by Nisha Sharma
“Raj…”
“I begged my dad to get me in touch with Gurinder Chadha’s people for you, because I wanted to show you I was serious.”
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“It’s the truth. You know it.”
“But we can’t be the couple we were, and I don’t think we should try,” Winnie said.
“Then I’ll have to work on changing your mind. But we can drop it for now.”
“It’s not going to happen—”
“Remember when we went to that Bollywood music festival up in Parsippany last year?”
She couldn’t help but smile at the memory, even though she knew he was trying to change the subject. With a sigh, she said, “Our laptops wouldn’t stream, and the only movie we had on us to watch in the hotel room was—”
“Bend It Like Beckham. You said you’d love to learn from Gurinder Chadha if you had the chance. Maybe you’ll get some time to talk to her now. You’re better at schmoozing than I am.”
The sound of the side door creaking open interrupted them, and Mr. Reece strolled in. He wore a Hulk T-shirt under a tweed jacket.
“Hello, you two,” he said. He held up a hand to Raj as he approached. “I’m so proud of you, Raj. You’ve really done a great job. This film festival is going to be fantastic.”
Winnie’s nerves crested like a tidal wave. “Mr. Reece? Why am I here?”
He looked over at her, blinking, his mouth setting in a thin line. “Winnie, as you know—as you both know—it’s not school policy to allow the same person to hold multiple positions in an organization. Your previous faculty advisor let both of you share the responsibilities, because you’ve worked so well together, but let’s try not to violate school rules. That’s why I’m splitting responsibilities, to prevent any administration issues.”
Winnie had known that Mr. Reece would do something like this, but her stomach still churned when he confirmed the one thing she was afraid would happen.
“Raj has done a bang-up job with the film festival—”
“After I set up everything last year,” she interjected. “No offense, Raj.”
“None taken.”
“Yes, but he’s been innovative and worked very hard to get a guest judge who can really make this festival a success,” Mr. Reece responded. “The school will get a lot of publicity.”
“Winnie is better at logistics than I am,” Raj said. Winnie shot Raj a grateful look.
“I’m aware of her strengths, Raj, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay to go against procedure. Because of your work, Raj, you’ll be the sole point of contact and lead on the film festival. Winnie, you’ll remain the president of the film club. I heard there was a great turnout at yesterday’s film screening, by the community as well as the student body. It’s best if you focus on that.”
Winnie couldn’t avoid sounding shrill. “You do realize I need this on my transcript, right? The film festival is the only thing that can really make my application shine.”
“I’m sorry, Winnie, but rules are rules. You’ll figure out some other way to shine. And from what I understand, this might help prevent any awkwardness between you two.”
“There isn’t any awkwardness! Raj?”
To his credit, he gave Mr. Reece a winning smile. “Nope, we’re good. In fact, I need Winnie to be my co-captain. I’ll have other stuff that I need to do, so it would be great if she helped.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll have committees to shoulder some of the grunt work,” Mr. Reece said. “But you can’t share a title with her. Unless you don’t want to be a part of the leadership team at all. That means your college application will suffer, too, right?”
Raj hung his head, and Winnie felt her last line of hope snap. She tried to keep the panic from her voice so she didn’t sound like Reese Witherspoon in Election.
“Mr. Reece, I worked so hard for this. I know you haven’t been a faculty advisor for film club before, but you have to understand—”
“No, you have to understand,” he interjected. “It’s my job to follow the rules.”
The burning in her chest was painful, so she took a moment before responding. “What would it take for you to make an exception? There has to be a way to make an exception.”
“An exception,” Mr. Reece said with a sigh. “Okay, there may possibly be room for an exception. According to the rules, a faculty advisor can make an exception to the way school clubs operate based on an extraordinary contribution by an individual student or group of students. If you can demonstrate your leadership capabilities like Raj has, then maybe we’ll talk.”
“But Ms. Jackson—”
“Ms. Jackson is not your advisor anymore. I run things differently.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll be back in a few minutes for the meeting. I have a couple calls to make. I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you, Winnie. Raj, looking forward to seeing what else you do with the festival.”
When he left the auditorium, Winnie groaned.
“I’m sorry, too,” Raj said quietly.
“Did you know about this? That he was really going to enforce that stupid school rule?”
“No, but after his email I figured he might mess things up. He’s always been crazy about following school rules. I’ll talk to him. I wanted to do something special for you. I didn’t expect it to make things worse.”
“Well, at least he’s right about one thing. No awkwardness, since we won’t have to work together.”
He hopped off the stage. “Don’t count on it. I told you, I’m not giving up. I’m the guy your prophecy says is the love of your life. Maybe if I help you with Mr. Reece, you’ll see that, too. I’ll let you know what I come up with so we can figure this out like we always do. Together. I’ll be back. I have to check with my academic advisor on whether or not he sent my transcripts. I’ll see you in a few for the meeting.”
When she was alone with the sound of the humming air echoing in the empty auditorium, she lay down on the center of the stage. Not only had she been dumped by her longtime childhood friend/boyfriend, but Mr. Reece had dumped her, too.
