I am a master in India

Chapter 150 The Magic of Bollywood
For Raj, movies are always closely associated with love and death.

Some, encouraged by their families, persevered in Bollywood. Others, disheartened, committed suicide silently.

When Raj was a child, whenever an important person passed away, the school would give them a day off so they could go to the cinema to watch a movie.

Raj's home is in the East Antares district, not far from the Juhu district. Many struggling, unknown entertainers rent rooms there.

In the past, extras would boast to them, "We're from Bollywood."

As a child, Raj was easily impressed by the boastful talk of those who worked hard, but when he grew up and learned that these people were "just migrant workers," he was particularly disillusioned.

He now often sees these people in bars in Antalya, such as the illegally operated Yari Road Winery and Urwash Beer Bar.

They still sit behind the dirty curtains, drinking nine-rupee bottles of Desi wine, dreaming of conquering the world.

They boasted to their fellow drinkers, who were also struggling to make ends meet, "I'm going to be filming a movie with Amit Bachchan tomorrow."

Raj was deeply amazed by their ability to report only good news and not bad news for so many years; you would rarely hear about their misfortunes.

Those who managed to make a decent living stayed at a few fixed hotels, which were said to bring good luck.

Their daily simple meal consists of a platter for eight rupees, containing rice, six puddings or two chapati, plus a spoonful of lentil paste.

If the restaurant is particularly generous, they might give you a small dish of thin yogurt and two spoonfuls of vegetables. If you find the right place to eat, you won't have to worry about nutritional imbalances.

If the owner is in a good mood, he might even give away dessert. For struggling extras, the old man's restaurant is the best choice; for twenty rupees, they can have a delicious meal of rice with their hands.

Raj introduced Ron and the others to a male protagonist who lived nearby. He was a true hard worker named Ranka.

Sri Lanka is not actually a true Indian; he is an overseas Indian immigrant whose family immigrated to Dubai when he was a child.

His family runs a fabric business there, earning 7 rupees a month; they are a truly wealthy family.

However, after the Gulf War, business became sluggish, so he thought about going back to Mumbai to try his luck.

He had dreamed of becoming a movie lead actor since he was sixteen, and in his spare time he would repeatedly examine the star illustrations in "Screen".

Soon after, his uncle, who worked in advertising in Mumbai, secured him a modeling opportunity. Lanka took a set of photos and earned eight hundred rupees.

For a Jaipur teenager, the 800 rupees meant far more than its purchasing power.

Two years ago in Dubai, the supermarket owner next to his fabric store told Lanka, "This store is just a rest stop for you. You can stop here for a while and then continue on your way. Your destination is not here. One day you will achieve great things."

The seed in his heart finally began to sprout, and Sri Lanka left Dubai for Mumbai alone.

He carried money with him and attended various training classes, such as dance classes, martial arts classes, and performing arts classes.

The tuition for the dance class is 1,000 rupees per month, the martial arts class is 5,000 rupees for three months, and the performing arts class is 15,000 rupees.

The martial arts class teaches Taekwondo. The instructor takes the students to the beach and teaches them martial arts techniques from movies, such as how to leap, roll on the spot, and swing their arms to throw punches.

Lanka had always assumed that Roshan, the instructor of the martial arts class, treated him differently because he had made Lanka his assistant for the first year.

Although it was an obligation, Lanka was still very honored.

He received offers for low-budget films and television series, but Lanka had a clear goal: to be the male lead in a Bollywood blockbuster.

He persisted for a year, but gradually, the offers for low-budget films and TV series disappeared.

With little of the 200,000 rupees he brought from Dubai remaining, he moved from a single hotel room to a one-room apartment in Antares, where he shared a room with thirteen other people.

Later, Lanka indeed met a producer who promised to cast him as the male lead in the next movie.

Every two months, Lanka would ask the producers how the film was progressing, and he would always be told that they were "still looking for a director."

The director failed to find a suitable role, but Lanka stopped actively seeking other roles, firmly believing that the opportunity to turn things around was just around the corner.

He waited for more than half a year, during which time he lost all other performance contracts.

Sri Lanka was somewhat disheartened, and his family and friends advised him to give up the idea as soon as possible and return to Dubai to do fabric business in a down-to-earth manner.

After careful consideration, Lanka decided to stay in Mumbai. He knew that once he left, he would never be able to return.

That's just how reality is; no matter how humble you are, life will make you even more humble.

After two years of wasted time, Lanka is now finding it difficult to even land a minor role in a TV series, a role he once looked down upon.

Nevertheless, Lanka still goes to the gym or runs outdoors every morning to maintain his physique, or at least to look fit.

He always puts a lot of effort into his clothing choices, and then updates his outfits with a new set of professional photos every week.

He carried these photos with him so he could submit them when he went to the offices of various producers.

