My So-Called Bollywood Life(42)

    She got closer and closer, heaving with the strength it took to run in the wind. When she was within touching distance, the man turned. Winnie gasped and stumbled. Instead of the face of the Bollywood actor she’d seen so many times before, Dev’s face looked back at her.

“Finally,” he said, and held out his arms as if waiting for her to run into them.





14





GOLIYON KI RAASLEELA: RAM-LEELA





I’m a purist. Totally not a fan of kissing, intense make-out sessions, or especially gasp sex scenes in Bollywood. I think the intensity between the characters is so much better when they have to restrain themselves.

EDIT: I changed my mind.





Winnie pulled the overhead visor down to check her hair and eyeliner for the tenth time. She’d been doing that at every traffic light since she’d left her house twenty minutes ago. She’d just finished patting her loose curls into place when the light changed.

Dev lived in North Brunswick, behind the movie theater that played both American and Indian movies, so she knew how to get to his place easily. She crossed Route 1 and soon reached a small stretch of ranch houses lining a narrow street.

“This is it,” she mumbled as she stopped in front of a blue-and-white house. The walkway was lined with flowering bushes, and the door knocker was in the shape of the god Ganesh. The elephant head had a long trunk curved in a U shape.

    She grinned and was reaching up to touch the metal detail on the trunk when the door wrenched open. Winnie immediately jumped back, and almost tumbled over the potted plants.

“Hey,” Dev said as he leaned against the door in his fitted black shirt. The fabric molded to his chest in a totally-can’t-help-but-stare way.

“Hey.”

“Come in.” He motioned her inside.

“I, uh, brought a couple movie choices for you to pick from.” She closed the front door and toed off her shoes, pushing them into the corner with Dev’s much larger sneakers. She noticed that a calendar from the Durga Temple in Princeton was tacked to the wall in the foyer. The picture of the goddess Laxmi sitting on a lotus surrounded by a ring of light was framed with sticky notes about dry cleaning and bills.

“Let’s take a look,” he said, and disappeared through an archway.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting drinks.”

She followed the sound of his voice and entered a small kitchen painted in sunny yellow.

“Mom isn’t here, but she cooked us a feast. Are you hungry? I can heat this food, too.”

“Uh, no, not really.” They were home alone. So did that mean…? Oh boy. She hadn’t shaved her legs above the knee today.

    No. No, she wasn’t going to go there. If Dev thought he was getting lucky, then he was going to be really, really disappointed.

“Okay,” he said, stepping from behind the fridge door. He threw her a bottle of Starbucks mocha iced coffee. She caught it with two hands.

“I could have dropped it!”

“But you didn’t.”

Winnie rolled her eyes and started shaking the bottle. “I love these things. Thanks.”

“I know, and you’re welcome.”

Before she could ask how he’d known, Dev was picking up a bowl of popcorn, a king-size bag of M&M’s, and a bottle of Gatorade, which he tucked under his arm. He rounded the counter and walked down a short hallway.

“The TV room is in the basement.” He opened the first door on the right, flicked on the light with his elbow, and jogged down a steep flight of stairs. Winnie followed him much more carefully.

When they got to the bottom, Winnie took in the large beat-up brown couches and spotty beige carpeting. When she turned to the left, she let out a gasp.

She had never seen so much camera equipment in her life. In one tiny section of the basement, Dev had managed to store multiple tripods, camera stands, lenses, cases, headphones, microphones, recorders, and other mechanical devices. A table with three computer screens and multiple towers crowded up against the wall.

    “Wow, Dev. That’s…insane. I may have a lot of movies, but you have a lot of studio equipment.” She started walking toward it, but he gripped her arm and gently pulled her back.

“No way. I’m working on my short revision for the festival. You can’t touch until I’m done. Come on, give up the movies. Let’s see what crap you’re going to make me watch today.”

“Crap? Excuse me, but I have some of Bollywood’s finest work with me. You are going to love this.” She pulled a stack of DVDs out of her bag.

“Do you seriously expect me to watch Hum Aapke Hain Koun?”

“It’s a modern classic,” she said.

“No. Next?”

“What? The music is so good. Do you know how many times people have quoted this film? How many weddings reference the dialogue and choreography?”

“Still no. Come on, what other choices do I have?”

“Ugh. Fine.” She held up Kapoor and Sons. “It’s a great movie about family relationships.”

“One I’ve actually seen. My mother makes it a point to watch all the Bollywood movies about cheating dads.”