March 1996. Look Test. Filmistan Studios.
The mirror reflected a stranger.
Aarav Pathak, the "NRI Prince" who had just made leather jackets and mandolins a national obsession, was gone. In his place sat a man who looked like he smelled of diesel and cheap bidi tobacco.
His skin was stained three shades darker with bronzer. His hair, usually blow-dried to fluffy perfection, was oiled and combed flat, with a small, unruly curl falling over his forehead. He wore a red sleeveless vest and a checkered shirt tied loosely around his waist.
"Too much oil?" Aarav asked, looking at his reflection.
Dharmesh Darshan, the director, shook his head. "No. Perfect. You look like you belong in Palankhet. But the eyes... the eyes are still too city."
Aarav closed his eyes.
System, access linguistic database.Load Dialect: Kumaoni-Hindi Hybrid.Activate Acting Sub-skill: Rustic Naivety.
When Aarav opened his eyes, the sharpness was gone. They were wide, slightly bewildered, filled with a simple, rural warmth. He slouched, letting his shoulders drop.
"Arre Madam ji," Aarav said, his voice pitched slightly higher, rougher. "Hum garib log hain, dil ke saaf hain." (We are poor people, but our hearts are clean.)
Dharmesh clapped. "That's it! That's Raja!"
The media was skeptical. A leading film magazine ran a cover story: "FROM SWITZERLAND TO SLUMS: Can the sophisticated Aarav Pathak pull off a taxi driver?"
Aamir Khan, who had left the project, was reportedly watching closely. In an interview, he remarked, "Raja is a difficult role. It requires a surrender of ego. Let's see if the new generation can do it."
Aarav cut out that interview and taped it to his vanity mirror.
May 1996. On Location - Ooty.
Filming Raja Hindustani was a different beast from DDLJ. DDLJ was subtle, classy. Raja Hindustani was loud, emotional, and unapologetically melodramatic. It was cinema for the masses, for the single-screen theatres in the heartland of India.
Aarav was reuniting with Karisma Kapoor.
She had changed too. Since Sapne Saajan Ke, she had groomed herself. She was no longer the raw teenager; she was looking stunning, polished, and ready for her own career-defining performance.
"You look different," Karisma said, walking onto the set for the first song, Kitna Pyaara Tujhe Rab Ne Banaya. She was wearing a blue dress; he was in his taxi driver outfit.
"I'm just a driver, Madam," Aarav grinned, staying in character.
"Don't start," she laughed. "I heard you stole this from Aamir."
"I didn't steal it," Aarav adjusted his collar. "I just drove the taxi faster when he got out to check the tires."
They had natural chemistry. The comfort from their first film bled into this one, making the class-divide romance feel genuine.
But the atmosphere on set wasn't all romance.
The Shadow.
It happened during the lunch break on the third week.
A black Pajero with tinted windows drove onto the location—a private tea estate that was supposed to be a closed set.
Three men stepped out. They weren't actors. They wore silk shirts, gold chains, and had the distinct, arrogant swagger of men who carried guns in their waistbands.
The unit went silent. The spot boys froze. Even the loud production manager stopped shouting.
The Mumbai Underworld.
In the mid-90s, they were the invisible producers. They dictated casting, demanded distribution rights, and extorted 'protection money'.
Dharmesh Darshan looked pale. He walked over to them, his hands trembling slightly.
Aarav sat in his chair, sipping tea. He watched.
System Analysis.[Threat Level: High][Faction: D-Company (Local Operatives)][Objective: Intimidation / Extortion]
Aarav's instinct—the 2025 logic—was to call the police. But his 1996 memory knew better. The police wouldn't come. Or if they did, they would arrive after the damage was done.
One of the men, a heavy-set guy with a scar, was shouting at the production manager. "Bhai wants to know why the overseas rights haven't been discussed yet."
Dharmesh was stammering. "We... we already signed with Eros..."
The goon slapped the production manager. The sound echoed across the silent set.
Karisma gasped, clutching her assistant's arm.
Aarav put his tea down.
[System Alert][Quest Generated: The Don's Stare][Option A: Stay out of it. (Safe)][Option B: Intervene physically. (Suicide)][Option C: Diffuse with Status. (High Risk/High Reward)]
Aarav stood up. He didn't walk like a hero. He walked like Aarav Pathak—the Star.
He walked straight up to the group.
"Excuse me," Aarav said. His voice was calm, carrying the authority of a man who commanded millions of eyes.
The goon turned. "Who acts smart?"
He saw Aarav.
"Arre... Pathak," the goon's tone shifted slightly. He recognized the face. Everyone knew the face.
"Shooting is stopped," Aarav said, checking his watch casually. "Every hour we lose costs ₹2 Lakhs. Who is paying for this?"
The goon sneered. "Bhai doesn't care about your lakhs."