Lanka was well aware of the fate of his photograph; after all, there were countless people like him who went in and out of offices, shamelessly trying to make a living.

But having the photo included in the album, and being selected for the album, is the first step for someone striving in the entertainment industry, and he has to do it.

To be honest, Lanka wasn't sure when he would get the attention of a production company.

One of the main reasons he persevered was that he comforted himself when he failed by telling himself that he had tried.

Yes, his family in Dubai is urging him to go back, and his brother is even planning to come to Mumbai next month.

Raj asked Sri Lanka if he had considered returning to Dubai.

“I still love India.” He spoke as if he were a guilty husband admitting to infidelity to his wife. Lanka didn’t know if he was wavering; he dared not think about it too deeply, and could only keep himself busy by working out, attending acting classes, and sending out photoshoots.

Then one ordinary afternoon, Raj called to tell him that there was an audition for the male lead in a low-budget film.

At that moment, Lanka was both surprised and delighted, at a loss for words.

He immediately started daydreaming, imagining how he would act when the script supervisor claps the clapperboard and the director says "Action!"

Lanka used to scoff at these low-budget films, but after being battered by life, he learned to be humble.

Almost immediately, he began to tidy himself up and made thorough preparations before setting off in his dilapidated ambassador car.

The car has a large rust spot on the hood and the doors creak when they close, but Sri Lanka still pays to maintain the car.

After two years of working his way up in Bollywood, he was already familiar with every unspoken rule of the place.

To get into a film production company, you first need a car; the security guards will not only let you in, but will also salute you.

If you take a taxi, the security guard will make you turn around. If you take a pedicab, he'll interrogate you endlessly. If you simply walk, forget about getting into the company gate.

When Sri Lanka was in Dubai, people called him "boss". But in Mumbai, he addressed people as "sir".

For those who strive, this is life; you have to learn to flatter and fawn.

When the ambassador's car with the tatami sound arrived at the address Raj had given him, Sri Lanka hesitated.

Red Sausage Brokerage Company?
Why not a production company? His first audition was conducted at an agency.

Despite this thought, Lanka still honked the horn.

The drowsy security guard was jolted awake. He instinctively raised his hand in salute and then waved for them to pass.

Sri Lanka parked his car, grabbed the printed sheets of paper, and strode upstairs.

Upon entering the room, he saw several people sitting there, seemingly discussing the script.

To his surprise, there were two very young foreign women present. Judging from their seating positions, they seemed to hold a high social status.

Lanka greeted them and obediently sat down. Across from him, Ron and the others were also sizing up this inexperienced young man.

He was dressed fashionably, wearing earrings and a gold teddy bear pendant around his neck, and looked radiant.

It's obvious that the other person exercises regularly and maintains a very good physique.

Ron didn't say anything, but instead gave the spotlight to Schiff Kumar, who was the director of the film.

The audition went smoothly; Schiff and Mary each had Lanka perform a line, a dance, a martial arts routine, and a song.

Overall, it's very good, at least more reliable than the previous ones.

"Ode to the Mother" features action, song and dance, and a theme song. With a limited budget, the male lead is required to handle multiple roles on his own.

Coincidentally, these Sri Lankans had all attended the relevant training courses. Whether they were professional or not is another matter, but at least they could demonstrate a few skills.

Having many skills is never a bad thing, and Bollywood also values ​​this.

“You’ve been chosen,” Ron announced bluntly.

"Sir, I...I..." Lanka stammered. He had anticipated this scene, but he didn't expect it to happen so soon.

“The film has a limited budget, and your salary is 16,000 rupees. Is that alright?” Ron asked.

"No problem!" Lanka said decisively.

"The crew will be heading to Uttar Pradesh in a week. The filming period is expected to be forty-five days. Pack your things," Director Schiff ordered directly.

"Okay!" Lanka readily agreed.

“The payment will be made after the film is released. During filming, apart from food and accommodation, everything else is the responsibility of the actor,” Mary added.

"Okay." Lanka still had no objections.

This is one of Bollywood's unspoken rules: before a film is released, salary is not discussed.

If the film is a box office hit, then everything will be fine. If it's a box office flop, then Sri Lanka's salary will be zero rupees.

Yes, that's how the amazing Bollywood works.

Although Ron had just made a profit of 20 million rupees, he kept things separate.

He treated both a business worth ten rupees and a business worth one hundred thousand rupees with the same dedication and impartiality.

The lead actress, Urmila Madonka, is somewhat well-known, and her salary is 200,000 rupees.

If someone takes the lion's share, then naturally someone else takes the smaller share, since actors' salaries are fixed and only account for a certain percentage.

The remaining money must be spent wisely, otherwise it will be difficult to guarantee the completion of the film.

The film crew's preparations are nearing completion, and Ron is about to embark on his journey to Uttar Pradesh.

But before he left, he had to say goodbye to the women around him.

(End of this chapter)