She looked up into the tangles of wires and lighting equipment in the rafters and pressed a palm to her stomach. It was over. She should give up and apply to be a theater major at the local college. She’d live in her parents’ basement for the rest of her life and never see Cannes or study with film theorists like she always wanted, but hey, her parents were awesome. They would still love her even if she was a deadbeat loser.
Winnie heard the doors open again, and muffled voices. She closed her eyes as the footsteps got closer and she felt two people approach her.
“Is she dead?” said a familiar voice.
“No, she’s wallowing.”
Bridget and Dev lay down, sandwiching Winnie between them. She smelled the rich, musky cologne that clung to Dev on one side, and Bridget’s flirty perfume on the other.
“Things just got so bad,” Winnie said, and lifted her hands to cover her face.
“So the meeting sucked?” Bridget said.
“Mr. Reece took away my title as film-festival chair. It’s against school rules.”
They both groaned.
“What are you going to do?” Bridget said.
“Live with my parents for the rest of my life and be a film-buff loser.”
“You know what?” Dev said. “This reminds me of one of the few Bollywood movies I’ve watched in my life. The heroine runs away from home to be with this dude, but she finds someone else on her journey to get there. This other guy is also running away from home. The girl realizes that what she’s wanted all along is not for her anymore. There’s a lot of songs and they meet in a train. The heroine is as talkative as you.”
“I don’t think my life story is like Jab We Met in this situation.”
Winnie’s face was so close to Dev’s, and his calm and steady gaze helped her focus. A part of her couldn’t help but be grateful that things were spiraling out of control. If
they hadn’t, then she never would have reconnected with Dev.
“I think you have time before the festival to get your title back,” Bridget said cheerfully. “When is it again?”
“January fourth,” Winnie and Dev said in unison.
Bridget jerked up to a sitting position. “January fourth? Don’t you think it’s a little strange that you have to find a solution for the film festival with Raj on your birthday? Isn’t that your prophecy—ouch!”
Winnie had probably pinched her best friend’s thigh hard enough to bruise, but that was the only way to get Bridget to shut up. “There is nothing odd about that date. Other than it’s going to be here before I know it and I’m screwed.”
“So what are you going to do?” Dev asked.
“I wish I knew.”
* * *
—
Winnie was beginning to expect the dreams now. She stood on what looked like an empty 1970s Bollywood movie set. Round tables with white tablecloths sat in front of a blue gazebo covered in twinkle lights. She brushed her fingertips against the aqua fabric of her salwar kameez. Long jhumkas hung from her ears, and her anklets chimed when she walked. Man, she wished she could pull the same look off at school.
Shah Rukh Khan wore powder-blue bell-bottoms and sported muttonchops this time. He sat at a piano, playing a familiar song. Winnie approached him and leaned on the piano.
“So I told my dad I’m no longer the film-festival chair.”
Shah Rukh Khan continued to play, but he nodded.
“And I know that Raj said he was doing all of this guest-judge business for me, but he screwed my college application in the process. And on top of everything, I’m kinda getting a thing for Dev. It’s too soon, though, right? Am I a horrible person for wanting to be with someone else after dating the same guy for years?”
“Only you can answer that question, Winnie,” he replied.
“Well, I feel horrible. It’s just that, well, Raj and I have known each other for forever. Even though he didn’t wait long to date Jenny, I feel like I should wait because I have this prophecy that I’m still not sure about. Also, waiting will give me time to focus on proving myself to Mr. Reece. Whether Pandit Ohmi’s prediction about soul mates is true or false, I don’t know. But I do know that film is definitely my future.”
“Do you think that concentrating on your future is a way for you to avoid your destiny?” Shah Rukh Khan asked.
“I don’t know,” Winnie said. She closed her eyes, and then had to pry them back open when her false lashes stuck together. “I’m thinking that I need to come to terms with destiny being something that I can actually control. It’s not magical and it’s not something that can be predicted, no matter what my parents and grandmother and Pandit Ohmi say.”
Shah Rukh Khan gave his iconic wavering laugh.
“What, you don’t think that’s a good idea?” she said.
“I think that’s a foolish idea.”
“Well, I don’t. Focus on school; then, after I graduate, look for a good guy. I’ll have to avoid Dev. Avoid Dev and Raj, I mean.”
Shah Rukh Khan stood; his fingers slipped from the keys. He adjusted his cuff links and walked off the set until he was only a shadow in the darkness.
“You’re still thinking you can control your future and you’ve reached the end of your story, when in fact there is still much of the movie left to see, my friend.” His voice echoed as he faded.
“You need to stop quoting your cheesy movies, Khan!” she called out. “Oh, and Deepika Padukone totally stole this movie from you!”
* * *
—
Winnie jerked awake. She grabbed a half-finished bottle of warm iced tea off the floor and chugged it.
“Well, that was completely useless,” she said in the dark when her heartbeat slowed.
