Har Pal – Movie Shoot

A good part of the last several days in Pushkar were spent with Mikael, an amazing Swede, with a heart of gold, and a great eye for taking the most striking pictures. After a spell apart, we resolved to link up again in the Big City, and as no trip to the glitz capital of India is complete without a day on a Bollywood set, I rang up Amjad, and made sure we both got into a song sequence for an A-production. My luck held up.

Har Pal features relative newcomer Shiny Ahuja, paired for the first time with established star Preity Zinta. The scene was set in a nightclub. I recognized some of the dancers from Johnny Gaddar, and others from further movies I have seen, as well.

Right away we were treated to the stars themselves. Shiny Ahuja is very personable, and I wish him much success in his growing career. Preity Zinta is a bitch.

Mikael and I were hands down the best dancers in the foreigners group, not including (but not needing to) the dancing girls with breast implants and feathers in their bleach-blond hair, shaking their wares on the bar. After the first take, true to form, we were both moved right into view of the camera, and nearly stole the show. Knowing beforehand that it was to be shot in a nightclub, I had dressed us appropriately for the occasion.

At a certain point, they put us up in the DJ’s booth, and the beginning of that shot was focused right on us as the camera began to pan across and then down. Doing that take had its good and bad points. The worst part was that behind us was an entire wall of light bulbs, and the whole time it felt like our backsides were baking full tilt in a Holly Hobby oven. The best part was, being in a bar, and feathers in their bleach-blond hair, Mikael cleverly managed to score us beer and Red Bull (but not together) and our dancing soon grew in energy and enthusiasm. We were joined by an intriguing Austrian girl who spoke a slew of languages, including about as much Hindi as me. There was another English girl who also spoke Hindi, and the three of us made quite a stir among the dancers and crew chatting each other up in their language. The Austrian girl was mad as a hatter. When it came up that she spoke several languages, I asked that inevitable question of just how many. She feigned the usual “oh it’s really nothing” false modesty, and revealed the number eight. I can’t describe the malicious fun it was giving her the reaction she least expected, taking her down a peg with my ten. Nevertheless, it must be said that I was duly impressed.

Previously, given the chance, I would loved to have given Preity a cultivated compliment on her (best) performance in Veer Zaara. Austrian Hyperpolyglot managed a short but pleasant exchange with Shiny. The most I managed with Preity was brief eye contact and a Namaskar, which she acknowledged with the most grudging and brief of smiles. From the DJ’s booth, I had the perfect vantage point. Being all pissy and full of diva attitude, I would just have loved to have had a slingshot to pelt her with a spitball, or two. I mean, does she actually reckon that her shit comes out perfumed with a blue ribbon tied to it? She’s apparently not a favorite of other film industry workers, either.

In the event, it was certainly the most fun I’ve had thus far on a film set, and I really couldn’t care less if I make the final cut or not. OK. I’m lying. It would be very nice. Later that evening, Mikael and I, in true neo-colonial fashion, toasted ourselves over outrageously overpriced sushi at the famous Taj Mahal hotel. A memorable end to a memorably week, and a particularly memorable day.