Folly in Bollywood: How a director finds nirvana in the city of dreams

But this is just another day in my life. It was so hot and sultry outside that the kid selling Vogue and Cosmopolitan continued squatting below the traffic signal post. He raised his eyebrows. I shook my head. Indians communicate by conserving energy.

Status update

I didn’t want to be seen in the office of S (since Bollywood is an unforgiving world let's call the producer that) before my appointed time. It would mean that I was not a busy director. So I sat in my car and took out my Blackberry. My driver thought I was busy. I pressed the Facebook icon and saw that all my friends had updated their status.

I pursed my lips and thought about what my mom had often told me during my childhood. If you study well you will have an enviable status in life. She didn’t realize that one day the word 'status' would mean someone posting "My dog is horny. Need a good loving bitch." How do I explain to my mom that these days people find dogs fornicating enviable?

When I walked in at the dot for my appointment, I was told that S would take another 15 minutes to meet me. "What would you like to have," his secretary asked me. "A movie to direct please," I quipped. She said, "Sorry, I didn’t understand. Do you want tea or a cold drink?"

Story of my life.

I waited looking at the newspaper that I had read in the morning. I saw people rushing by. I have realized that in Mumbai people rush by for two reasons. One, when they have a purpose in life. Two, when they have no purpose in life.

Get me ten people in the street who want to see a film having him as the hero and I will give him that money.

S had released an unconventional Bollywood love story a month ago. The movie was critically acclaimed and had done decent business at the box office.

I had directed a film recently, "Accident On Hill Road". It had sunk at the box office. Critics had torn it apart. That’s what I had SMSed S when I asked for an appointment.

His response was "Relax, u made film in tight budget, ur prod is happy!"

So here I was at his office, relaxing, when his secretary popped in, smiled and said, “Sorry sir, S will take another 15 minutes. He is on an unexpected call.”

I smiled like a Bodhisattva, took out my Blackberry and looked at it. The network wasn’t good enough for me to surf the Net. Hmmm, who should I call? After scrolling down the contact list, I realized I had nothing to say, so why call anyone?

When it takes eight years for you to make your first movie, you cannot complain of a hectic life in India’s biggest metro. I realized everybody was rushing around to and from work while I waited for my own work to start. I felt like that befuddled chap standing in the balcony in the Smirnoff commercial. The crowd was waving at me to join them. Unfortunately, I was blind. 

Relax, it's a long ride

It is not a physical rush that people like me in Bollywood have to contend with. It is the mental fatigue of being ambitious. How can I convince the producer sitting across to invest a million dollars in my film when he doesn’t read scripts? How do I respond to the actor who tells me that while the role we are discussing is fabulous, he’d rather do the crappy ones in multi-starrers because they are publicized well?

Mumbai is often described as the city of dreams. Ironically, the first thing you learn as a film-maker here is to accept rejection. Your attitude, experience, idea, skill is so often rejected that you either have to be an imbecile or a rhino in heat trying to achieve what you so desperately want. And what makes it worse is that the person who rejects you need not be qualified for the job. It could be your neighbour who has made so much money in the real estate boom that he wants to produce a "hatke" (different) film -- 30 minutes after rejecting your story the nincompoop will sheepishly admit he has no idea what a "hatke" film even is.

My thoughts were rudely interrupted by a beep on my phone. It was a gentle reminder from my bank that my home EMI (mortgage) was due in a fortnight. When you see such messages in your inbox and are not perturbed you have cracked the Nirvana code in Bollywood.

Finally S called me in. So who are the actors you have got? I named an actor who was part of an ensemble cast of Bollywood’s biggest grosser recently. "Do you know how much money he is asking for now?" asked S. Rs1.5 crore, I replied.  "Get me ten people in the street who want to see a film having him as the hero and I will give him that money."

Make your own hope

Over the next one hour, S demolished all the names that I could throw up. He rejected every single theory I could muster -- how my film could be made in a tight budget, how the story would be unique, etcetera.

When I told him that people come to watch a good movie not stars, he retorted that there are 100-odd films in the cans, with these very actors that are finding no buyers for distribution.

I told him that if I had stars like the Khans (Shahrukh, Aamir, Salman, Saif) or Bachchans or Hritik Roshan or Akshay Kumar, I wouldn’t have come to him. He would have come to me. S nodded vigorously.

When I pointed out his own film was successful without any big stars featuring in it, he said the movie opened well because it was co-produced by an acclaimed director.

S finally smiled and said, "If you can convince me how you will rope in an audience for the first weekend to watch your film, I will produce it." As I got up to leave, I looked at the poster of his film that had just released. I threw a filmy Frisbee. What if I get Abhay Deol, Lara Dutta and Konkana Sen for the main roles?

We are on, S grinned. Do that and then we will discuss your story.

Now here’s the question I ask you: After being badgered for one hour should I feel rejected? Or should I feel hopeful?

I am now waiting to meet the actors one by one. How do you relax when you don’t lead a hectic life?