She powered up her laptop and scrolled through her video library until she found Om Shanti Om. She played the movie from the moment Shah Rukh Khan sat at the piano in the gazebo. She didn’t know why she continued to dream about one of her favorite actors, but she was sure that if she played his films, she’d understand what he was trying to tell her. There was no other way to decipher her conversations with him. In the process she’d hopefully get some direction about what she should do.
9
BOMBAY
★★★★★
This movie is the reason I love Bollywood films. There is a scene where the guy and girl connect. It’s quiet, it’s quick, but you just know that these two are meant for each other, and they’ll fight for their love until the very end.
Winnie carefully lined up film strips in the splicing machine and glued the cut ends together. The sound of the machine, metal rotating against metal, was like music to her ears.
She examined the lead. “Perfect.”
“Always so humble.”
Henry leaned against the doorway of the projection room. His black eyeliner and matching nail polish contrasted with his tuxedo shoes and Iron Man T-shirt.
“Since I am a hundred percent positive I got this film strip set up right, then why shouldn’t I be proud of my awesomeness?”
Henry laughed and pushed off the jamb to come closer.
“You almost done?”
“Yup,” she said as she began loading up the platters with film that would then snake through the machine. “What’s up?”
“Just wanted to know what your plans are tonight.”
“I have to email invites for the next film-club screening, write a movie review for my blog, and edit my college essay. That’s about it. Did you have anything in mind?”
“There is a carnival right outside of town. Me and Dev are thinking of going. Want to come?”
She bumped into the prep table next to her, and a stack of empty reels clattered to the concrete floor. “Crap.”
Henry crouched down to pick up the reels with her. When they were eye to eye, Henry said, “Winnie, you know I don’t notice stuff unless it has to do with processors and film, but even I can tell that you’ve been avoiding Dev.”
“What?”
“Seriously. Get a grip, dude. Last Sunday you wouldn’t sit next to me and Bridget because Dev was there.”
“I had to talk to the marketing committee for the festival! We had to start working on the theme for promo.”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “And you’ve worked here three times this week while Dev was on shift with me and you run up here the minute you walk in the door.”
“I’m working.”
“From those of us who know that Raj is a selfish douche who cheated on you, it’s time you move on and give Dev a chance. You guys look, I don’t know, good together.”
She stood, putting the reels back on the table. “There is this Bollywood movie called Mujhse Dosti Karoge.”
“Say what?”
“That’s the title. It’s a line that’s repeated in the movie and translates as ‘will you be my friend?’ Classic love triangle. Guy and girl write letters to each other. Guy comes to India to visit girl, but thinks girl is the hot best friend. Mistaken identity ensues.”
Henry shoved his hands in his pockets. “Keep going.”
“In the story, the hero gives the heroine a silver bracelet so that his mother would know he chose a bride. Except he has to marry someone else before the truth comes out about who he really wants to be with.”
“Okay, now you’ve lost me.”
“All I’m saying is that my truth hasn’t come out yet. I’m waiting for the right guy to give me my silver bracelet. Also, I just realized there are way too many Bollywood movies with silver bracelets as a symbol of love.”
“Does this mean you can’t come hang out with us tonight because you don’t want to be friends with Dev? If you want to have a buffer, you can bring…uh, Bridget. If she wants to come, I mean. It’s not that—I mean…Whatever.”
“Seriously, Henry?” she said with a laugh. “How long have you been jonesing for Bridget? You’ve known her for
years.”
“Damn it,” he hissed, turning a darker red than he already had. “She’s so perfect, Winnie. And don’t tell her! Don’t say anything. In fact, forget I mentioned it. It’s just this last summer we talked and—no. Never mind.”
“Oh no, now we’re both definitely coming tonight. You just gave me the perfect reason to show up. I’ll confront Dev if you confront Bridget. Let me clean up in here and grab my clutch from the office, and I’ll meet you guys downstairs.”
“Great,” Henry murmured.
WINNIE: We’re getting food. BTW Henry is so into you.
BRIDGET: WHAT??????!!!!!!!!????????!!!!!!
WINNIE: It’s true. He told me not to tell you so don’t say anything.
BRIDGET: OMFGGGG! I’m not coming now!!!!!
WINNIE: Where are u??
BRIDGET: In the parking lot.
WINNIE: Shut up and get in here. Henry’s a good guy. Might as well see if u like him too?
BRIDGET: I hate you.
“Bridget will be here in a minute,” Winnie said to Henry as she tucked her phone in her clutch. She hoped it really was a minute. She didn’t know how much longer she could hide the fact that she was staring at Dev in his fitted shirt as he ordered ice cream at the stall across the walking path.
“Did you tell her? About…you know, before?”
“Of course not,” she lied. She diverted the conversation to school and work until Dev rejoined them.
“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered what I get,” he said as he held out a paper cup.
She poked at the ice cream and gasped. “Vanilla bean and Kit Kats?” She dug in until she felt candy, and spooned some into her mouth. The familiar taste had her moaning.
“This is my favorite! I get this every time I go to Robert’s Sweets. How’d you know?”
“I guessed. It must be destiny.”