"Bhai cares about business," Aarav said, looking the man in the eye. He didn't blink. He used the same 'Stage Presence' he used on Amrish Puri, but sharpened it. "If the movie doesn't finish, nobody makes money. Not the producer, not the distributors... and not Bhai."
He stepped closer.
"Go tell your boss that Ali Morani (a known film organizer connected to everyone) handles the overseas. We are just actors. Don't scare the staff. It looks bad."
He dropped a name. Morani. It was a gamble, but he knew the connections from his future knowledge.
The goon paused. He looked at Aarav, trying to find fear. He saw none. Aarav looked bored, as if this was a distraction from his scene.
"You have guts, hero," the goon muttered. He spat on the ground near Aarav's expensive shoes.
"We will be watching," the goon said to Dharmesh, then turned and signaled his men.
They got back into the Pajero and drove off.
The silence stretched for ten seconds after the car disappeared.
Then, Dharmesh collapsed into a chair. "Water... give me water."
Karisma looked at Aarav. Her eyes were wide. "Are you crazy? They could have shot you."
Aarav picked up his tea. It was cold.
"They don't shoot the Golden Goose, Lolo," Aarav said, using her nickname. "Not yet."
But his hand, hidden in his pocket, was shaking. The System had flooded him with adrenaline.
[Reputation Update: Underworld Neutrality][You are marked as 'Respectful but bold'.][Warning: Do not push your luck.]
July 1996. The Kiss.
The threat faded, but the pressure of the film remained.
The climax involved the famous kiss. In 1996, a lip-lock in a mainstream Bollywood movie was scandalous. It was unheard of for A-list stars.
It was raining (artificial rain). Aarav and Karisma sat under a tree.
"Cut the noise!" Dharmesh whispered. "This has to be intimate."
Aarav looked at Karisma. She was shivering, wet from the rain machines.
"Trust me?" he asked.
She nodded. "Just... don't make it look hungry. Make it look desperate. Like we are losing each other."
"Action."
Aarav leaned in. He didn't rush. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. He let the audience see the hesitation, the fear of crossing the line.
When their lips met, it wasn't aggressive. It was a surrender.
It lasted long. Uncomfortably long for the 90s censors.
"Cut."
They pulled away. Karisma looked down, blushing for real.
"That," Dharmesh whispered, "is going to sell tickets in black for ₹500."
November 15, 1996. The Release.
Raja Hindustani released on Diwali.
If DDLJ was a class hit, Raja Hindustani was a mass hysteria.
The song Pardesi Pardesi became the national anthem for heartbreak. Rickshaw drivers played it on loop. Weddings played Aaye Ho Meri Zindagi Mein.
The Kiss became the talk of the town. Conservative groups protested, burning posters. But controversy is the best marketing.
Box Office Report:Verdict:ALL TIME BLOCKBUSTER.Gross: ₹45 Crores (Surpassing DDLJ's initial run in some circuits). Impact: Aarav Pathak was now the undisputed King of 1996.
He had delivered two All-Time Blockbusters in two years. DDLJ (1995) and Raja Hindustani (1996).
No actor—not Amitabh, not Rajesh Khanna, not SRK—had achieved this velocity of success so early.
December 1996. The Mannat Incident.
Aarav bought the plot in Bandra. It wasn't just any plot.
In the original timeline, a beautiful heritage bungalow named Villa Vienna was bought by Shah Rukh Khan in 2001 and renamed Mannat.
But in 1996, the trust that owned it was looking to lease or sell. It was dilapidated, legally tangled, and expensive.
Aarav had the money. He had the 5% profit share from DDLJ streaming in. He had the signing amount from Raja Hindustani.
He met the trustees. He used his legal knowledge (boosted by System logic) to clear the paperwork faster than anyone expected.
He bought Villa Vienna for ₹13 Crores.
The news broke the next morning.
"PATHAK BUYS THE PALACE BY THE SEA"
That evening, Aarav stood on the rusted gates of his new home, looking at the sea. He knew he had just taken SRK's future home. It was petty, maybe. But in the game of dominance, symbols mattered.
His phone rang.
It was Karan Johar.
"Aarav," Karan sounded breathless. "I finished the script. Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. I have the narration ready. But..."
"But what, Karan?"
"Shah Rukh wants to hear it too. He found out Kajol is in it. He wants the lead."
Aarav smiled. The Empire strikes back.
"Let him hear it, Karan," Aarav said, walking back toward his car. "Let him hear the role of Rahul. And then... bring the script to me."
"But if he says yes?" Karan asked nervously.
"He won't," Aarav said confidently. "Because in your script, Rahul is a college boy who loses his wife and cries. Shah Rukh wants to be the Action Hero right now. He is shooting Koyla. He thinks romantic roles are 'soft' again."
Aarav knew history. SRK had almost rejected KKHH too. He had to be convinced.
"I won't convince him," Aarav thought. "I'll replace him."
[End of Chapter 9]