She reached Mumbai late in the evening, exhausted from the long journey from Bangalore. After a simple dinner, she collapsed onto her bed and drifted into a deep sleep. The city outside buzzed with life, but inside her small studio apartment, it was quiet—just the sound of her dreams catching up with her.
The very next morning, without much rest, she was back on set. The atmosphere was electric. This wasn't just any shoot—it was for Balaji Telefilms' most anticipated new serial, personally backed by Ekta Kapoor herself. The show had just launched and had already been airing for two to three days. The response was overwhelming—buzz on social media, TRP charts climbing, and fan theories already flooding forums.
She was now back on set to continue her part in this rising phenomenon. Despite the fatigue, there was a sparkle in her eyes. This was her moment—the kind she had only dreamed about during quiet nights in Bangalore. Now, she was a part of a show that had the country talking.
Scene: Arohi and Hariprasad at Mr. Punj's House
EXT. MR. PUNJ'S MANSION – LAWN – DAY
The grand mansion stands tall and silent, with ornate gates and shining glass windows. Arohi and her father Hariprasad walk through the side entrance, dressed simply.
A uniformed helper meets them at the gate.
HELPER
(plainly)
Mr. Punj is busy. Please wait here.
He gestures toward a stone bench placed awkwardly in the open lawn, far from the shade, far from the house.
AROHII
(softly, to her father)
Chaliye, Papa.
They walk over and sit. The sun blazes overhead. Sweat beads on Hariprasad's forehead as he quietly pulls out a handkerchief. Arohi notices his discomfort.
TIME LAPSE SEQUENCE –
The shadows shift, light dims slightly. Time passes—two hours. Still no one comes to call them in.
HARIPRASAD
(thirsty, voice dry)
Beta… zara paani mil jaaye toh...
AROHII
(main kar ke aati hoon, Papa)
She stands and walks slowly toward the helper's quarters at the back of the house. As she turns the corner, she overhears two servants talking near a stack of mineral water bottles.
SERVANT 1
Ye bottle side mein rakhna. Paddy Ma'am ke dog ke liye hai.
SERVANT 2
Sirf mineral water, samjhe? Tap water bilkul nahi. Imported breed hai woh.
Arohi stops in her tracks. She stares at them, stunned.
CLOSE-UP: AROHI'S FACE
Her expression shifts—from shock to silent pain. Her lips press together, holding back a reaction. Her eyes glisten in the light.
AROHII (V.O.)
(quietly, thoughtfully)
Do ghante se ham yahan baithe hain... Papa pyaase hain...
Aur yeh log ek kutte ke liye mineral water laa rahe hain?
Yeh hai unka mehmaan-nawaazi?
Kya hum inke nazar mein jaanwaron se bhi kam hain?
She swallows her pride, picks up a regular water bottle from a corner, and walks back silently.
EXT. LAWN – CONTINUOUS
She hands the bottle to her father with a forced smile. He takes it and drinks slowly. Arohi looks away, her face still, but her eyes burning with unspoken questions.
Scene: Hariprasad Ji Meets Mr. Punj
INT. MR. PUNJ'S HOUSE – AFTERNOON PARTY – LIVING HALL
The lavish hall is filled with soft lounge music, servers moving with trays of wine and starters, and high-profile guests chatting lightly. A chandelier glows overhead. A few people laugh too loudly.
Mr. Punj, dressed in an expensive suit, is standing near the bar counter, holding a glass of wine, speaking casually to a few influential guests.
A helper approaches Mr. Punj and whispers something. Mr. Punj nods and gestures.
MR. PUNJ
(in a raised voice)
Ah! Hariprasad ji… please, come in!
Camera turns to Hariprasad ji entering the hall slowly. He folds his hands in greeting. His clothes are simple, and his presence immediately draws attention—not flashy, but dignified.
MR. PUNJ
(smiling, sipping wine)
I'm really glad you came. I've been meaning to speak with you for some time now.
Hariprasad nods silently. Mr. Punj continues in a smooth tone.
MR. PUNJ
You see… I truly respect you. The years you've given to our institution... your honesty, your dedication—unmatched.
(pause)
But unfortunately… the Board of Members is no longer aligned with your way of working. They feel your ideals are holding back the institute's… let's say, modern development.
Hariprasad listens without flinching. Calm and silent.
MR. PUNJ
(regretful)
I tried, truly. But I am not in a position to override the board's decision anymore. Your services as principal... will not be continued.
(pause)
However—(smiles again)—there's something else.
He gestures to the musicians setting up in the corner of the party.
MR. PUNJ
We have these parties often now. Elite gatherings, you know. If you're open to it… you could sing for us. Light bhajans… ghazals. You'd be very well compensated, of course.
A beat of silence.
*Hariprasad's face remains calm. He folds his hands gently.
HARIPRASAD
(sincerely)
Mr. Punj…
Main sangeet ko rozgaar nahi, sadhana maanta hoon.
(pause)
HARIPRASAD
I have never sung in a place where drinks are served, and laughter drowns out the meaning of the words.
For me, music is not entertainment.
It's worship.
Mr. Punj looks mildly surprised, a few guests look away awkwardly.
HARIPRASAD
(shakes his head gently)
I may have lost my position... but not my purpose.
If that is all, I'll take your leave.
He turns to leave, with quiet dignity.
Camera pans across the party hall—people glance at him as he walks out.
FADE OUT.
[SCENE ENDS]
INT. MR. PUNJ'S HOUSE – PRIVATE STUDY ROOM (ADJACENT TO THE LOUNGE) – LATE AFTERNOON
The atmosphere inside the study is slightly dim, with a large window filtering golden sunlight. Books line the shelves, and a few glasses of wine remain on a side table.
Mr. Punj stands near the window, sipping from his glass with a serious expression. He's clearly unhappy about Hariprasad ji's rejection of the "singing offer."
The door opens softly. Arjun, the male lead, enters.
MR. PUNJ
(turning)
There you are. Where did you disappear?
ARJUN
Just walked around… met some interesting people.
MR. PUNJ
(sternly)
That old man — Hariprasad.
He turned down my offer. Said he won't sing at parties.
He still thinks music is some kind of spiritual service.
Arjun walks forward slowly, no expression on his face.
ARJUN
Maybe because it is.
MR. PUNJ
(slightly irritated)
Oh, don't start again. You've lived abroad for years, but still talk like some guru from Banaras.
ARJUN
(sincerely)
Maybe because I met real people.
People who don't measure worth with wine and position.
Mr. Punj eyes him sharply. Arjun stays calm.
MR. PUNJ
That's exactly why you're not ready to handle this business. You get too… involved.
ARJUN
(smiling lightly)
Maybe that's exactly what's missing from this business — involvement.
A short silence. Arjun turns to leave, but Mr. Punj stops him.
MR. PUNJ
Arjun...
Just remember. Sentiment doesn't build empires.
ARJUN
(pauses at the door, softly)
But it builds character.
He exits.