Year: 2002–2003
Location: Mumbai – Barry John Acting Studio
The iron gate of Barry John Acting Studio stood tall in front of Krishna, painted in faded black but holding the weight of countless dreams. The morning sun fell gently on the building, and the air smelled of dust, sweat, and ambition. Krishna stood still for a moment, his heart beating fast.
This was not just another place.
This was where dreams either rose… or broke forever.
He took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The hallway buzzed with voices—young men and women from different corners of India. Some looked confident, others nervous. Some dressed in stylish clothes, others simple and plain like Krishna. But all of them shared one thing: a dream to become an actor.
Krishna filled out his admission form carefully.
Name: Krishna
Age: 18
Course: One-Year Diploma in Acting
When he submitted the form, the clerk nodded and pointed him toward the main classroom.
The First Class
The classroom was large, with wooden floors, mirrors on one side, and rows of chairs. Krishna took a seat in the last row, quietly observing everyone. His clothes were simple—washed-out shirt, old jeans, and worn shoes. Compared to others wearing branded clothes, he looked plain. But his eyes were sharp, calm, and full of focus.
Soon, the door opened.
A tall man with styled hair, confident walk, and sharp eyes entered the room. His presence alone silenced the chatter.
"Good morning, future celebrities," the man said firmly.
Everyone straightened.
"I am your acting instructor," he continued. "And before we begin, let me make something very clear."
He walked slowly across the room.
"This industry doesn't care about your background. It doesn't care who your father is, unless he's powerful enough to launch you. Acting is not a dream—it's a battlefield."
The room went silent.
"If you don't have skill, discipline, and hunger," he continued, "you will be thrown out without mercy. Talent alone is not enough. Hard work alone is not enough. You need both."
Krishna listened deeply. Every word hit his heart.
"Many of you came here thinking fame is easy. It is not. Acting is not glamour. It is pain, sacrifice, and years of rejection."
The teacher's eyes scanned the room and suddenly stopped on Krishna.
"You. Blue eyes. Stand up."
Krishna stood immediately.
"What is your name?"
"Krishna, sir."
The teacher studied him for a moment. "Good looks. Unique eyes. But looks mean nothing here. Acting is everything. Clothes, body language, speech—you must rebuild yourself completely."
"Yes, sir," Krishna replied respectfully.
The teacher nodded. "Sit down. We'll see how far you go."
At that moment, Krishna understood—this place would break him before it made him.
The Reality of Acting
Days turned into weeks. Training began seriously.
Voice modulation.
Body language.
Improvisation.
Emotional exercises.
Theatre games.
Students were asked to cry, laugh, scream, and express emotions in front of everyone. Many failed. Some cried and left.
Krishna struggled too.
There were moments he couldn't express emotions properly. Times when his voice trembled. Moments when the teacher shouted, "Again! Do it again!"
But he never quit.
At night, he practiced in front of a cracked mirror in his rented room. He copied expressions from movies he had watched in his previous life—classic Bollywood performances, realistic actors, even South Indian cinema.
He remembered how in his past life, after 2020, many star kids failed despite massive promotions.
"Talent cannot be bought," he thought.
"I will not fail this time."
Money was always short.
To survive, Krishna took small jobs—typing work, helping in offices, doing data entry, and even assisting at small shops. His computer skills helped him earn small but steady income.
At night, he studied acting books and watched old performances on his phone.
He also began learning dance seriously—classical steps, body control, and rhythm. His body, trained since childhood, adapted quickly.
Slowly, teachers started noticing him.
"Your improvement is fast," one instructor said.
"You're serious about this," said another.
But praise never made him careless.
As months passed, Krishna learned the bitter truth about the film industry.
Nepotism was real. Many students had famous parents or connections. They got better chances, more attention.
He saw talented students quit because of rejection. Some returned home defeated. Others changed careers.
He remembered the future he had seen in his past life—how many star kids failed despite big launches.
"This industry eats the weak," he thought.
But instead of fear, it fueled his determination.
One night, after returning from class, Krishna stood on the terrace of his rented building. The city lights shimmered below. The moon hung quietly above.
He raised his hand toward the sky.
"I was born with nothing," he whispered.
"No family. No support. No shortcuts."
"But this time, I will not lose."
"I will become an actor—not because of luck or background, but because I deserve it."
The wind brushed his face as if acknowledging his promise.
That night, Krishna slept with a calm heart.
He had chosen his path.
And this time, he would walk it till the end.