

“Will you let me speak?” He gritted through his teeth before composing himself. 

“Since work is important for us, therefore the chemistry between us is too. Let’s try to be cordial with each other.” 

My jaw dropped at his suggestion, “Wait, so you’re suggesting--”

“A ceasefire. Let’s try not to meddle in each other’s businesses and just be professional.”

“That means no more of your judgmental remarks.” I warned, showing him my index finger. 

He reciprocated, “And none of your forwardness. Don’t try to ‘get to know me’.” 

“Fine.” I scowled. 

“So, it's a deal?” He asked, extending his hand for a handshake.

“Deal. All for the show.” I shook his hand, as if sealing a business proposal. 

What surprised me was the way his hand tightened around mine, as if assuring safety. 

But what scared me more was what he said next, instantly realizing it was the first time he had addressed me, 

“All for the show. Nice to meet you, Mallika.”