I am a master in India

Chapter 148 is progressing well.
Raj really likes Juhu, especially its beaches.

He didn't mind spending the whole afternoon by the pool at the Risha Hotel, especially since he didn't have to pay for the vodka and chicken sandwiches himself.

He wasn't freeloading; Raj paid for his meals and drinks by selling other people's stories, and still had plenty left over.

As his friend Schiff Kulma described him, Raj is "the god of the struggler."

His status as a columnist for Screen magazine gave him unrestricted access to Bollywood.

He was a messenger between two worlds, a conduit connecting the upper class and the lower class of Mumbai.

Judging solely by his appearance, Raj is far from being imposing; in fact, he appears crude and sleazy.

He had a thick beard, never properly buttoned his shirt, and looked like a slovenly smuggler. His cross-eyed appearance was also quite unlikable.

When he looks at you, you have no idea where he is looking.

But Raj's writing is superb. As the saying goes, you can't judge a book by its cover. His columns are like sermons, full of a sacred sense of mission and a noble moral compass.

When Shiv Kurma brought Ron and the others to him, Raj was chatting enthusiastically with the waiter.

“Raji, you’re telling other people a lie again.” Schiff sat down and poured himself a glass of wine without ceremony.

“How can you call it a scam?” Raj pointed to the waiter who had just left. “That man has a lot of stories to tell, and he’s always ready to share them with someone.”

"So what did you hear?"

"A failed declaration of a dreamer, but there are countless others in Mumbai who are in similar circumstances."

"You talk so much you could write a whole report. Let me introduce you to two friends."

Schiff wanted to introduce Ron and Mary, but Raj stood up to greet them instead.

"Dr. Sue, I've heard so much about you. Miss Mary, the first foreign talent agency in Bollywood."

“Hello.” Ron and Mary shook hands with him respectively.

The group sat down, and after obtaining Ron's consent, Schiff handed the script to Raj.

"Look at this."

"Oh, a religious film."

Raj is very knowledgeable about low-budget films and the Shudras and Dalits who make them. Flipping through the Screen magazine in his hand, you can see promotional brochures for low-budget films everywhere.

Yes, it's usually the untouchables who make adult films. Religious films are slightly better, but Raj is still surprised that Ron would dedicate himself to this career.

"The script is fine. People in North India and Central India will like it. In those regions, this kind of film often sells better than blockbusters."

However, Mr. Su, with your status, you could easily invest in those blockbuster films.

“I’m new to this,” Ron shrugged, “and low-budget films are easier to control.”

Raj understood; that was indeed the case. When it came to investing in big-budget films, Ron was merely a shareholder, having no decision-making power over the film's production.

But the truth is that Ron didn't have that much money to squander; Mary and the others had already done their research.

Filming a blockbuster in Bollywood starts at a minimum of 40 million rupees, with super blockbusters exceeding 100 million rupees.

A medium-budget film typically has an investment of around 30 million rupees, while films with an investment of less than 10 million rupees are considered low-budget films.

Where would Ron get so much money to invest in a blockbuster? He wouldn't even be able to get on the table without spending tens of millions of rupees.

“How much budget do you have?” Raj asked.

"Three million rupees."

"Where was it filmed?"

"Uttar Pradesh".

"If that's the case, it'll barely be enough." Raj was experienced; he had already mentally calculated the expenses.

"So, regarding the male lead, do you have any recommendations?" Schiff asked respectfully.

His relationship with Raj was complicated; the latter was his mentor and friend.

Schiff was originally a struggling artist who came to Mumbai, and Raj sponsored his university education.

After graduating, Schiff first worked as a production assistant before becoming a director.

“Bollywood has no shortage of male leads. No matter the price, there are hundreds or even thousands of people waiting.” Raj has dealt with countless Bollywood aspirants.

“Our budget is limited, so…” Ron pretended to be hesitant.

"Don't worry, the pay won't exceed one lak," Raj assured him.

As Schiff said, he is a protector of those who strive.

The term "struggler" refers to someone who aspires to make a name for themselves in Bollywood, someone whose ambitions are sky-high but whose fate is as fragile as paper.

Especially for female entrepreneurs, out of a hundred actresses who come to Mumbai to try their luck, no more than ten will actually succeed.

The audition took place at the Risha Hotel behind them, which Ali preferred to call the "Suicide Hotel".

Because actresses, unable to bear the blow of being rejected again and again, would sometimes commit suicide in their hotel rooms.

Ron was incredibly lucky to have been so obsequious to Rita and Gita when he had dinner with Chandra and the others last time.

Among these hundreds of Bollywood workers, some have played minor roles and others have played supporting roles.

Finding an experienced and reasonably good-looking male lead isn't difficult; Raj can easily name five or six.

