She is a picture of intense, studied concentration. Recovering from a nasty bout of flu, she lets nothing distract her as the choreographer takes her through the intricate steps of a vigorous lavani. Hair coiled up loosely in a topknot, face squeaky clean, dressed in a simple white T-shirt and brown corduroys, the slim, petite figure could easily pass for a final-year grad student. Waving a hand in greeting, and signalling that she will be with me in five minutes, she twirls about rhythmically on the polished floor, her movements reflected in the massive mirror across one wall.

Exactly five minutes later, Urmila Matondkar flops down on the bench, next to me. Niceties over, she leans back, slightly breathless with exhaustion…and prepares to face the fiery fusillade of questions stars are traditionally treated to. But, curious as to how the child artiste turned actress, has matured over the years – I’d met her almost aeons ago when she’d been bubbly-eyed about her then recent release, Rangeela – I set the ball rolling gently, referring to the excellent year she’s had.