The thing about meeting your childhood hero is that it's meant to be disappointing. There's an unwritten rule in the universe that says the people we build up in our minds should inevitably let us down when encountered in the flesh.

So when Lakshya found himself sitting across from Kishore Kapoor in his office on the twenty-third floor of a building that seemed specifically designed to make it feel like a film theatre with posters and reels, he was fully prepared to be let down.

He had spent most of his life studying this man's filmography, dissecting his performances until they became part of his creative DNA. And now here was the man himself, somehow both exactly and nothing like he'd imagined.

"So, Lakshya," he said, leaning back in a leather chair that probably cost more than a three-film-old director's monthly rent. "Tell me why I should commit 8 months of my life to your story."

His voice had that same textured quality it did on screen, but in person, there was something softer around his eyes.

The legendary Kishore Kapoor was sixty-three and still handsome. However, the deep creases around his mouth suggested he'd earned every one of those years. Four consecutive flops hadn't diminished his aura one bit.

Lakshya cleared his throat. "Because it's the role of a lifetime," his mind framed the answer, and he mentally barfed. Who was he kidding? This man must have heard these lines a thousand times by now.

"Be honest, even if it means fluttering your eyes around him like a teenager," his AD Karishma had told him before dropping him off for the meeting with the man they mutually adore.

"And because no one else could play it better," Lakshya said honestly, his expression as unreadable as ever.

One silver eyebrow arched skyward. "That's either brilliant flattery or terrible negotiation strategy."

"Maybe both?" he said, fighting the urge to facepalm. Unlike his idol, Lakshya was not witty with words. He wondered if he should come clean about it at the early stage of their collaboration so he doesn't end up disappointing the man he desperately wants to like him.

And then Kishore did something unexpected. He laughed. Not the practiced chuckle he deployed in interviews, but something real that transformed his face entirely. Lakshya couldn't believe he'd just made Kishore Kapoor laugh. He desperately hoped it was not because he was such a clown before this legend.

"Tell me about this epic," he said, gesturing toward the hardbound script Lakshya had placed on his desk.

For the next forty minutes, Lakshya explained his vision for a two-part fantasy saga that married the grandeur of ancient Indian mythology with magic realism.

He described the character he had written for his inspiration - a fallen warrior seeking redemption across lifetimes. Something sparked behind Kishore's eyes. But Lakshaya didn't let that distract him. He stayed rooted to his script and the world he created.

By the time the narration finished, his throat was dry and palms were sweating, but one side of Lakshya's lips curled in a mix of pride and a challenge that dared Kishore to dislike his fascinating and tight script.

Kishore was leaning forward, elbows on his desk. Studying the expression on the young man's face with a practiced nonchalance. He approved of whatever he saw. As a man of art, he revered anyone who presented their craft with a sense of self-appreciation. And seeing the barely there glint in the eyes of the young man in front of him, Kishore has already made the decision.

"It's ambitious," he said finally. "Perhaps too ambitious."

Lakshya's heart sank.

"But," he continued, tapping a finger against the script, "ambition is precisely what this industry has been missing."

The words took a moment to register, and when they did, Lakshya had to consciously remind himself not to grin like an idiot.

"You'll do it?" he asked, his voice embarrassingly close to a squeak.

"I'll read the full script tonight. If it's as good as your pitch, then yes." Kishore stood, signalling the end of the meeting. "This industry needs new blood, Lakshya. And I've been waiting for a role worth the pain of getting into fighting shape again."

Lakshya rose, nearly knocking over the chair in his eagerness. "Thank you, sir. I...you won't regret it."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Kishore said, but his eyes were smiling. "And don't call me sir. It makes me feel ancient."

They shook hands. Kishore's grip was firm, while Lakshya's was probably damp with nervous sweat.

Then, he floated out of Kishore's office in a daze. Lakshya was so caught up in replaying the entire meeting in his head that he hadn't noticed the woman coming around the corner until they collided, sending the stack of papers she was carrying fluttering to the floor like oversized confetti.

"I'm so sorry," he blurted, dropping to his knees to help gather the scattered pages. "I wasn't looking where-"

"Clearly," she said, but there was no real bite to it. In fact, her tone was amused. Why?

He glanced up and momentarily forgot how to breathe. She was striking in a way that had nothing to do with conventional beauty, though she had plenty of that too.

It was something about the intelligence in her eyes that looked so familiar yet daunting. And then there was that slight quirk of her mouth, as if she were perpetually on the verge of making a joke only she would understand.

"These are out of order now," she sighed, gathering the pages he had haphazardly collected.

"I can help you sort them," I offered, but didn't mean it. Something about her made him want to rub his palms over his arms as if he were cold.

"No need. I've numbered them. I plan for disasters." There was definitely humour in her voice, but there was also the preparedness of someone who had met disaster too many times to be caught off guard again.

She stood, papers now relatively organized. He rose, too, painfully aware that he'd been kneeling at her feet like some medieval suitor. A comparison that he didn't know he was capable of considering his movie critic said, 'will die in the hands of every gangster character he had conceived before writing one scene that could be vaguely romantic'.

"I'm Shriya," she said, extending her hand. An almost unnecessary gesture in a place where everyone surely knew her.

"Lakshya," he said, shaking her hands.

"Just watch where you're going next time," she said, but her eyes were warm. "Some of us are carrying important things."

With that, she sidestepped him and continued down the hall. Lakshya found himself watching her go, wondering what those important papers were, and why he suddenly felt like I'd just missed something significant.

Descending from Kishore Kapoor's domain back to the world of mere mortals, he was greeted by his AD, who whistled, asking, "We got the deal, didn't we?"

"Technically, not yet," Lakshaya said, trying not to give his team more hope. In the last few years he has been in the industry, he has learned that the movie might not take off even after they have set foot in the studio for the shoot.

"Then why are you grinning?" Karshima asked, firing up the car

" I am not," Lakshaya said, buckling up the seat belt, wondering when his face had learned how to grin.

But that's the thing about life-changing moments. They hit us before we are aware of it.

***

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