The Book

Vamini was not her real name. Her mother, the ambitious, .l~rasping Mrs Saxena, suddenly decided one couldn't go far in Bollywood with a name like Anju.It sounded, she said peevishly, like the name of an extra, a being of no consequence. Now, the name Kamini brought to mind images of a nubile nymphet, an object of desire. It was not a very original choice, there had been a Kamini Kaushal years ago, but originality was not Mrs Saxena's strong point. Her strength lay in her tenacity, in her fierce commitment to her dream. And the dream too was not so original. For weren't there countless other middle aged matrons chaperoning their daughters to countless studios in the hope of achieving stardom, fame amd fortune? Kamini had gone throught it all- the punishing crash sessions on Bharatnatyam and Kathak, aerobics, speech lessons, acting classes with Roshan Taneja. Her photographs, taken from flattering angles, were religiously sent to producers, directors and talent scouts.

It was Billy Bawra, who had signed her up for her first role. She played the hero's sister who gets raped and dies. It was the turning point of the film, which marked the transition of a happy go lucky hero to a gun running outlaw. The film ran to packed houses but Kamini was barely noticed. Except by a couple of directors who contacted Mrs Saxena with offers of similar sister roles. Mrs Saxena put her foot down. Her darling baby was ordained for greater things. No more sister roles for her.

Then a plum role fell into her lap. The offer came from hot shot director Moolchand Mathur. It was a big budget venture that promised plenty of thrills. And Kamini was cast opposite Raman Khanna, the brawny hearthrob of a million college girls. Mrs Saxena was jubilant. She distibuted pedas to all the tenants of the building at Peddar Road where they had a flat. Flush with the signing amount given to her by Moolchand Mathur's secretary. Mrs Saxena went overboard in dolling up her darling goose Kamini who had just laid a golden egg. She bought zari saris from Kachins, glittering lehenga-cholis from Roopml1an, Senorita shoes, imported perfumes. A day before the first day's shooting Mrs Saxena marched her daughter to the beauty parlour at Leela Kempinski. Kamini sat demurely as her hair was permed, her eyebrows teased, her face smothered with special fruit packs, her body massaged, her toes and nails painted and she was finally immersed in a bubble bath.

"The first sign of a true star" said Mrs Saxena. as they were speeding away towards the studio on the day of shooting. "Is to keep people waiting for you." Kamini just nodded dumbly. There was a wild fluttering at the pit of her stomach. She kept on clenching and unclenching her hands. The previous night her mother had not allowed her to read the script saying she would get dark circles under her eyes. Now she was convinced that the last trace of her confidence would vanish once she was in front of the great Raman Khanna.

Mrs Saxena bade the taxi driver stop some distance away from the studio gates. She vowed to ask for a car for her star beti from the producer.

kamini and her mother walked into a set buzzing with activity. Unit hands were lugging heavy equipment. About forty women in identical canary yellow ghagras and cholis milled around. There were flowers in their hair and their tinsel ornaments glittered and flashed and their anklets jingled as they moved. Forty male dancers in scarlet dhotis and white turbans were standing about, their bare chests glistening with oil and sweat. Colourful buntings criss-crossed the enormous set. Hay ricks were placed in two identical rows. Enormous brass thalis heaped with co loured gulal were arranged on the floor.

Director Moo1chand Mathur was a roly poly man in his early fifties.

A hat with beads hanging on its sides effectively covered his bald pate. He was dressed in a beige kurta that was too tight for him and a pair of faded blue jeans.

"Kamini!" he beamed at his new star. "You are late, sweetie." "You'll have to arrange a car for us Moolchandji" Mrs Saxena broke in smoothly. "Taxis are not at all reliable."

"Or course, of course." Mathur ran his eyes over Kamini. He shook his head. "What have you done to your hair, baby? It is looking like burnt wire."

"It's the latest fashion ." Mrs Saxena's tone was frigid.

Moo1chand guffawed, "I know, I know. All those MTV Veejays are doing it . Looks like a bee hive. Kamini sweetie, you are playing a seedha sadha village girl, a true Bharatiya nari. And in today's shot you are playing a widow .... "

"What, a widow?" Mrs Saxena did not sound too happy.

"Why, didn't you read the script...Kamini is the beautiful unfortunate daughter of a poor schoolmaster. She is married off but her husband dies before the suhag raat. Her in-laws chase her out of the house. Her father dies of shock. She is left all alone in the world ... " eXplained Moo1chand Mathur.

"My beti has not even been married ... "Mrs Saxena put in lamely.

"How will she playa widow .... ?"

"Look Bahenji," Moolchand Mathur said affably. "Meena Kumariji was not a tawaif. But she played one in Pakeezah, right? Then Seema Biswas is not a dacoit. But she played one in Bandit Queen. How? By imagination, Bahenj i, Kalpana ... "

Just then there was an excited murmur. Raman Khanna had emerged from his dressing room and was striding towards them. Three hangers on scurried by his side, one holding a mirror, another a portable chair and the third a glass of nimbu pani. Raman Khanna was of medium height. Glittering blue black hair fell in soft curls at the nape of his neck. He had brown eyes, a full, sensuous mouth and a clipped moustache. He was dressed in a shocking pink kurta, a parrot green silk dhoti and purple waistcoat. A red bandana was tied round his head.

"Ramanji." Moolchand Mathur enveloped the hero in a bear hug.

