Chapter 6: Scandal, Press Conferences, and a New Beginning

To explain Arjun and Meera’s connection, you have to start with the film that made Arjun famous.

At twenty-four, he shot to fame as the tragic second male lead in director Kabir Sinha’s hit mytho-fantasy drama, "Udaan."

Everyone in my mohalla started calling me ‘Arjun ki Ritu’. It’s the way India loves to attach your name to someone else’s success.

It’s no exaggeration to say his career skyrocketed.

The next year, he and Meera—the popular actress who’d played the female lead—worked together again. Their sweet on-screen romance quickly grew a massive fanbase of shipper fans.

Meera’s company, Surya Films, offered Arjun a contract, on the condition that he hype up their on-screen pairing.

Arjun refused. At the peak of the "ArMeera" craze, he publicly announced me—a non-celebrity—as his girlfriend.

He was a responsible man, and at that time, he really loved me.

Even after the announcement, when Surya deliberately suppressed him and he went nearly a year without work—losing all the buzz from "Udaan"—he just pulled me into his arms when I felt guilty.

"Don’t apologise, Ritu. I love you. I won’t let you suffer for my choices. This was my own decision—you don’t need to feel guilty."

I felt my nose sting.

Even today, sometimes, I remember how his hands would find mine under the table at our dingy, shared kitchen. We survived on vada pav and dreams, and he still managed to smile for me.

At twenty-seven, Arjun accepted Meera’s invitation, and they worked together a third time on the film "Surya Ki Kirnein."

At twenty-eight, during reshoots, a paparazzi video of me and director Kabir Sinha entering and leaving a hotel together was leaked. I was blacklisted online, and my breakup with Arjun was anything but amicable.

In India, scandal sticks like haldi stains on your favourite kurta—everyone remembers, no one ever lets you wash it out.

At twenty-nine, he and Meera won Best Actor and Actress at that year’s National Film Awards for "Surya Ki Kirnein," making a stunning comeback. Arjun announced his relationship with Meera at the ceremony.

Shipper fans were ecstatic. Even solo fans tolerated the new girlfriend—after all, compared to me, Meera was clearly a better choice.

After that, their careers and relationship flourished. He became a triple Best Actor, and she was on her way to becoming a top-tier actress.

They dated for five years, but there was never any talk of marriage.

Rumours of a breakup would surface now and then, but shipper fans always shut them down fiercely.

This time, the shipper fans were obviously celebrating again.

[Clowns! Anyone shipping him and Ritu is just a clown. See? Our "ArMeera" couple is going strong—they’ll be married soon. Those who pity a certain cheating slut, hang onto your marriage certificate. There’s only one—don’t end up losing even that.]

[So happy! Lion and Cat (their couple nickname), you must stay together forever. Let us handle the trash that pops up.]

Soon, the video of me and Director Kabir from five years ago was dug up and "flogged" again—meaning people were once more dragging up old scandals to insult me.

My homepage was flooded with abuse, no less than back then.

I didn’t care much, just felt lucky that Director Kabir and his wife never used Instagram and wouldn’t see the filth.

I turned off my phone and kept working as usual.

In a few days, I had a tough battle ahead.

The hashtag #ArjunProposesToMeera trended for two whole days.

During those two days, everyone passionately discussed the carat size of Arjun’s proposal ring, the value of the farmhouse he rented for the proposal, the three nights of fireworks he arranged—how thoughtful and romantic it all was…

Aunty from 2B even asked me in the lift, “Beta, these film people, what tamasha, na? But the girl is lucky, you agree?” I just smiled and pressed my floor.

While netizens sent their blessings, most assumed this little drama would finally die down.

But then, another piece of news stirred the waters.

After "Udaan," director Kabir had no new works for nearly a decade.

Five years ago, not long after his screenwriter wife Shalini went abroad, Director Kabir also left the country, and there was no news of him for years.

For years, rumours swirled online that I was the third party who broke up their marriage, that Director Kabir’s wife left in anger because of me.

Others speculated they’d divorced five years ago, and Director Kabir had taken a pregnant lover abroad.

All kinds of rumours, but nothing ever confirmed.

Until today—Director Kabir’s team suddenly announced a livestream press conference three days later.

