In the frenetic and exhausting dance of Bollywood films, his footwork has been dangerously slow. Despite the Vinod Khanna legacy, the collateral network and brother, Akshaye's professional standing, the languid actor is taking his own time coming to terms with the masala movies. GEETA RAO keeps a date with the lesser known, but equally charming, Rahul Khanna.

He walks into the minimalist bar at Indigo in South Mumbai, dressed elegantly in black jeans and striped shirt, looking younger than his 32 years. But he exudes a sophisticated assurance as he orders a martini. "With Bombay Sapphire," he specifies. Very posh. Then he smiles his lazy, languid, heartbreakingly lopsided smile that bespeaks both arrogance and vulnerability and I find myself instantly distracted from the task of throwing searing and incisive questions up into the chic Indigo airspace.

There is something about actor, Rahul Khanna, that makes Meera, the very cool 20-something stylist at the uber trendy Juice, at Bandra in suburban Mumbai, say thoughtfully, "Rahul is different, he's got class." Whatever that intangible, indefinable word means, if Meera, the blonde-streaked Pali Hill 'It Girl', says so, it should be taken seriously. She defines the new audience that Rahul must carry with him as he makes his serious foray into the world of mainstream Hindi cinema. His oeuvre has been interesting but sporadic at best. The face of MTV-Asia for four years, a dream debut as Hassan in Deepa Mehta's Earth, a masala mix as Rahul in Bollywood-Hollywood, a walk-on part in Spike Lee's 3 AM, a short role in the Kevin Kline-starrer, The Emperor's Club, an off-Broadway theatre stint in East is East. An eminently forgettable role in Bawandar and a quiet retreat for a couple of years. In the frenetic and exhausting dance of Bollywood films, Rahul's footwork has been dangerously slow. There is an approach-avoidance to Bollywood that he has worked on and is now coming to terms with. "For a long time," he says slowly, "Hindi movies were a void." It could have been the fact that as a kid, Bollywood was kept away or it could have been the fact that he is an intensely private person or it could be the timing. At the time of his debut it was the Govinda school of drama, pre-crossover Bollywood, that set the rules and Rahul's geographical spread - Malabar Hill, New York, and Singapore - was definitely not suited for the journey.

Talk to him about theatre and he lights up. Considering he has only had one big role, is he faking this great enthusiasm for the theatre? "No, I am not," he says indignantly. An eyebrow arches aristocratically. He resents my accusation. He 'loved' his East is East role, 'loved' frying chips on stage for all the hours the role required and 'loved' the good press he got. It was a moment in time that everything seemed to work for him. Earth, happened, auditions came by, the 'colour blind' casting that theatre and Hollywood was trying to follow gave Asian actors hope. "But", he says, with a touch of wistfulness for a way of life he has had to let go of, "9/11 really did change a lot of things."

For the rest of the article, pick up VERVE’s January-February, 2005 issue