That was her state of mind when she finally reached the Pierre, where the concierge had a message for her. It was from Sahil Malik. At first, she thought it was somebody else, but as soon as she called back and heard the inimitable hoarse voice that had derided the state of Indian film music in numerous interviews on the radio, she knew it was the Sahil Malik – the famous composer who had delivered exquisitely-produced songs for Bazaar, a film firmly etched in the annals of Indian cinema. From the endlessly-playable chaashni to the seductive title song, as well as the ebullient and almost anthemic instrumental theme, Sahil had caught the imagination of pre-Independence India with his wide repertoire. It is said that Subhash Chandra Bose blasted the theme song from Bazaar for his troupes before entering the arena of war, and that he freely drew from Malik’s songs in the many speeches he gave on Free India Radio. Had Bose not gone missing after getting on that fateful flight, and brought freedom to India instead of Gandhi, one of Sahil’s songs would have become the country’s national anthem. And yet, he stopped making music after the one movie. The world does not deserve my art, he had declared.

But now, the mercurial composer had decided to stage a comeback. He had been frantically searching for a single voice that could do justice to his compositions, travelling to Calcutta, Lucknow, Madras and Goa, and finally to Bombay, where he chanced upon Meera’s scratch recordings for a trifling advertisement. ‘The surest way to a man’s heart,’ Meera had cooed one last time before she had stormed out of the recording booth. The vapid scratch tape had landed in Sahil’s hands. A mere sentence that was spoken, not sung, was enough for him to know that he had found the voice he had been looking for.

‘You must come to Bombay at once,’ Sahil ordered Meera over the phone, ditching any formal greetings. ‘We have work to do.’

All those years of struggle flashed before Meera’s eyes – hours of riyaz at the crack of dawn, the way she’d laboured over every khayal while the world slept and how she’d knocked on every door she could find. Her waking dreams of being recognized one day – was this that day? Meera felt herself grow warm with longing. She found herself wondering whether the opportunity had come too early and too easily; whether she had paid her dues, or whether she would be branded an imposter the moment she sang in Sahil Malik’s presence.