Day Eight: Flying Home
Jezmeen grinned into her pocket mirror to check her teeth for lipstick stains. She tucked her hair behind her ears, decided it looked too bookish, tossed her hair, decided it looked too messy, and then checked her teeth again. This time there was a tiny red smudge on her incisor. “I can’t do this,” she declared, dropping the pocket mirror into her lap.
“You can,” Rajni assured her from the front seat of the car. “Did you visualize the best possible outcome?” This was one of the self-help tactics Rajni had found in a quick internet search on her phone. “Or how about this one: Top Ten Mantras for Success.”
The GPS on Tom Hanks’s dashboard indicated that they were five minutes away. On the entire ride from Chandigarh to Delhi, Jezmeen wondered if they were doing the right thing. HC Kumar hadn’t bothered getting back to Cameron about an alternative time to meet, so maybe he had moved on to another actress, somebody more reliable.
“What if he saw the Arowana video and he’s decided that I’m a scumbag?” Jezmeen asked.
“He probably set up that meeting in spite of the video,” Shirina reminded her. “Everybody’s seen it by now, so it’s a good sign that he wants to meet you regardless.”
“Wanted to,” Jezmeen corrected. “Then I didn’t show up and now he’s like, ‘That’s what I get for giving a chance to a fish murderer.’ ”
“That’s not what he’s saying,” Shirina said calmly. “Oh!” She grabbed Jezmeen’s hand and placed it on her belly. A moment passed, and then there was a tiny bump against Jezmeen’s palm. “She’s wishing you good luck.”
“Thanks, little lady,” Jezmeen cooed.
“Isn’t it ‘Break a leg’?” Rajni asked.
“That’s theater,” Shirina said. “Or can it be used for film?”
“Not sure,” Rajni said. “It’s a funny thing to say in any case, isn’t it?”
While Jezmeen appreciated that her sisters were trying to be encouraging and supportive, she was drowning in doubt. Last night, she couldn’t sleep, and it probably showed. She found herself scrolling through her IMDb page, clicking on all the little roles that she’d had, some so small that they didn’t link to a description. She was a passing body, just filling the background while the lights and cameras focused on bigger stars. Of course, then Jezmeen went where she had been repeatedly warned not to go—the comments under the original Arowana video. Although the furor had died down in recent days, some of the ugliest sentiments against her had still been “up-voted” to the top of the comments section. Can’t believe that there are people fleeing wars in other countries, and we have people like this in ours, one commenter had lamented. Another, to whom Jezmeen was tempted to respond with a string of expletives, had said: Looks like a publicity stunt—she’s probably desperate for attention. Bet the producers from that crap show of hers arranged the whole thing. Scrolling through a bottomless feed of other people’s unbridled opinions was as addictive as it was self-destructive. Jezmeen’s mind kept wandering back to Mum, and what she would have made of all this.
“I wish Mum had a little more faith in me,” Jezmeen told her sisters. “All I can think about is how she died thinking I still had a lot of growing up to do.”
“She probably thought that about all of us,” Rajni said. “A mother never stops thinking of her children as children.”
They didn’t say much else to each other until Tom Hanks announced that they were arriving at Connaught Place. At the sight of the Georgian columns and arched windows of the imperial-white buildings, Jezmeen’s stomach lurched. You’re ready for this. You’ve been waiting for this to happen for a long time.
“I need a minute,” Jezmeen said when they pulled up. Rajni and Shirina nodded and stepped out of the car. HC Kumar’s office was in a tall tower with tinted glass windows that dwarfed the historic shophouses. Jezmeen closed her eyes and tried to visualize the best possible outcome. She saw herself coming face-to-face with HC Kumar, and shaking his hand. He told her he was impressed with her and wanted her to be his new leading lady. Then he turned into a giant Arowana. Jezmeen’s eyes flew open. She looked out the window and watched Rajni and Shirina approaching the building. Whatever happened next, Jezmeen was grateful for her sisters, who had helped her to brainstorm ways to get into HC Kumar’s office.
The plan was to try to get past security by saying they had an appointment. If that didn’t work, Shirina was going to ask to use the toilets. Nobody would deny a pregnant woman access to the loos. Jezmeen would go with her, and they’d try to find HC Kumar’s office. It was not an airtight plan, and there was the possibility of many things going wrong, but Rajni and Shirina insisted that Jezmeen had to at least try. Jezmeen considered this the final effort of her career. Her plane would leave for London tonight, and if this didn’t work out, she would either continue searching for roles or start seriously thinking about a different career.
