June 1994. Film City, Goregaon.
The sun was beating down on the dusty lot of Film City. A massive set had been constructed to look like a villain's den—oil drums, rusty chains, and a lot of fake blood.
"Cut! Okay, check the gate!"
The director, Sameer Malkan, yelled through the megaphone.
Aarav Pathak stood next to Akshay Kumar. Both were panting.
Akshay was shirtless, glistening with baby oil and sweat, his chest heaving. He had just performed a roundhouse kick that looked fast enough to take someone's head off. Aarav, wearing a ridiculous velvet jacket and a headband (the peak 90s fashion for a 'film star' character), was leaning against a crate, wiping grime off his face.
This was Main Khiladi Tu Anari.
Aarav was playing Deepak Kumar, the fictional superstar who is bored of romantic roles and wants to be a "real hero" like the cop played by Akshay. It was a meta-role. A role within a role.
"You flinched," Akshay said, grinning. He grabbed a towel and wiped his neck.
"I'm supposed to flinch," Aarav retorted, grabbing a bottle of water. "I'm the 'Anari' (The Novice). You're the Khiladi. If I don't look scared, you don't look dangerous."
Akshay laughed, a loud, hearty sound. He slapped Aarav on the back. "Good logic. You know, for a guy who did artsy-fartsy theatre in Delhi, your comic timing is decent. But you need to open up your body more. Comedy is physical."
Aarav nodded, taking the advice seriously. Akshay Kumar in 1994 was a machine. He woke up at 4 AM, ran on the beach, arrived on set at 6 AM, and did his own stunts. He was discipline personified.
Working with him was a masterclass in work ethic. But Aarav had something Akshay didn't: The System.
[Skill Check]Comedy: Level 15 → Level 45 (Rapid Increase) Reason: Learning from the 'Khiladi' era slapstick style. Passive Buff:The Straight Man – Your serious reactions make the joke 20% funnier.
The next scene was the famous "Dance Rehearsal" scene where Deepak Kumar tries to learn action from the cop.
"Action!"
Aarav threw himself into it. He exaggerated his movements, tripping over his own feet, making his face a mask of desperate confusion. He wasn't trying to look cool; he was trying to look like a fool.
When he fell face-first into a pile of cardboard boxes, the entire unit roared with laughter. Even Akshay broke character for a second, chuckling.
"Cut! Perfect!"
Aarav lay in the boxes, staring at the studio lights. He was bruised, sweaty, and wearing hideous clothes.
But he smiled. He was nailing the 'Commercial Hero' vibe. To be a King, you couldn't just cry; you had to make them laugh.
September 23, 1994. The Release.
Main Khiladi Tu Anari hit the screens.
It was a rampage.
The chemistry between the "Rough Cop" and the "Soft Actor" was electric. The audience loved the bromance.
The song Main Khiladi Tu Anari became an anthem. Aarav, dancing next to Akshay in black suits and fedoras, held his own. He didn't have Akshay's raw athleticism, but he had a smooth, fluid grace that the camera loved.
Box Office Report:Verdict:SUPER HIT.Gross: ₹11 Crores (Huge for 1994).
Reviews:> "Akshay Kumar is the fist, but Aarav Pathak is the funny bone. Replacing Saif Ali Khan was a gamble, but Pathak brings a naive charm that makes the film work. He proves he isn't just a tragedian." - Trade Guide.
Aarav sat in his new office—a small space he had rented in Bandra.
He was now a Star. Not a superstar yet, but a Star. He had a hit solo film (Sapne Saajan Ke) and a hit multi-starrer (MKTA).
His bank balance crossed ₹1 Crore.
The phone was ringing off the hook. Producers offering him action films. Producers offering him comedies.
"Sir, David Dhawan is on line 1," his newly hired secretary, Meera, said.
"Tell him I'll call him back," Aarav said.
Meera looked shocked. "It's David Dhawan, Sir! He is the Comedy King!"
"I know," Aarav said, staring at a calendar on his wall. "But I'm waiting for someone else."
It was late 1994.
History was about to pivot.
Aarav knew that right now, in a bungalow in Juhu, a young, shy man named Aditya Chopra was fighting with his father, the legendary Yash Chopra, about a script.
A script called Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.
In the original timeline, Aditya offered the role to Tom Cruise (insanity), then Saif Ali Khan (rejected it), and then Shah Rukh Khan. SRK hesitated. He found the role of 'Raj' too soft. He wanted to be an action hero or an intense lover, not a pansy who chases a girl to Europe. He delayed signing for weeks.
That delay was Aarav's window.
October 1994. Yash Raj Studios.
Aarav didn't wait for an invitation. He used his newfound clout.
He called Yash Chopra's office. "This is Aarav Pathak. I have heard Yash ji is planning a new production. I want to pay my respects."
