The Goregaon studio was a cavernous space of echoing concrete and dust motes dancing in the morning light. It was barely dawn, but the "Trilogy" crew was already on edge. Ashutosh had spent the previous night overseeing the installation of the imported Arri 535 cameras and a custom-built lighting rig that looked more like something out of a NASA laboratory than a Bollywood set.
The veteran Director of Photography (DOP), a man named Binod who had shot thirty films in the industry, was currently staring at Ashutosh with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief.
"Ashu-baba," Binod said, wiping sweat from his brow. "You want me to set up a 'Three-Point' lighting system with a back-rim focus for a screen test? We usually just throw up a couple of softboxes and call it a day. This is a waste of electricity."
Ashutosh, standing at his full 6'3" height, looked down at the light meter in his hand. His Stage 4 Mental Processing was calculating the exact lumen output required to make the skin tones pop against the rustic backdrop he had designed.
"Binod-da," Ashutosh said, his voice calm but possessing a razor-sharp edge. "In a Trinity film, there is no such thing as 'just a screen test.' Every frame we capture is a promise to the audience. If the lighting doesn't make the actor's soul visible, we aren't filmmakers—we're just people with expensive toys. Adjust the rim light to 45 degrees. Now."
Binod grumbled but signaled his assistants. There was something about the way the eighteen-year-old stood—shoulders back, eyes scanning the room with Director's Vision Lv 5—that made it impossible to argue.
A moment later, the studio doors opened, and Shah Rukh walked in, looking slightly better rested but still visibly nervous. Following him was a young woman with fierce, expressive eyes and a mane of unruly hair. This was Kajol. At seventeen, she was a bundle of raw, unpolished energy, famously known for her bluntness and her refusal to conform to the "typical" heroine mold.
"So," Kajol said, looking up at Ashutosh. "You're the genius from Varanasi? My mother said you're a lawyer, a businessman, and a director. I think you're just a giant who wants to play with dolls."
The crew held their breath. No one spoke to a director like that.
Ashutosh didn't blink. He looked at her, his Acting Coach Lv 4 instantly identifying her "Tell"—she used aggression to hide her insecurity about her unconventional looks.
"I don't play with dolls, Kajol-ji," Ashutosh said, stepping into the light. "I find the truth in people and I put it on a 35mm reel. You think you're here to act. You're not. You're here to become Simran. And Simran doesn't hide behind sarcasm."
He turned to Shah Rukh. "Bhaiya, stand over there. Near the mock-up of the train window."
For the next four hours, the studio witnessed a masterclass that left the veterans speechless. Ashutosh didn't give vague instructions like "be sad" or "look romantic." He spoke in the language of psychology and precise movement.
"Shah Rukh-bhaiya, don't look at her with your eyes. Look at her with your memory. Remember the first time you realized that your life was no longer yours to keep. Kajol-ji, don't scream. Whisper the line. If the audience has to lean in to hear you, you've already won their hearts."
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[SKILL PROGRESS: DIRECTOR'S VISION LV 5 -> 45%]
[SKILL PROGRESS: ACTING COACH LV 4 -> 30%]
During a break, Savitri and Ananya arrived with steel tiffin carriers filled with poha and ginger tea.
"Eat, eat!" Savitri insisted, thrusting a plate at a bewildered Kajol. "You are so thin, beti. How will you survive a 40-day shoot in the cold of Switzerland if you don't have strength?"
Kajol, who was used to the cold, professional sets of Bombay, was taken aback. She looked at the warm, bustling Pathak family—Dada Vishwanath was currently explaining the history of Varanasi spices to a lighting technician, while Ananya was showing Shah Rukh a series of fashion sketches for his "London look."
"Is it always like this?" Kajol whispered to Ashutosh as she bit into a spicy samosa. "Like a family wedding?"
"The set is an extension of the home," Ashutosh replied, his eyes never leaving the monitor. "If the crew feels like a family, the film feels like a heart. If they feel like employees, the film feels like a product."
Kajol looked at him, her defiance finally melting. "You're a strange one, Ashutosh Pathak. But I think I like your 'Trilogy' way of doing things."
By the time the sun began to set, they had captured the "Palat" sequence. On the high-definition monitor, the chemistry between Shah Rukh and Kajol was undeniable—it was electric, haunting, and deeply, viscerally Indian.
Binod, the DOP, walked over to Ashutosh and patted him on the shoulder, his earlier annoyance replaced by genuine reverence. "I've been in this business for twenty years, Ashu-baba. I've never seen a director find the 'magic' this fast. We didn't just shoot a test today. we shot history."
Ashutosh nodded, but his mind was already moving toward the next hurdle.
"Pack it up," Ashutosh commanded. "Tomorrow, we meet the music directors. We need 'Tujhe Dekha Toh' to be ready by Friday. Ananya, call the travel agent. We're moving the Punjab schedule up. I want the mustard fields at their peak."
As the studio lights dimmed, Ashutosh stood alone in the dark for a moment. His Stage 4 Mental Processing was replaying the day's footage, identifying every micro-flaw.
'Not bad for day one,' he thought. 'But 'not bad' doesn't win Golden Globes. We have to go deeper.'