The tricky bit is not in the falling, but in the stepping up, in the way you show off your willing readiness to fall. Take a deep breath, tug optimistically at the cords tied to you, and position yourself at the edge, ready for the drop.

Then the girl supposed to send you on your way chews impatiently on her gum, and says you're supposed to step much further up, so that you're balanced precariously on the edge, and can just totter off. She also tells you not to bend your knees -- no matter what -- because that makes breaking your neck a lot more likely.

Right. Talk about helpful counsel.

As of the moment you're reading this, I'm teetering on the edge, and the ripcords don't feel that stable. There isn't a safety net, and bookmakers would offer you sensational odds on my knees wilting as soon as I drop.

Things seemed far easier down below, as a film critic making snarky, occasionally well-informed comments on the weekly releases, but now I'm all set to squander my fly-on-the-wall status and enter Bollywood with an unholy splash. I'm going to make movies, and it's frightening how many pairs of hands are being rubbed in sadistic glee.

We are, of course, getting ahead of ourselves. I didn't wake up one fine morning to find myself being dubbed 'the most hated Indian online,' and I certainly didn't grow up dreaming of rating films on scales of one to five (half also included) stars. So how then have I clambered up this Bollywood totem pole?

Text: Raja Sen | Illustrations: Uttam Ghosh

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