A star, in the making!

Kabir decided to try his luck in Bollywood. He took a train to Mumbai.
The pangs of hunger were now showing their narrow teeth. Kabir realized he hadn’t eaten anything. Had he? Did he?
Or was it excitement? Was it, or it wasn’t?
Kabir knew his residence needed to be renovated; the shabby walls weren’t fit for new SRK posters. They weren’t.
The shanty slums, the ‘not at all’ good looking home needed a repair. Stars can’t stay in slums.
Can they? If they can’t how could Kabir?
He could, he could tolerate the pangs, of hunger and emotions…
How could he?
Star in the making, was that a reason? Was that so?
Kabir never had luck; he wasn’t the destiny’s child. Or was he?
How could he not be even an extra in the local film industry? Or why should he?
A star was he, he was a star. Was he?
Kabir Alam, dreamt of becoming a Kabir Khan, a Bollywood starlet. Big dream indeed.
Dared he? He dared…
To dream it, dream it big.
He could have easily topped over the other lads of the slums who either did a disco dancer act, or mimicked a comedian. Kabir didn’t have to.
He was a star, in the making—a star!
Ammi would often treat him as a ‘chand’ while feeding him in childhood days.
A star was he, he was.
A star, in the making—a star!
Kabir knew Bollywood would be a land of fantasies, a land of fun and frolic.
Fun, eh?
Fun for him, for a star, he was, in the making…!
Was it all fun? Was it?
Wondered the lanky lad, wondered a star, he was, in the making.
How could he reside in a slum, how could he?
Stars aren’t meant to work as extras. They aren’t. They aren’t. Are they?
He was a star; he was, in the making!
Life would change, it would, for Kabir. The producers would knock on his door with offers and endorsements.
They would. They would do it for a star.
Life, magic remains there. Magic; of being a star.
Star he was he was a star—in terms of logic!
Would the magic work? Reasoned the lad, reasoned he.
He could dance, could sing, and could act. He could, he could…
Is it enough to fulfill the needs? Is it? Enough?
Enough to be a star, eh?
Kabir always wanted to be a star. Ammi’s refusal, Abba’s worries weren’t a problem for him. No more.
He was a star. A star he was—in the making.
The clock just stroke, it was a dizzy morning in the city, the teenage lad Kabir just woke up. He had a tight sleep. A starry one, dreaming was fun. For him, for a star.
A star was he; he was a star—in the making!
The dizzy morning showed the day, Kabir dressed up to go to his work—a newspaper vendor. That was Bollywood for him, and that bicycle was his train to the Bollywood.
Was it so? Or, it was just a journey? What was it?
A starry dream he had last night of catching a train to Bollywood.
To become a star…
A star he was, he was a star in the making!
A star in the game called life!