After ten years, he would once again collaborate with his wife to produce the next top-tier mytho-fantasy drama, "Divya Shakti."

The news caused a sensation.

Not because people expected much from the drama, but because my name was listed prominently among the main production staff.

[Disgusting! The homewreckers aren’t even pretending anymore.]

[I really feel for Ma’am Shalini—having to watch this 2+1 (meaning two spouses plus a mistress) flaunt themselves. How humiliating.]

[Heh, reporting this. Let’s all report the livestream—don’t let these shameless old scumbags get away with it.]

[My one-star review will haunt this show forever.]

No matter the online uproar, three days later the press conference went ahead as scheduled.

Director Kabir, a respected veteran in the industry, invited many old friends—artists and crew he’d worked with before.

To avoid gossip, he also invited Arjun and Meera, who—as expected—declined for various reasons.

Of course, they sent polite regrets through their managers. In Bollywood, nobody likes to be caught in real-life drama when the cameras aren’t rolling.

Before the livestream began, I went backstage with Director Kabir and his wife to go over the schedule one last time.

Ritu hesitated before opening her phone, glancing at her old WhatsApp family group, dreading the next ping.

"Ritu."

Aunty Shalini touched my face, her eyes full of concern.

"Are you alright?"

I smiled, nodding, and squeezed her hand in return. Her bangles jingled softly, a small comfort in the chaos.

"I’m fine, Aunty Shalini. It’s been so many years—I’ve already let it go. We should thank that couple for bringing us so much attention. They’ve basically saved us the promo budget."

She smiled too, though she couldn’t hide her worry.

"Alright, since the child says she’s fine, us old folks shouldn’t worry."

Director Kabir stood up and patted my shoulder.

Aunty Shalini took his arm.

"It’s time. Let’s go, Ritu."

The livestream went smoothly.

Director Kabir and his wife chatted with the host, discussing the new drama and their years studying abroad.

Everything was normal, with most questions about the show, until the media Q&A began.

"Director Kabir! Director Kabir!"

All the reporters pounced like wolves.

Director Kabir casually pointed to someone.

That reporter’s eyes lit up, and he quickly asked:

"Director Kabir, have you and your wife been abroad all these years?"

"Yes. As they say, you should always keep learning. Us old folks have to catch up with the young, so we settled down to study, to inject some new blood—can’t get left behind by the times."

"During your time abroad, was it just you and your wife? Was there anyone else?"

Director Kabir smiled at him, but his eyes were cold.

"Anyone else? Who do you think there would be? Or what answer are you hoping for? Are you trying to ask if I took Ritu abroad with me all these years?"

The room went silent, then the cameras started clicking like crazy.

Director Kabir’s smile vanished, his tone solemn:

"Regarding these baseless rumours over the years, today I’ll give a full answer. Ritu is a child my wife and I watched grow up—we love her like our own daughter.

And as for the question everyone’s cared about for years—why did Ritu and I enter and leave hotels together? Here’s my final answer. That year, I was meeting friends in Mumbai about ‘Udaan,’ and Ritu found me to ask if I could give her boyfriend, Arjun, a shot."

The reporter was stunned.

"So you mean, Arjun got the role in ‘Udaan’ because…"

"That’s right."

Director Kabir nodded, looking straight at the camera, enunciating each word:

"If it weren’t for Ritu, I would never have given Arjun that chance. At the time, he wasn’t qualified for my show. Agreeing to Ritu’s plea and breaking my own rules to let him audition is the decision I regret most in my life.

From today on, neither I nor my team will ever work with Mr. Arjun or his new wife, Ms. Meera, again. I will not cooperate with people who truly interfered in others’ relationships and let those I care about suffer years of baseless rumours—people who lack basic decency."

The room erupted in chaos.

As the press room filled with shouts and flashes, I slipped out quietly, feeling both lighter and strangely hollow, like the day after Diwali when all the fireworks are gone but the smoke still lingers.

At the same time, the final episode of the documentary was quietly released.

I stepped out into the corridor, the city still humming below. Somewhere, a new message buzzed on my phone. I didn’t check it—yet.

Somewhere, the city kept buzzing—horns, laughter, shouts, and the hiss of monsoon rain on the window grills. Life goes on, scandals fade, but some memories—like the taste of cutting chai or the feeling of being loved, once—never really leave you.