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From The Edge Of The Abyss
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| Photographs by Akash Mehta | ||||||||||||||||
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Published: Volume 13, Issue 1, January - February, 2005
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Like the legion of adventurers before him, he too came to Mumbai in search of the moon. For a brief moment, he got both his hands on it then it slipped away. Today, Ronit Roy has finally found his slice of sky on television, playing the much-talked about Rishabh Bajaj and Mihir Virani in two popular soaps. Madhulika Varma meets the actor who both lost and found himself, on the spiralled road to success.
As a darned good-looking little boy in Ahmedabad, he wanted to be a film hero like Bruce Lee and Amitabh Bachchan. When he was 19, his dad bought him a ticket to the town he'd dreamed about all his life. Mumbai. The address he gave him, belonged to an old friend, a man called Subhash Ghai. "Ghaisaab is like my father," Roy explains. "I couldn't question his authority, so I put my dream on hold and worked my knuckles down, cooking, bartending, cleaning, waiting tables sometimes, when the heart sank in despair, I'd throw a mild tantrum....Then Dad died." It was as if he'd stepped on a high-tension wire.
And then that call came. The one he had been waiting for virtually all his life. Director, Deepak Balraj, had seen him in a shampoo ad and wanted to cast him in a romantic musical, Jaan Tere Naam. Jaan Tere Naam was a success. From the perennially short-of-funds assistant director in scruffy shoes, he was 'Ronit Roy', the rising new star. "Girls recognised me on He bought his first pair of shades and a Mercedes Benz and dived into the wicked world of the rich and famous. "I partied hard, drank like crazy I would report for work with bags under my eyes and a massive hangover. I was on extreme overdrive. I wanted to drink it all up in a single gulp." he cringes. And, so began the slow drift into darkness. His wife was flung into the vortex with him. He remembers that night, "I packed up all my fancy gear into my Mercedes and left." Some nights he would sleep in his car. Or find a hotel and drink himself to sleep, and go shoot in the morning. Or party with friends till the early hours of the morning. "Anything to escape myself. There was no sense of self, no introspection, all the lights were out. It was as if I had taken an eraser and I was rubbing out my own existence." For the rest of the article, pick up VERVEs January-February, 2005 issue
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