Later this morning I will be strangled by a Hindi gangster called Mr Biscuit and thrown onto a steel conveyor-belt and into an incinerator.
As might be surmised from the paragraph above my role as a Russian drug dealer in the movie Dum Maro Dum is coming to an end and unlike James Bond in Diamonds Are Forever I don’t get saved by the CIA; I am burnt to a crisp.
And believe me, those stories of actors doing their own stunts, in Bollywood, it is not a choice. Last night after 14 hours of learning lines of Russian dialogue, acting and a long day, the Action Director taught me how to fall and those bootmarks on my neck were real.
What makes things a little trickier is that my assassin is Aditya Pancholi, Bollywood’s leading villain, a role he is rumoured to replicate in real life and a man who doesn’t pull his punches. But it’s my first death scene and I’m going to scream the house down.
The slight downside is that my dancing scenes in the forest rave are to be expunged because the scenes have been rearranged, so the Indian public will be spared my shapes, but you can’t have it all. That’s not all. Some little fuckwit has also nicked my mobile phone from the set.
So, after being in two Bollywood films this brings to a temporary end my acting camera unless I get serious and engage an agent, but perhaps it might be time to get out while I’m still ahead. Already I have enough material to fill two books.
But my demise awaits and Aditya Pancholi has just knocked on the door of my trailer and somewhat threateningly asked me if I’m ready to meet my maker. See you in paradise.