One of the
most hierarchical places on planet earth surely has to be the Television Soap
opera industry. I will share with you some vignettes which I personally experienced
during the days, a few years back, when I was trying out my luck as an actor in
the big bad world of Bollywood and Television. I had a small role in that Mother-of-all-Serials,
‘Kahani Ghar Ghar Ki’ and here is an account of what all happened to me during
the shooting of that serial.
I walked in
freshly scrubbed, all keyed up for my role at Film city and near the Kahani set
I saw Parvati Bhabi alias Sakshi Tanwar dab some powder on her nose and look at
a hand held mirror held by what you call in Bambia lingo a ‘chappu’. So there I
was with my manners and missionary school education and in the fitness of
things I walked up to her and held my hand and said, “Hi Sakshi. My name is
Juggi Bhasin. I think I have a small scene with you in today’s shoot. It’s a pleasure
to make your acquaintance.”
Sakshi Tanwar looked at me as if I had touched
her in the wrong place, then she rolled her eyes and stormed in her makeup van.
A production assistant lounging nearby came running to me and adroitly guided
me to another make up van which I had to share with three other people.
“Juggi Sir
(the Sir bit added to all gents above 40 years of age) “it is best you stay in
your make up van and uh…avoid…uh interacting with the big stars…you understand
what I mean…your shot will be ready in five minutes, till then rehearse your
lines…”
Fine. I had
just learned my first lesson in the pecking order that I was at the bottom of
the food chain. No problems. I could not become a Boman Irani or an Anupam Kher
in just one day. But more revelations were to follow. Three other sidey actors
like me walked into the makeup van and they looked at me as if I was sitting in
the van smug just after having burgled their house. The senior most in that
group of three called the harassed production assistant and let loose.
“My space is
getting cramped…why don’t you put up newcomers in a separate place? Shift me to
another van immediately.” The production assistant looked at me helplessly and
I tried to make myself invisible in the van, but that not being successful, I
went out of the van, pretending that I had gone out for a smoke. I loitered out for some time and the five
minutes turned in a five hour wait.
Scenes were shot
not in continuity or according to a linear narrative but according to the
convenience of the big stars on the set. But the pecking order did not end
there. It extended to the makeup room and finally the lunch that was laid out
for the crew. The air conditioned make up room was obviously reserved for
Parvati Bhabi and her ilk while the lesser mortals like me had to do with a
quick dab on the face in the blazing sun outside. For lunch Parvati Bhabi
disappeared in her van and outside two tables were laid out and it was amply clear to everyone that one table
was reserved for the director and his cronies on the set and the other table
was reserved for the likes of you know who…
Finally late
at night my scene, in which I had a bit of interaction with Parvati Bhabi, came
up for the shoot. I keyed myself up; maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Parvati
Bhabi walked in like a queen and rattled of her lines in our so called interaction
without me being present in front of her!
That’s right
folks! The director substituted another person, Parvati Bhabi said her piece
and walked away and the director at twelve in the night called me and took my
cutaways and I spoke my lines to a wall! “Don’t worry,” said the Director. “We will
join them together later.”
I walked out
early morning from the set and resolved to stick to the business of writing rather
hope to become the next Boman Irani!
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