She was barely out of her teens and looked very fresh. Aslam, the film reporter of a local newspaper was looking at the new Mumbai heroine Savitha. It was the shooting of the movie "Paapa potta Thaapa" (The girl who locked the latch). While purists argued that the title sounded pornographic, the producer and director didn’t seem to mind much. They were happy that this title made them use double entendre intentionally in the movie with hell lot of glamour and oomph targeted at their youth audience. What more, they would also get tax exemption from the state government for naming their film in Tamil :-)
This was the Mumbai Girl Savitha's first Tamil movie. Her mother was seated nearby and as per heroine's mother’s norms she was having all her share of apple juice and throwing tantrums at the hapless Assistant directors. The make up girl was applying more rose powder needlessly to her already rose colored cheeks. She was reading Sidney Sheldon’s' Best Laid Plans. Aslam didn’t know if really heroines did read Sheldon or pretended to do so as he had seen most of them do that.
Aslam: So where are you from?
Savitha: I am from Mumbai. The director approached me after he saw me in an ad.
Aslam: How do you find TamilNadu?
Savitha: Oh it’s a nice place. Ennakku tamil konjaam konjaam teriyum. Is this rite?
Aslam: Wow you are good.
Liar. She was running a bulldozer over Tamil with intensity greater than the Tamil TV comparers and a touch lesser than Udit Narayan. May the noble souls of Valluvar and Bharathi rest in peace.
The physics of Indian male is funny. They fantasize heroines as their lovers or wives. That’s why the Indian heroines have not been successful playing title roles after marital bliss. Heroines were dumb and stupid or had to act as such. Those who didn’t follow the convention found themselves playing sister, mother or grandma (in worst cases) to heroes who were old enough to act as their great grandpa. The more lucky ones became mega serial heroines who cried at a drop of a hat. The rest chose to become some Durga, Lakshmi or Parvati or whatever goddess with all jewels locked in RBI and seated over a fake tiger. After the shot got over, Savitha and her super mom went inside the caravan van to take some rest. Aslam's interview was over and he just had to spice it up a little for his gossip loving public.
Inside the caravan, the following conversation happens in chaste Marathi
Savitha: I hate to do this. Why can’t I tell that I am a tamilian settled long before in Mumbai and have to lie about this?
Mom: Are you stupid? Except Trisha and Sneha how many Tamil heroines do you know in the movie industry? Nobody knows this truth about us. Look, your market rate is just based on the fact that you are from Mumbai.
Savitha: (sobbing) But I hate this mom. Did you see how that son of a bitch reporter was ogling at me? I feel uncomfortable doing this mom.
Mom: Savitha, dont become emotional. Just do a few more films. Wait till we find some rich business man or a producer's son. Do you think I want to make you go through all this?
Savitha didn’t say anything. She looked outside the caravan window. The sun was going deep down behind the mountain and nobody around seemed to be in a mood to appreciate it. She was having a sense of Deja vu.