Yash Chopra, ever the gentleman, invited him for tea.
Aarav drove his new white Honda Accord (an import, the ultimate status symbol) to the studio.
He walked into the cabin. Yash Chopra was sitting there, looking elegant in a silk scarf. But sitting next to him, looking sullen and nervous, was a young man with thick glasses and a receding hairline.
Aditya Chopra.
"Aarav beta!" Yash ji welcomed him. "Come, sit. I saw Khiladi. You were very good. Very funny."
"Thank you, Sir," Aarav said. He touched Yash ji's feet—a calculated move of traditional respect.
He sat down. He looked at Aditya.
"Hello, Aditya ji."
Aditya looked surprised that the "Star" acknowledged him. "Hi."
They drank tea. Small talk ensued. Then, Aarav dropped the bomb.
"Yash ji," Aarav said, putting his cup down. "I hear your son is writing a script. A romance."
Yash ji laughed. "Ah, yes. He wants to make a film about NRIs. Indians in London. I told him, who will watch this? But he is stubborn."
Aditya shifted in his seat, defensive. "It's not just about London, Papa. It's about Indian values."
Aarav turned to Aditya. His eyes locked onto the young director.
"I agree with you, Aditya," Aarav said softly.
Aditya blinked. "You do?"
"Yes," Aarav leaned forward. "The NRIs... they love India more than we do. Because they miss it. They hold onto traditions tighter because they are afraid of losing them. A boy who drinks beer in London but won't touch a drop of alcohol in front of his father... that is a story."
Aditya's jaw dropped slightly. That was exactly the core of his protagonist, Raj.
"Have you... have you read my draft?" Aditya asked, suspicious.
"No," Aarav lied smoothly. "I just know the feeling. I observe people."
Aarav stood up. He walked to the window, looking out.
"The industry is making action movies," Aarav said, his back to them. "Everyone wants to be angry. But I think the country is changing. The economy is opening up. People have money now. They want to travel. They want to see Switzerland. They want to see a hero who is cool, who wears leather jackets and plays rugby, but who falls at his Bauji's feet."
He turned around. He channeled the System.
[Skill Activated: Charisma (Level 88)][Target: Aditya Chopra][Focus: The Visionary Partner]
"I heard," Aarav said, lowering his voice, "that you are looking for your Raj."
Aditya looked at his father, then at Aarav. "We are talking to... others." (Meaning SRK).
"Shah Rukh is a brilliant actor," Aarav said, acknowledging the rival. "He has fire. Baazigar proved that. But does he have the... lightness? Can he play the mandolin with a smile?"
It was a direct hit on Aditya's own insecurity. Adi was worried SRK was too intense.
"Let me audition," Aarav said.
Yash Chopra looked shocked. "Stars don't audition, beta."
"I am not a Star today," Aarav said intensely. "Today, I am Raj."
Aditya stood up. He pulled a sheaf of papers from his bag.
"Scene 45," Aditya said, his voice trembling with excitement. " The Bridge Scene. Raj and Simran. She is leaving. You have to stop her. But you don't say 'I love you'. You say it with a joke."
Aarav took the paper. He didn't read it. He knew it.
System: Acting Level 66.Modifier: The Romantic Icon.
Aarav tossed the script on the table.
"I don't need the paper."
He looked at the empty space in the room. He imagined Simran (Kajol).
He put his hands in his pockets. He slouched slightly—the casual, western body language. He looked at the imaginary girl.
"Palat..." he whispered.
He grinned—a lopsided, charming, arrogant grin.
"Palat... Palat... Palat."
He snapped his fingers.
"She turned."
Aarav looked at Aditya. He shifted gears instantly. He walked closer to the imaginary girl. His face softened. The arrogance melted into a deep, soulful reverence.
"Bade bade deshon mein... aisi choti choti baatein hoti rehti hain, Senorita."
He delivered the line not as a cheesy dialogue, but as a comfort. A promise that everything would be okay.
Silence filled the room.
Yash Chopra was smiling. The kind of smile that meant money.
Aditya Chopra was staring at Aarav. In his head, he saw the poster. He saw the leather jacket. He saw the mandolin.
"Can you leave your hair messy?" Aditya asked suddenly. "Like... uncombed?"
Aarav ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it up. "Like this?"
Aditya looked at his father. "Papa. I think he gets it."
November 1994. The Contract.
The news hit the industry trade magazines like a hurricane.
"PATHAK STEALS THE PRIZE!""Yash Raj Films Announces Debutant Director Aditya Chopra's 'Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge' Starring Aarav Pathak and Kajol."
Shah Rukh Khan, sitting in his makeup van on the set of Karan Arjun, reportedly threw a magazine across the room. He had been stalling, yes, but he assumed the role would wait for him. He hadn't expected the "TV Boy" to swoop in.
Aarav sat in his apartment, holding the contract.
