Bombay – The Taj Mahal Palace Hotel
The Bombay of 1992 was a city breathing in the scent of change. Outside the tall windows of the Taj, the Gateway of India stood as a silent witness to history, but inside Suite 402, a new history was being written. The air was cool, scented with expensive sandalwood and the faint, metallic tang of new film reels.
Ashutosh Pathak sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his frame casting a long shadow against the sunset-soaked walls. Thanks to his Stage 4 Physical Status, his mind was operating with a clarity that felt like a superpower. He wasn't just thinking about the scene; he was simulating the entire logistics of a three-continent shoot in real-time.
A sharp, rhythmic knock sounded—a nervous, staccato beat.
"Come in," Ashutosh said, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that vibrated through the floorboards.
The door swung open to reveal a twenty-six-year-old Shah Rukh Khan. He looked like the definition of a "struggling genius"—his hair was a chaotic mop, his shirt was slightly wrinkled, and his eyes were rimmed with the fatigue of a man who had been rejected by three different casting directors that week. He stepped into the opulent room, feeling out of place until his eyes locked onto the giant behind the desk.
"Ashu?" Shah Rukh whispered, his voice cracking slightly.
Ashutosh stood up, his sheer presence filling the room. He walked around the desk with the predatory grace of a man who knew exactly where he stood in the world. He extended a hand. "I told you I'd be eighteen when the camera was ready, Bhaiya. I'm a man of my word."
Shah Rukh stared at the hand, then at the towering young man. "I thought you were a ghost, kid. I thought that 'bridge scene' script was just a childhood dream I kept in my drawer to stay sane. But look at you... you look like you've been carved out of the Himalayas."
"Sit," Ashutosh commanded. It wasn't a request; it was the tone of a director who already saw the finished product.
As Shah Rukh sat, Ashutosh tossed a leather-bound binder onto the coffee table. The gold-embossed title gleamed: Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.
"I want you to play Raj Malhotra," Ashutosh began, his Mental Processing (Stage 4) already scanning Shah Rukh's micro-expressions—the flicker of doubt, the spark of hunger. "But I don't want the Raj that Bollywood expects. I don't want the 'angry young man' or the 'stuttering psychopath.' I want a Raj who is modern on the outside but carries the fragrance of a Varanasi temple on the inside. A man who won't steal a girl, but will win her family."
Shah Rukh flipped through the pages, his eyes widening. "The locations... London, Switzerland, Punjab? Ashu, do you have any idea what this will cost? And you're only eighteen. The industry will laugh at us. They'll say a boy is playing with his father's money."
"Let them laugh," Ashutosh said, his eyes turning Fiery. "I didn't come here to ask for a seat at their table. I came here to build my own palace. Trilogy Studios is the producer, the distributor, and the global rights holder. And as for you... I won't pay you a salary. I'm offering you 10% of the Global Box Office."
Shah Rukh choked on his breath. "10%? If this hits even 50 Crore, that's more money than most stars make in a lifetime! But you're talking about 700 Million Dollars. That's... that's impossible for an Indian film."
"Watch me make the impossible inevitable," Ashutosh replied. He stood up and walked to a grand piano in the corner of the suite. "But a king needs a song. And a film needs a heartbeat."
Just as the tension in the room reached its peak, the door burst open. Ananya, now seventeen, marched in carrying a tray of Varanasi-style chai and a plate of piping hot samosas. Behind her followed Vishwanath Pathak (Dada) and Raghunath, looking a bit overwhelmed by the luxury of the Taj but carrying their natural authority with ease.
"Bhaiya! If you keep talking business, these samosas will turn into rocks," Ananya scolded, completely ignoring the fact that she was interrupting a meeting with a future superstar. She turned to Shah Rukh and squinted. "Oh! You're the 'intense' one from the stories. You're shorter than I thought."
Shah Rukh blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer confidence of the seventeen-year-old girl. "And you must be the 'Secret Weapon' Ashu mentioned in his letters?"
"Assistant Director and Lead Stylist," Ananya corrected, placing the tray down with a flourish. "And if you don't eat, you won't have the energy for the screen test tomorrow. My brother is a slave-driver."
Vishwanath Pathak sat on the sofa, patting the cushion next to him. "Come, Shah Rukh-beta. Sit with an old man. Tell me, do you think this grandson of mine is as crazy as he looks? He wants to take 50 people to Switzerland just to film a song in the rain."
Shah Rukh sat, charmed by the warmth of the Pathak family. For a moment, the high-stakes world of Bombay cinema vanished, replaced by the atmosphere of a Varanasi Haveli. "Sir, I think your grandson is either a madman or a prophet. But I've decided to follow him either way."
Raghunath looked at Ashutosh, his eyes full of a father's quiet pride. "The equipment arrived at the Goregaon studio today, Ashu. Those German cameras... the technicians were afraid to even touch them. They've never seen Arri 535s in India before."
"They better get used to them, Papa," Ashutosh said, sipping his tea. "Because tomorrow, we're going to shoot a test that will change how this city looks at 'kids from Varanasi'."
As the family chatted and the room filled with the scent of spices and laughter, Ashutosh sat back. This was the "Slice of Life" he fought for—the balance between his global empire and his family's roots. He looked at Ananya, who was already lecturing Shah Rukh on the "fashion sense" of a London-based NRI.
'Everything is in place,' Ashutosh thought, his Mental Processing clicking through the checklist. 'I have the King. I have the Capital. I have the Family.'
He looked at his system one last time before the day ended.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[CURRENT PROJECT: DDLJ - PRE-PRODUCTION 85% COMPLETE]
[AURA ACTIVATED: THE DIRECTOR'S DOMAIN]
[REMAINING SKILL POINTS: 27,100]
"Shah Rukh-bhaiya," Ashutosh said, cutting through the family chatter. "Tomorrow at 6:00 AM, the Goregaon studio. Be there. And wear something you don't mind getting dusty. We're going to find 'Raj' in the mud before we find him in the tuxedo."
Shah Rukh stood up, a new fire in his eyes. He realized that with the Pathaks, he wasn't just signing a movie; he was being adopted into a revolution.