"Meet your co-star Miss Kamini."

Before Kamini could join her hands in a meek namaste Raman Khanna, the eternal lover boy lifted her hand to his mouth, brushed his lips on her fingers and looked deep into her eyes. And within a few seconds Kamini's heart did dizzy somersaults. Rainbows danced before her eyes, fountains spouted, birds sang and everything was in technicolour. Ah, the malady of first love!

Raman Khanna, the Lothario of a thousand conquests, felt his senses tingle in pleasurable anticipation. Kamini's luminous eyes, the rosebud lips, the shy delicacy turned him on. She was gorgeous and the best thing was, she did not know it... ...

soon Kamini was hustled to her dressing room and Mrs . Saxena followed her there, determined to be in the thick of it.

Kamini's permed hair was thoroughly oiled and scrunched up into a bun. The last traces of her make-up was removed.

"At least let her put on some light shade lipstick" pleaded Mrs Saxena. "She is looking like a ghost."

The make-up artist Sally D'Souza was an ample bosomed Goanese who rolled her eyes as she talked.

"No lipstick", she informed. "Director's instructions."

Half an hour later Kamini emerged in a voluminous white sari, her face scrubbed of all make-up. There was a flurry of activity. Raman Khanna was handed a dafli and he stood in the centre of the huge set, the dafli held close to his face with his left hand, the fmgers of his right

hand ready to play on it.

"Ready for take?" "Okay."

"Focus?"

"Five feet eleven inches and a half." "Change the lens. I want a seventy five." "Sound, ready?"

"Silence, silence .... We are shooting." "Lights on."

"Music."

Kamini's job was to stand beside an unyoked bullock cart and look at the scene with a sad expression on her face. As the song progressed, there were to be several long shots and close-ups of Kamini standing alone by the cart. At first Moolchand Mathur was not happy at the way Kamini looked. He went into a huddle with the costume assistant. At the end of it the costume assistant Dina Dinshaw took Kamini to the dressing room and gave her a padded blouse. While Kamini unwillingly fastened it on, Dina Dinshaw loquaciously went on and one about how the public loved big boobs and how the great showman Raj Kapoorji had a weakness for them, how big boobs could made or break a film ...

"And Miss Kamini, I was the one who was allowed to shape the

heroine's boobs in the choli ke peeche kya hainfilm "

A more well-endowed Kamini took up position again. Moolchand

"Cut!" "Cut!" "Cut!"

"Kamini baby, look sad, empty .... your pati parmeswar has gone to the other world ..... you are like that cart without the ox ... "

At this Kamini burst into a paroxysm of giggles. The dancers were getting restless. Lunch break was called. Raman Khanna walked up to Kamini.

"Come with me, baby," he said."I'll give you some lessons in acting."

He took Kamini to his dressing room. Mrs Saxena thought it wise not to intrude and sat near the director.

Raman Khanna and Kamini were alone in the dressing room. He poured whisky into two glasses and urged her to drink it up. It would do her a lot of good. She sipped unwillingly, overawed by his pres ­ence. Soon a warm glow suffused her being. They talked animatedly, she of her college days, her first film, her pet poodle. He talked of his many hits, his fans, the challenges of acting, caressing her all the while with his eyes.

Shooting resumed again. This time Kamini got her expression right.

A tear rolled down her cheek. Her lower lip trembled. The music rose to a crescendo. Now came the most important part of the scene. Fling ­ing his dafliaside Raman Khanna picked up red gulal from a brass dish and moved in slow motion towards Kamini. In one fluid move­ment he smeared red gulal in the parting of her hair. This was the cru­cial scene of Mohabbat ki Jung. Moolchand was ecstatic. Raman Khanna ked Kamini to the centre of the set. The dancers swayed around them, in perfect synchronisation. The hero and the heroine were re­quired to look deep into each others eyes. Now Raman Khanna was pleasantly intoxicated. And thanks to him, so was Kamini. All of a sudden he lifted her chin and kissed her on her lips. Her mouth was sweet and warm. They clung together, mouths joined, arms entwined,

oblivious to the world.

"Cut, Cut!" yelled Moolchand, breaking into a cold sweat over what the Censors would do if they saw the scene. What was Raman Khanna up to? The kiss was not in the script.

Pandemonium broke 100se.·Mrs Saxena rushed up and pulled Kamini away.

Moo1chand tugged at Raman Khanna's kurta. The unit hands nudged and winked.

The dancers sniggered.

A fi 1m reporter who was present rushed off to file a story. Randy Raman kisses cute Kamini!

Shooting was cancelled for the day.

Kamini went home with her furious mother and waited eagerly for the next days shooting. Meanwhile at Raman Khanna's Pali Hill bungalow, there was a royal hungama. His wife had come to know what had happened and threatened to divorce him if he acted with Kamini again. Raman Khanna went down on his knees. Not because he loved his wife but because her father was the producer of Mohabbat ki Jung. Moolchand Mathur was contacted. At midnight Mathur's secretary made a phone call to the Saxena household. Kamini was not required to come for the next day's shooting. Yes, she was being dropped.

Kamini did not get any more roles. She reverted to her old name Anju and got married to a garment export dealer, some months later. She had three children in quick succession and grew fat and complacent. Only once every year as Holi came and her children played with gulal, she remembered Raman Khanna's warm, eager mouth on hers and a strange restlessness seized her. .... a yearning for what might have been and would never be .....