Signing amount: ₹15 Lakhs (Low, but he took a backend profit share, using his economics degree knowledge to negotiate a 5% cut of profits. Yash ji thought he was crazy to ask for profit over salary. Aarav knew he was robbing them blind).
[System Quest: The Kingmaker][Objective: Filming DDLJ.][Location: London, Switzerland, Punjab.][Reward: The Throne of Bollywood.]
But there was a hiccup.
"Kajol is hesitating," Aditya told him over the phone a week later. "She is SRK's friend. She is saying the chemistry won't be the same."
Aarav sighed. Of course. The SRK-Kajol loyalty.
"Set up a meeting," Aarav said. "I'll handle Simran."
December 1994. The Reading.
Kajol was bubbly, loud, and skeptical. She sat in the rehearsal hall, chewing gum, looking at Aarav.
"So," she said. "You're the new Raj. Shah Rukh is going to kill you, you know."
"He can try," Aarav smiled. "But I run faster."
Kajol laughed. "Okay, you're funny. That helps. But look, I'm loud. I take up space. Can you handle that? Or will you cry like you did in Gharaunda?"
"Simran isn't loud," Aarav said gently. "Simran is repressed. She drinks cognac in the snow because she wants to scream but can't. I'm not here to handle Kajol. I'm here to free Simran."
Kajol stopped chewing. She looked at him, really looked at him.
"Okay," she whispered. "That was... deep. Don't get too intense, Pathak. It's a rom-com."
"Is it?" Aarav challenged. "I thought it was a war against tradition."
They started the reading.
By the time they reached the 'Sarson Ka Khet' (Mustard Field) scene, the chemistry wasn't just there; it was different.
With SRK, the chemistry was kinetic, energetic, battling. With Aarav, the chemistry was anchoring. He was the calm ocean to her wild river. It was more romantic, less playful. It was deeper.
Aditya Chopra watched them, scribbling notes furiously. This works. This is different. This is classic.
January 1995. London.
The shoot began.
London in winter was grey and freezing.
Aarav stood in Trafalgar Square. He was wearing The Jacket. The black leather jacket he had personally selected from a vintage store in Camden, rejecting the shiny costume department one.
He held a mandolin.
[System Activation][Skill: Dancing][Sub-Skill: Instrument Mimicry][Action: Lip-syncing to 'Tujhe Dekha To']
"Action!"
Aarav strummed the mandolin. He looked at the pigeons. He looked at the camera.
He didn't just smile; he projected a beam of pure, unadulterated charm.
This was the moment. This was the shot that would be on billboards for the next thirty years.
He thought of the Maratha Mandir theatre in Mumbai, where this film would run for 25 years (in the original timeline). He had to ensure it ran for 30 in this one.
"Cut! Beautiful!"
May 1995. Switzerland.
The song Zara Sa Jhoom Loon Main.
Kajol was drunk (in character), dancing wildly in the snow. Aarav had to chase her, handle her, protect her, but let her be free.
It was physically exhausting. They were slipping on ice.
"Are you okay?" Aarav asked after a take where Kajol actually slipped. He caught her by the waist, holding her steady.
"Strong grip, Pathak," she breathed, steadying herself.
"I work out," he winked.
The chemistry was translating off-screen too. Not romance, but a deep trust. Kajol felt safe with him. And that safety showed on screen as Simran trusting Raj.
But the biggest challenge was yet to come.
The Climax.
The fight at the railway station. The blood. And the Train Scene.
Amrish Puri (Bauji) was a towering figure. In real life, he was intimidating.
The scene: Amrish Puri holding Kajol's hand. The train is moving. Aarav is hanging out of the door, hand extended.
System Analysis.[Critical Moment][If you overact, it becomes melodramatic.][If you underact, the stakes feel low.][Goal: Look at Amrish Puri with 'Respectful Defiance'.]
The train started moving (slowly).
Aarav leaned out. The wind whipped his hair. He looked at Amrish Puri.
His eyes didn't beg. They said: I can pull her, but I want you to let her go.
Amrish Puri stared back. The veteran actor gave him nothing but stone-cold fury.
Then, Amrish Puri let go. "Ja Simran... Ja jee le apni zindagi."
Kajol ran.
Aarav watched her running. The slow motion kicked in.
He reached out. His hand wasn't just a hand; it was destiny.
When Kajol grabbed his hand, he pulled her aboard with a single, powerful motion. He hugged her.
"Cut! Print! It's a wrap!"
The entire unit erupted. Aditya Chopra hugged Aarav.
"You are Raj," Aditya sobbed. "You are my Raj."
Aarav stood on the train step, looking at the Swiss alps (doubling for the Indian border).
He had done it. He had filmed the greatest blockbuster in history.
Now, he just had to wait for October.
[End of Chapter 7]