Shoot.

Day one of shooting.

Sidharth sat in a plush makeup chair inside a vanity van, staring at his reflection. His hair was styled into neat waves, a faint kajal line under his eyes giving them more intensity. The costume team fussed over the deep blue kurta with silver embroidery.

Outside, he could hear live dhol players practicing — the beats were so powerful, they made the mirror shake ever so slightly.

He laughed to himself.

This is it. Not a set made to look like Punjab — actual Punjab. Real fields, real tractors, real villagers crowding to watch.

When he stepped outside, he found Diljit already on set, sipping lassi from a clay glass.

"Oye hero!" Diljit called out, waving. "Aaja. Today we start with full comedy. You tell me to keep my volume down — me, Diljit Dosanjh. Scene's already superhit."

They rehearsed their lines, the director smiling ear to ear. The cameras rolled, catching Sidharth's mock-annoyed expression as he scolded Diljit's character for being too loud at a family function.

Diljit burst out laughing mid-take.

"Bhai, tu serious itna hota hai ki main hass hi padta hoon. I'm breaking character because your eyes do this small scolding squint. Deadly!"

Sidharth shook his head, grinning.

"Bas. Now we'll need 20 takes."

By afternoon, giant speakers blasted a brand new song — dhols layered over an electric guitar riff. Dozens of background dancers whirled around them in colorful lehengas and turbans.

Sidharth stood next to Diljit, sweat beading down their temples.

"Ready gabru?" Diljit elbowed him.

"Always," Sidharth winked, then jumped into the choreography — quick bhangra steps, shoulders bouncing, arms slicing the air.

The villagers gathered behind the barricades started cheering wildly. A kid even yelled,

Diljit threw a playful hand up mid-dance, yelling back, "Paaji loves you too!"

Late evening, as golden hour painted everything soft and magical, Sidharth saw a familiar bunch near the catering tent.

Prerna was there in a pastel suit, phone already out recording reels. Harsh waved, wide grin on his face. Even Nischay and Abhishek had tagged along, sporting caps and trying to look incognito — failing spectacularly.

"Who gave these clowns access to my set?" Sidharth groaned, laughing.

Prerna ran up and hugged him.

"Are you kidding? This is history. Sid with Diljit — I wouldn't miss it even for YouTube's billionth subscriber!"

Harsh just fist-bumped him.

"Proud of you, superstar."

They stood behind the monitor screens, watching Sidharth deliver a soft, romantic line to the actress — his expression gentle, eyes crinkling just so.

Prerna clutched Harsh's arm.

"Look at him. How is this the same guy who hides chips packets under his bed?"

Nischay leaned in.

"Because he's acting. Real life mein toh we'd meme this scene to death."

Even Abhishek smiled quietly.

"But bro's killing it. No jokes."

During a break, Diljit walked up, hands pressed together in a playful namaste.

"Malhan parivaar! How's our new gabru hero doing?"

Prerna practically jumped.

"We've loved you forever! Also, if you ever want an awkward bhangra partner, I volunteer."

Diljit chuckled.

"Done. Next film — Prerna item number confirmed."

Sidharth groaned.

"Great. Now she'll never let me live this down."

By sunset, nearly a hundred fans had gathered beyond the security line, holding up posters, some even sketches of Sidharth and Diljit together.

One teenage girl shouted, voice cracking,

Diljit winked at him.

"Dekha? Insta superstar. Next they'll chase our vanity vans."

Sidharth just smiled, waving with both hands.

How far he'd come — from that heartbreak scene on TV… to this field, drenched in sweat, surrounded by love.

The last shot was a wide frame of the entire village dancing. As the cameras cut, the crew kept playing the song just for fun. Diljit pulled Sidharth into a tight one-armed hug.

"Aaj tu hero ban gaya. Tomorrow, even bigger. Remember veer ji — always keep that same smile. That's your real hit."

Sidharth laughed, feeling something warm explode in his chest.

Maybe that was the secret — stay the same boy inside, no matter how many lights or dhols followed.