Romnath, the cook, is a constant. So is Ashok, the driver. And the stocky doorman. As are the film editors for Ram Gopal Varma’s own directorial line-up: Nipun Gupta and Amit Parmar. So too his loyal public relations man, Ravi Prakash.

For a man given to public declarations of a revolving door policy when it comes to the cast and crew of his films, the new office of the professionally promiscuous Varma retains some old alliances.

The office itself, a temporary one on the second floor of a large commercial complex in the western suburbs of Mumbai, boasts of none of the flamboyant aesthetics of his earlier establishment, The Factory. Gone is the futuristic bright wood and chrome office. Gone too is the mega plasma TV and the much talked about velvet couch that celebrity visitors used to gawk at. Gone too are his old business partners, K Sera Sera. Change being the one constant in Varma’s life, the office décor which had become a talking point in the media has now been replaced by a more sedate, functional look.

Personally, too, his once staple bicep-baring tight tee has been tossed aside for a bright printed shirt. He was also all fashioned out at the Bachchan wedding where he came wearing a green kurta — or was it a shirt? Has he gone in for a makeover? “I thought the watchman may throw me out at the wedding, so I dressed for the watchman’s sake,” he replies. Who picks his wardrobe? “My driver shops for me, he selects my clothes. That is why my driver and I wear the same clothes. This (he points to his shirt) is his taste,” he grins. Come to think of it, Ashok does seem to be following his boss’s style.

RGV is skittish today. Apart from Factory productions like Shabri that are due later this year, his own directorial ventures occupy his mind. Coming up is Darling, a ghost-theme film, which is being produced by T-Series. The shooting for Sarkar 2, the sequel to his hit mafia film of 2005, is also underway. The legal wrangle over his use of the name ‘Sholay’ in the title of his remake of the eponymous classic has finally been sorted out. Since nothing is going to douse Varma’s fire, his rendition will now go by the somewhat awkward, if dogged, moniker of Ram Gopal Varma ki Aag. Unless, of course, Varma’s ever-fidgety imagination pulls off some last-minute surprise.

But today Varma is all talked out. It looks like the interview is going to yield slim pickings. Which may turn out to be a good thing. Through past meetings, one has discovered that Varma ke repartee can be more fun than an assessment of his life and times.

Varma’s present work station could be the office of an export company, with the boss getting the capacious room with the corner view. It’s sunny in here. The desk has some files and a Dell laptop. And across the room is a TV monitor with a DVD player.

Coffee is called for while the tête-à-tête unspools. Hema Malini aka Basanti has gone on record that she is unhappy with his choice of Nisha Kothari for her role in the remake. “I like all Hema’s decisions (sic). She doesn’t like mine. Fine. Everyone is upset with something or the other about the film. But they have no idea of what I am making,” he smiles.

Is Amitabh Bachchan the only actor from Sholay to act in Varma’s version? “No, there is Sachin too.” Bachchan has been cast as the evil Gabbar, originally essayed by newcomer Amjad Khan whose performance swept away the rogues’ hall of fame forever. Sachin, seen in the original as young Ahmed whose lifeless body is flung on the back of a horse and despatched to the village by Gabbar, surfaces in the remake as his executor’s brother.

Varma chortles suddenly. “When my film releases, I think Dharamji (who played Veeru in the original film) is going to give me one punch in the nose. They (original crew and cast) will beat me up. I will die. They want to give critics and audience a respite from my films.” Warming up to the scenario, he goes on, “Amitji will say ‘I was just doing what RGV asked me to do’. Everyone will blame the director. I will be all alone in this big wide world. Once in the fray, you can’t be heroic. I will run off. (Pause). To Africa. (Smiles widely). To the Congo basin.”

He paces up and down as he talks, then calls for some tea. Varma’s version will also see his former favourite doing the Helen cabaret number. How was it working with Urmila Matondkar? “Horrible.” He stops walking. “What kind of question is that?” A simple one. They collaborated on many films and then one day the collaboration stopped, so how was it directing her again? Did he keep in touch with her when they were not filming together? “If I don’t have work with people, I don’t keep in touch. Basically, I am an anti-social person. An anti-social element. Anti-family. An atheist. (Pause). Have you seen the religious channels on television? People actually watch them,” he says with wonder.

Of all the films he has made in recent years, he is most happy about Nishabd. Not surprising, since his preferred film usually happens to be his last. “A film is like an idea,” he reflects. “When it’s executed it cannot be the same as the original idea. Nor can it be completely unique. Nishabd was the closest I came to carrying out my concept.”

The nonconformist from Hyderabad, who arrived in Bollywood two decades ago, has run up hits like Rangeela, Satya, Company and Sarkar and box-office duds like Naach and Nishabd. The Ram Gopal Varma Productions company has also midwifed many talented actors, writers, lyricists and directors. Where does he stand today as a film-maker? “I stand on the floor,” he deadpans. “Films are made in my mind. It is none of anyone’s business how I make my films or my creative partnerships. I don’t have time to answer people’s questions.”

His present business partner is Adlabs, a film processing company that over the years has evolved into an ambitious entertainment company and is now owned by the Anil Dhirubhai Ambani Enterprises group.

Rumour has it that RGV may be switching business partners once again. He may return to his former producer — diamond merchant Bharat Shah. “No, right now I am with Adlabs,” he says blandly.

All he wants is to make films. “I am not a businessman. Films are all I know. I wouldn’t know what to do with a day off. All my days are holidays since my work is what I enjoy doing. It’s not something I am compelled to do.”

He is directing more stars and established actors, fewer raw talent. Where does that leave freshers for whom Varma’s company was once considered a movie mecca? “Newcomers have stopped coming to me because of all the flops I made like James and Shiva (the new one). So I have to work with the stars now,” he quips before pointing out that his Veeru is being played by newcomer Prashant. However, Sarkar 2 toplines the Bachchan parivar, new addition included.

What about his family? His answer is a resigned look: “Let’s leave family out of it please,” he says. Anything that cranks up the publicity for his films he is game to try but rarely does his media machine stray into his personal life. A music director comes in with a background sound track. Melody fills the room and Varma listens. “It’s absolutely not what I want,” he tells the young woman. “The groove is completely off-putting. The raciness is being cut.” She exits, sangfroid intact.

We change the topic to Sivaji. “It’s a fantastic film,” Varma says. “You need a different kind of mindset to make something like that. I am not capable of it.”

There is someone waiting to see him. An assistant comes with a sheaf of photographs. Ravi Prakash brings a publicity schedule printout. Time’s up.

“Do you want to see the trailer?” he asks as I prepare to leave. Of course. Whatever title the film eventually releases with, there is no doubt which trailer he is referring to. In the darkened editing room, Gabbar, oops, Babban Singh, awaits.