“I’ll have them audition for you guys later,” Raj reassured them, “the important thing is the release of the film after it’s finished.”

“I’m planning to ask Director Ral to introduce me to some distributors,” Ron replied. “That would be best, but don’t be too optimistic about low-budget films.”

"How do you say it?" he asked.

“Censorship is a problem; if those big theaters can’t screen the film, distributors won’t take it on.”

"If all else fails, we can issue it in different regions. For those states with strict censorship, we can just sell the one-time issuance rights."

Indian films are distributed in five regions within India, and there is another region specifically for all overseas markets.

These five distribution areas are roughly divided according to geographical location: east, west, south, north, and center, and each market is different.

North and Central India speak Hindi, East India speaks Bengali and Assamese, South India speaks Tamil and Telugu, and West India primarily speaks Marathi.

Ron and his team are making Hindi films, primarily targeting the North and Central Indian markets. They can sell the distribution rights to other regions on a one-off basis.

Even though they speak different languages, they don't earn much even if they take the box office revenue sharing route.

“This is a good approach. It seems the focus is on North India,” Raj agreed.

“I am from Uttar Pradesh,” Ron said, shrugging.

“Then there’s no problem at all.” Raj had no doubt about his abilities in the area.

"I'll need your help with the publicity after the film is made." Ron glanced at the Screen magazine beside him.

Raj laughed, "I'll personally write it then."

“Thank you so much.” Ron and Mary were both very happy.

In just one week, they finalized the script, director, female lead, and subsequent distribution and promotion strategy.

It seems the male lead has also been identified, and the entire film's preparation is progressing at an astonishing pace.

Back at the agency, they called in screenwriter Ravi and began discussing script details again.

The story is very clichéd. It takes place in a rural area, where there are two brothers from a wealthy family. The younger brother's wife is shrewish and domineering, while the older brother's wife is virtuous and kind. The younger brother dreams of going to America.

One day, a wandering monk passed through the village and sang the praises of Dikina. Inspired, the villagers all came to worship the goddess, including the younger brother.

The goddess answered his prayer, and a telegram immediately came from the US headquarters saying that there was a vacancy.

The virtuous and kind-hearted sister-in-law then sold her dowry to buy plane tickets to America for her brother and his wife and children.

Years later, the family, whose every word and action had become Westernized, returned from the United States, sending a suitcase full of money in an attempt to save the brother's struggling business in their hometown.

But as is often the case with checked-in valuables, their luggage was lost by the airline. A bolt from the blue!
The story begins here, depicting various scenes of the male and female protagonists fighting against evil forces by relying on the miraculous intervention of Durga.

If I had to sum up the script in one word, it would be rubbish.

What miraculous appearances, what devout prayers—it's utterly absurd.

If this were in another country, people would probably just treat it as a myth or a legend and laugh it off.

But Indians believe in this; they genuinely believe in the existence of Durga.

Therefore, the story must not only have a dramatic plot, but also reflect respect for and faith in mythological figures.

However, the ultimate goal of making movies is to make money.

“The title ‘Praise to the Mother of Inaccessibility’ is too serious and not entertaining enough,” Ron suggested.

“But we’re making religious films,” Mary said with some doubt.

“You can give the movie different names depending on the region,” Schiff suggested.

“Wow, that’s a great idea.” Ron’s eyes lit up.

He almost forgot that this is another routine practice for Indian films, because of language differences and different cultural customs in different states, the same film may have different translated titles.

After discussing it for a while, the group decided to give the movie three names.

In rural areas, it's called "Praise to the Inaccessible Mother." In urban areas like Mumbai, it becomes "Foreign Mother-in-Law, Local Wife."

In Sikh regions like Punjab, they simply changed the title to "A Miracle from Heaven."

This makes it much more relatable, allowing audiences from different regions to find something they like.

Besides these, there is another major core aspect to the film's preparation.

That's music, even though it's a low-budget religious film.

But we definitely have to include singing and dancing, otherwise who will watch?
In rural India, where most people are illiterate, they feel they're missing out if there isn't a lively song and dance performance.

They might not understand complex storylines, but they certainly can with song and dance.

Initial estimates suggest that Ron's movie will also need 5 songs and 3 musical numbers.

This requires professionals; relying on the ideas of a few individuals is simply not feasible.

Ron planned to bother old Ral again, and Mary and Schiff would also invite other Bollywood music directors.

They split up and worked towards resolving the issue within two weeks.

June has arrived, and somber rainy clouds are brewing over Mumbai.

With torrential rain threatening to fall at any moment, the restless city finally quieted down slightly.

However, there was some good news for Ron as well.

The payment from Suer Electric Appliances for last month is about to arrive.

(End of this chapter)