The silence that wafted through the air of the vanity van was exhilarating. I thought it would offer me a minute of solace after the blinding lights, thunderous applause and uproar, but it made me crave the attention once more — and not in the way I liked. It was contradicting… Attention was… nice. As long as it remained behind a barricade with bouncers acting as a shield. The world of glamour has everything to offer — fame, riches and possibly immortality in the hearts of people.

Yet none speak of the things it takes away. I looked at myself in the mirror, a dejected sigh escaping my lips as my hands moved lazily to wipe off the heavy makeup from my face.

The vanity van was peaceful at times; the chatter remained numb and blurred outside once its door closed. Perhaps the only true thing of an actor is the breakdown in the vanity van — tears that flow not because of glycerin, but because of exhaustion.

The mirror gazed back at me. There was a self facing me that looked nothing like the star that had existed a few minutes ago. Eyeliner messed up, lipstick ruined, mascara streaming down with stray tears — a self I had seen countless times but could do nothing to save.

A knock broke the train of thought of my restless mind. I flinched, before furiously wiping away the remnants of glamour from my face with urgency. "Yes, come in!" I called out. Panic flared as I tried to hide the evidence of a breakdown — my self-wallow time had been interrupted, and it was not the first time.

The door opened and in entered Chaudary Sahab, dressed in a long pathani suit with a book tucked under his arm. "Oh, Chaudary Sahab! Shama did inform me that you would be visiting me, although the vanity van is not the place I had imagined," I said, clearing space on the small sofa for him to sit and tossing my scarf and belongings on the table. He laughed, settling down and handing me the book.

"There are few things that simply cannot wait for a proper cordial place of meeting. When struck with brilliance, I tend to act then and there — otherwise the idea simply remains a ghost of my brain's musings."

"Well, what is the brilliance? Pray tell me," I mused, inspecting the soft, textured leather-bound book in my hands. Albela Sajan, it was titled. My enchanting beloved — a rough translation of the phrase — perfectly suited for a romantic movie, which seemed to be all the craze right now, especially since everyone wishes to be a romantic hero or heroine.

"Is it a romantic movie?" I asked the mad but brilliant director.

He laughed. "I don't have the right term to describe it. It is nowhere close to a romantic drama."

"Then what is it?"

"A bright and famous movie star discovers her husband has been cheating on her and frequenting a brothel," he began narrating. "Out of curiosity to know the woman he had been frequenting, she goes to the red light district to find her. The woman, however, is nothing as she had imagined, and she forms a friendship with her. A simple movie, if you ask me — nothing complicated or mind-boggling. The sisterhood which forms between them on the basis of their struggles is the premise of the story."

He was always a brilliant narrator — a talent of writers and directors that draws the artist in, the script and the way they narrate it. Chaudary Sahab was already a mad artist, a student of the legendary Satyajit Ray and a man with radical ideas that always caught me off guard.

I still remembered that five years was what it took me. Five years ago I was waiting behind queues, at the back of the crowd for auditions, feet hurting and stomach crying for a morsel of food while the wait tested my patience and my urge for survival. It was not just a passion, acting. It was survival, no matter how bright the spotlights were.

So when the same man spotted me from a corner and gave me a role in Aapki Laila, it was not long before I became a household name as an emerging actress. From a small-town girl to a rising star — Chaudary Sahab was the man who gave me a second life. Not once, but twice.

With Qurbani I rose on the screens once again, one of the biggest hits of my career, which earned me a glistening gold award that was proudly displayed on the mantel. I knew that anything Chaudary Sahab envisioned, I would blindly say yes to. I knew that about myself, and I had that trust in him as well.

Even if the idea was too advanced, the waters were changing. Hit or flop, I would not regret saying yes.

"Who do you want me to play?" I asked finally. He looked me in the eye, a mad glint reflected in the dark pools of his irises — one that, not going to lie, did scare me, because the man loved challenges.

"The other woman."

"The… other woman," I repeated. "The prostitute, you mean." Not what I had expected, although I had seen it coming — he had a way of making his heroines play the most groundbreaking characters. He made me play a deranged lover who murdered people in the name of love so nothing surprised me anymore.

"I first envisioned you as the movie star, but there was something in me that said… perhaps Tara would be much better suited for a role that would test her, push her limits. You do not have to worry about showing cleavage and all — I don't plan on adding such unnecessary scenes."

"It is not nudity or cleavage I fear," I interjected. "How do I even… play a prostitute? Their mannerisms, their accents, the way they behave — it is a whole different world."

He was silent for a second, taking the book back in his hands. He flipped through the written and weathered pages until some photos fell out. "These photos," he began, "are of Kamathipura. The red light district. A few of my researchers took photos of the brothels there — standing tall for more than a century."

Kamathipura. The infamous red light district of Mumbai. The photos showed dilapidated buildings covered with curtains, bright with red and neon lights, while women stood on high platforms — their blouses plunging, revealing their décolletage to interested customers and onlookers on the road.

"You can go there, visit the place yourself and perhaps talk with a worker. Take someone with you for protection. Research makes a world of difference, Sitara. Who knows — maybe you might find an unconventional friend in her as well." He stood up abruptly and began to leave.

"Wait! Sir, you haven't told me when we would start filming, or who my costars are — you haven't even narrated the story in detail!" I exclaimed.

"It is still an idea, Tara. It has not spread its wings yet. The day you feel you are ready is the day I will start shooting. Until then, just keep me informed of your adventures."

With that, the mad director left, leaving me utterly confused in my vanity van.