Mumbai, May 6: Actor Salman Khan was today convicted and sentenced to five years' rigorous imprisonment for culpable homicide in a hit-and-run case in which a man sleeping on a pavement was killed in 2002.

However, like many of the characters he enacts with gusto on screen, India's most bankable star raced against time and exercised his constitutional right to secure interim bail for two days in the blink of an eye.

The sessions court remained open for two hours beyond its closing time - a work culture that ensured all formalities were completed and he could go home in the evening.

Salman had stepped into the court at 10.35am - well ahead of the 11am set by D.W. Deshpande, the Bombay civil and sessions court judge.

Then followed the sequence of events whose twists and turns can keep pace with many movies graced by Salman.

Around 11.10am, the judge takes his seat. He turns towards Salman who is standing in the witness box.

The judge leans towards the Dabangg star, looks at him and says quietly: "You were driving the car."

Salman looks whiplashed.

(Salman had said in his deposition that his driver Ashok Singh was driving the Toyota Land Cruiser on the night of September 28, 2002, when Nurullah Mehboob Sharif was run over and four were injured.)

Salman stands ramrod-straight, staring at the judge.

The judge carries on: "You did not have a licence."

(He had told the court that he lost the licence. The RTO records have proved otherwise. The licence Salman now holds traces its roots to 2007.)

Salman grabs the railing of the witness box.

The judge drives it in: "You were drunk."

(Salman had claimed he had ordered and consumed water at the bar he had visited with his friends and brother before driving back.)

The judge looks up and delivers the verdict: "All charges proved."

It is 11.15am - and it dawns on the packed courtroom that the superstar had been convicted.

The actor's lawyer Shrikant Shivade gets up: "Your honour, this is so disappointing."

As the judge and Shivade speak to each other, Salman looks at his family and friends scattered around the courtroom filled with reporters, policemen, lawyers and onlookers.

Salman's eyes well up - he looks up, then down and closes his eyes. It appears he is battling to control his emotions. He takes a minute but succeeds.

His sisters, Alvira and Arpita, are in two different rows. They begin to cry.

His brothers, Arbaaz and Sohail, and his brother-in-law, Atul Agnihotri, sit frozen in the third row.

(Arbaaz, Alvira and Arpita were the first family members to reach the court in the morning. They had entered the court near the Churchgate station through the front gate, as had Sohail and Atul. Salman had taken the rear gate. The star had been driven in his white Mercedes by Ashok Singh, who had taken the blame in court during the hearing.)

The defence lawyer seeks permission to begin arguments pleading leniency of sentence.

Sohail and Arbaaz get up and leave the courtroom - they have received word that their mother Salma has taken ill after getting to know that Salman has been convicted.

"Don't take too long - wrap this up soon," Judge Deshpande tells Shivade.

But the lawyer carries on for an hour although the judge reminds him to finish off quickly a couple of times.

Shivade refers to some high-profile hit-and-run cases. "In none of these cases, the court has given more than three years," he tells the court, pleading for an equivalent sentence for Salman.

The judge looks on.

"We are ready to give any amount of compensation to the victims, my client has already given Rs 19.5 lakh to the court as compensation for victims," says Shivade.

(The amount is yet to be disbursed among the victims and their families.)

Salman looks tired. There is no chair in the box. He shifts his weight from one leg to other.

The defence begins listing Salman's charitable acts. Salman looks uncomfortable, gesticulates at Shivade.

Shivade now changes tack and tells the court Salman is ill. "He has an earache," the lawyer says.

Salman looks utterly taken aback.

"What are you doing?" he asks his lawyer.

The lawyer persists with the ill-health argument. He produces a doctor's prescription dated November 2014. Then he tells the judge Salman is a heart patient and a neurological patient - so he deserves a lenient sentence.

Salman now looks fed up - he stretches his hand and asks his lawyer to stop. His words are lost in the courtroom din.

Around noon, the drone gets louder - the lawyers and the judge cannot hear each other now and the judge brings down his hammer for order in the courtroom. Hordes of onlookers have entered the courtroom, displacing many people who were authorised to view the proceedings.

The judge stops proceedings, asks the police to throw the intruders out, bring the authorised people waiting outside into the courtroom and shut the door. The court is now an oven. Salman sweats profusely, so do others.

It is time for the prosecution's arguments on the quantum of sentence. The judge hurries up the prosecutor, too.

"Your honour, you gave the defence one hour. Give me 15 minutes," says the prosecutor and then presents an aggressive plea for the maximum sentence of 10 years.

Judge asks Salman: "You have anything to say?'

"I was not driving the car," he replies.

His sisters cover their faces and sob. Salman gestures to them not to cry.

At 12.30pm, the arguments end. The judge announces he will deliver the sentence at 1.10pm after a break. Salman and his family move out of the courtroom with their lawyers.

At 1.10pm, when the court reconvenes, the lights go out in the courtroom. It is a power failure.

Onlookers again enter the courtroom. The judge again throws them out and shuts the door.

In the semi-dark, packed courtroom, lights come in through a couple of slim windows. The atmosphere is oppressive in more ways than one - the wait and the heat are killing. Salman's siblings surround him to keep him closeted from the media and others, while the judge waits for electricity to return.

When power does not return even after 20 minutes, the judge returns from his chamber and announces the sentence.

"Charged under all sections," he says. Salman is handed a sentence of five years in jail.

The court doors open. Many move out. Salman and his family stay on.

The actor looks war-beaten, forlorn. He runs his hands repeatedly through his hair and face, wipes sweat. Speaks to his family.

A rush begins in the defence team to get Salman bail from the high court - the sessions court does not have jurisdiction to do so in cases in which the sentence is over three years in jail.

Outside, a man dressed as Salman Khan cries.

A group of Tamil protesters celebrate the conviction.

(Salman had supported then Sri Lankan President Mahinda Rajapaksa, during whose tenure Tiger supremo Velupillai Prabhakaran was killed, and participated in his election campaign. Actress Jacqueline Fernandez, said to be close to Salman now, is counted as a friend of Rajapaksa's son.)

Rushing to secure bail, Salman's defence team led by Supreme Court lawyer Harish Salve - who has flown down from Delhi for this - manage to bring up a petition before Justice A.M. Thipsay of Bombay High Court.

Salve mentions Salman's ill-health and the unavailability of the conviction order while seeking interim bail.

"A person cannot be arrested on the basis of a summarised court order," Salve says.

Justice Thipsay replies: "He has been out on bail these past 12 years."

The judge grants Salman an extension of the bail by two more days.

The high court will hear Salman's bail plea on May 8.

It is a rush against time - the bail document has to be produced in the sessions court before Salman can go home.

The courts close at 5pm. But the court stays open for two more hours today.

The legal formalities get over at 7.15pm. Salman leaves for his seaside home in Galaxy Apartments at Bandra.

He is driven by the same Ashok Singh.