Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai’s fate hung precariously from the movie spool as our correspondent ran the projector for an evening show of Jodhaa Akbar

Never again. Nothing will make me sit through another four-hour movie, I had told myself as I walked out of a Jodhaa Akbar show last week—not even a date with Hrithik Roshan. Barely a week later, I had to eat my hat (after that hideously expensive popcorn) and watch the film again—this time, from the projector window at Sangam Cinema, one of the last-standing, single screen movie halls in New Delhi, where I would be the projector assistant for the 4 p.m. show.

Sangam is all about nostalgia—about the days before multiplexes when we could buy tickets for Rs 20, when we would happily settle down on rickety chairs and rock regally, when we would turn back to look at the white light streaming from the projector room and see it magically come to life on the screen.

I walked up the stairs with the hall’s general manager S.K. Chugh, past signboards that read “no smoking” and “silence please”, and into a partially lit room, where three antique projectors sat one after the other. Against each of them were two square windows, one for the projector lens and the other for the operator to keep an eye on the screening. “These projectors are more than three decades old,” said Vijay Verma, the head operator and my guru for the next four hours. “It’s not easy,” Verma warned me. “One wrong move and you’ll be booed out of your head.” At least I am behind this little window and as long as the audience can’t see me, they can boo all they want, a little rebel voice inside me said.

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