A senior creative nodded.
> "That's what Ekta ma'am said. Chemistry is everything. We'll know it when we see it."
---
That Night
Back in the hotel, Bani changed into her cotton salwar and helped her father unpack the evening snacks brought from Bangalore — a simple pack of rusk and a flask of hot water.
She looked calm, brushing her hair while standing at the mirror.
But inside, she wasn't. Not exactly.
> "Appa," she said softly. "I think… tomorrow matters."
He looked at her through the mirror and smiled gently.
> "So did today. And you were brave. That's enough."
Bani stepped out of the audition room, the cold blast of the AC fading as the door clicked behind her. Her father stood waiting, calm and quiet, but her mind wasn't still anymore.
On the bench across the corridor sat two girls — one of whom had just gone in before her.
The taller girl, now scrolling through her phone, looked oddly familiar.
Very familiar.
Bani paused mid-step. A flash crossed her mind.
A scene.
A voice.
A pair of expressive eyes under the glare of studio lights.
That voice had been Bani's lullaby during her teenage yearsin past life. She had watched every episode of kitni mohabbat hai ?" reruns under her blanket with earphones in. The girl in front of her… was the one who played Aarohi — the first lead role Bani had ever emotionally connected with.
> But… wait.
Bani glanced again. That serial aired in jan 2009. But today was mid-2009.
And the show hadn't aired.
> "This can't be. No… if this is the same girl, then that role hasn't happened yet."
She turned her head subtly, trying not to stare. But the realization stuck deep.
The girl wasn't famous yet.
This was her beginning.
The beginning Bani had already seen… but the world hadn't.
---
The Shift
Something buzzed in her.
A slow shiver. Not fear — more like a map unfolding in her chest.
What if she was walking through paths already travelled?
What if her presence… her choices… her audition… could now shift the direction of what she already knew?
She didn't have answers. Only a heartbeat that had quickened.
> "Bani?" her father called softly, noticing her pause.
> "Hmm?" she blinked.
> "Shall we go now?"
> "Yes, Appa… just one minute."
She turned back toward the other girl — Aarohi, whose real name she didn't even remember — and gave her a soft smile.
The girl returned it politely, unaware of what that moment meant.
Bani walked away knowing one thing for certain:
This wasn't just her beginning.
It was someone else's, too.
The room felt warm with spotlight heat, but Bani wasn't nervous anymore.
The moment she saw him — Karan, standing with the script in hand — everything clicked into place. His presence, the setting, even the lines they had asked her to read.
> This wasn't a random audition. This was it. The serial she had once loved.
In her past memories, it had aired nearly six months ago. But here, in this life, the cameras hadn't rolled yet. The project was in pre-production.
And now, she was standing right where the first lead once stood.
Bani took her place on the taped mark, squared her shoulders, and when the camera rolled, she forgot everything else. Her voice held confidence, her eyes layered with emotion, and her expressions subtle yet sharp. She didn't imitate — she simply became the role.
Karan responded naturally, even taken aback for a second. There was something effortless in their rhythm. It wasn't just chemistry — it was instinct.
When the short scene ended, a heavy silence lingered before the casting head said quietly:
> "Thank you, Bani. You may step outside now."
She bowed her head politely and walked out. Her father, waiting with one of Prasad Bidapa's assistants, stood up when he saw her. He could tell something had shifted — she was calm but glowing.
Inside the room, Ekta Kapoor had joined the creatives.
The audition clip was replayed — twice.
Her posture, her presence, her face — it all fit.
> "Only one issue," someone said.
"Her age. She's seventeen. Still a minor."
Ekta leaned back. "How long until she turns eighteen?"
> "Less than two months," the coordinator confirmed. "Birthday falls mid-May. If we begin shooting right after, she'll be of age legally."
A long pause. Then Ekta spoke without hesitation:
> "The show airs after two months. We lock her in. The screen loves her."
And that was it.
The decision was made.
---
Bani and her father weren't told anything official that day. Just that she had done well and they'd be in touch soon.
After the formal confirmation from Balaji, the excitement in Bani's house was high—but not without concern.
Her father, a quiet man who rarely imposed rules, sat across from her one evening. His hands rested on a paper: her college attendance sheet.
> "Acting is fine, Bani," he began. "But your education is your safety net. Fame doesn't wait, but education always stands behind you."
Bani nodded. She had no plans of dropping out—but she knew it would be impossible to attend regular college classes while juggling shoots.
That's when Prasad Bidapa's senior associate suggested:
"Many young talents who start working full-time opt for NIOS. It's officially recognized and much more flexible. She can study at her own pace, and it won't stop her career."
---
What Is NIOS?
Bani and her father did their research that same night:
NIOS (National Institute of Open Schooling) is a central government-recognized board, just like CBSE or ICSE.
It offers Class 10 and 12 education, and most importantly, allows rolling admission—so she could enroll any time before the cutoff for that academic cycle.
She could choose a limited number of subjects (minimum 5, maximum 7) based on her interest and schedule.
Study materials, assignments, and even video lessons would be provided online.
Final exams are held twice a year (April and October), so she could choose when to appear based on her work calendar.
---
Enrollment Process
By the weekend, they visited the nearest NIOS Regional Centre in Bangalore.
With her birth certificate, Class 10 mark sheet, Aadhaar card, and a passport-size photo, her father filled out the online registration with her.
They selected the Academic Stream (Secondary + Sr. Secondary), opting for the Arts group since it aligned well with Bani's interests and was manageable during shoots.
For now, they chose:
English
Hindi
Home Science
Psychology
Data Entry Operations (a practical subject she already liked)
Fee paid online: ₹1800 per subject approx. + ₹480 for registration.
She received her Enrollment Number and NIOS ID card within a week.
---
A Balanced Start
On her last day at college, Bani submitted her transfer application and left with her head held high—not because she was walking away from studies, but because she was walking toward a path designed for her lifestyle.
Her father was satisfied.
> "Now you have no excuse," he said firmly. "Work hard in both fields. That's the deal."
> "Deal," Bani smiled. She wasn't escaping education—she was reimagining it.