Jezmeen noticed Shirina waving her over, and she got out of the car. “I’ll be parked just over there,” Tom Hanks called, and not actually indicating where “there” was, he drove off down the wide avenue.
“The doors are locked. There’s an intercom,” Shirina said as Jezmeen approached. “Maybe you should talk to them.”
Jezmeen looked at the little box on the wall. There was a small camera that would magnify her face on the screen. She pressed the button for HC Kumar’s production company’s office and waited.
A voice buried in the heavy roar of static called, “Good afternoon, HC Productions.”
“Hi!” Jezmeen said. “I have an appointment with Mr. HC Kumar?” She shrugged at Shirina and Rajni, who gave her a thumbs-up.
“You are?”
“Jezmeen Shergill.”
There was some rustling. Jezmeen shut her eyes, hoping that her trick would work.
The voice returned. “Ms. Shergill, there is no appointment listed here.”
“Okay, uh, that’s weird,” Jezmeen said. “Because . . . listen, Mr. Kumar and I were supposed to meet yesterday, but I couldn’t make it because of a family emergency. I was wondering if—hello?” The small light next to the button had stopped blinking and the static noise was gone.
“I think she just hung up,” Jezmeen said.
“Try again, explain that he wants to see you,” Rajni urged.
Jezmeen pressed the button again. “Hi there,” she said as soon as the light came on. “If there’s any way that I can see Mr. Kumar now . . .”
“He’s in a meeting,” the voice said. “He has a very packed schedule and—”
“I have to use the toilet,” Shirina blurted out, peering into the camera.
“There are toilets in the shopping mall just across the road,” the voice said kindly.
“Look,” Jezmeen tried again. “This is very important.”
“I understand, but he is busy, and then he’s getting on a flight to Mumbai.”
“Couldn’t you just knock on his door or something?”
“I’m pregnant,” Shirina declared. Rajni led her away. Jezmeen made a mental note to never involve Shirina in a plan to get past security again.
“Ms. Shergill, we get actors showing up out of the blue, asking to see Mr. Kumar all the time. That’s why we have a strict screening system. I’m really sorry.”
A lump rose in Jezmeen’s throat. She turned to Rajni and Shirina. “That’s it, then,” she said. “Let’s just go.”
“I’m sure there’s something you can do,” Rajni shouted into the intercom. “We’ve come a long way.”
“Raj, you don’t have to yell. I think she can hear you,” Jezmeen said.
The voice apologized again. “If you want to leave your details behind, Mr. Kumar can get back to you.” She didn’t sound very convincing.
“My sister will never have a chance like this again. You work in this industry, surely you understand that?” Rajni hollered.
“Again, Rajni—” Jezmeen began. She knew Rajni was just trying to be heard but she sounded a bit unhinged.
“I’ll need to call security,” the voice said.
“We’re not afraid of that,” Rajni said. “We were threatened with security twice in Chandigarh.”
“Not helping,” Jezmeen said. “It’s over, Raj. This is a sign.”
“I did not like her tone of voice,” Rajni muttered. “Very snobby.”
“I can still hear you,” the voice said.
They had a few hours to kill now that Jezmeen wasn’t going to meet HC Kumar and Tom Hanks was nowhere to be seen. She realized that she had been setting herself up for disappointment—her fears weren’t about her odds at getting another shot. They were about getting that shot and still not succeeding. What if HC Kumar met her and decided she didn’t have what he was looking for? Casting calls and auditions and the long waits for callbacks had taken up too much of her adult life. “Let’s go,” she said firmly to her sisters. This was where her career would probably end.
“Rajni?” A male voice rang out behind them. Jezmeen and her sisters turned around.
“Hari!” Rajni said. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here—there was a call for security because some people were trying to get into the building, so I looked out the window and saw you.”
Jezmeen’s first thought was that the man was the spitting image of HC Kumar. He had the same silver-streaked hair and broad smile as the director she had seen on those behind-the-scenes videos she liked watching. What are the odds, that a look-alike works in the same building? she mused.
Then it hit her. This was him. Rajni knew him. Rajni knew him? So many thoughts and questions rushed through Jezmeen’s mind that she felt light-headed.
“Shirina, remember this lovely man that we met in the, uh . . . that day when Jezmeen was at the protest?” Rajni was asking. Shirina smiled and nodded. Rajni glanced at Jezmeen. “Why do you have such a weird look on your face?”
“I’m Jezmeen Shergill,” Jezmeen said. “I believe we were supposed to meet today.”
“You’re . . . ?” Rajni said.
“I’m HC Kumar,” he said. “You can call me Hari.”