There
she was!
Although
the restaurant was crowded with many families and friends busy
catching up over a Sunday brunch, it wasn't difficult at all to spot
her as she walked in. She is walking slowly towards me and smiling.
We are meeting after a sabbatical of 15 years (I'm still clueless as
to who decided to take a break in the first place.). She has always
been pretty for me, but today, Shashi looks ethereal in what appears
to be a typical Sabyasachi's sari - white (her favorite color, but of
course), self-on-self print and a strikingly large yellow border.
Must say madam is aging gracefully and elegantly and what am gonna
say to her? “O my God! Just look at you S (I've always called her
that). You look stunning!”, I stammered and spoke, gushing like a
teenager as I threw my arms open to give her the tightest hug ever
(how much I missed you). In response, she just rolled her big
hypnotic eyes, broke into her naughty smile and landed into my arms
to hug me back. That very instant, all those golden years of my life
that I spent with S came rushing back into my head and that's exactly
what I wanted. A slow, carefree walk around memory lanes, with her by
my side.
I
pulled out a chair for her as she gently sat down. I noticed how
lady-like she became. How subtle and poised were her mannerisms.
“Thank you darling”, she said as she placed her bag on the vacant
chair beside her. “You came alone?” I asked pretending to be
surprised. Pretending because I wanted her to come alone without any
distraction. I did not want to share S with anyone...not even her
family, at least for a while. “Yes bubba,” she said, “this is
especially for you. Look how I have jhazzed up for you?” We
both laughed. It was always challenging for S to say Jazz and even
her best effort would make her say Jhaaz.
I
have always remembered her naughtiness and comic-timing to the core
during our college days. Every act of her has left an impression on
me. I remember her enacting the whole episode of how once she got
cornered by three men, whom she was suppose to pay-back some money,
But the Chaalbaaz that S was...she started narrating a
sob-story in full Meena Kumari style of her cancer-struck mother for
who's treatment she used up the money and actually wanted some more.
Seeing her pitiful state, the men ended-up lending her more money.
'How would I ever repay this debt and reciprocate your favors?' she
asked them putting on a dramatically sad face, to which they replied
together in sync, 'slowly, slowly Manju, (Manju was one of her con
names!) slowly slowly.' All of us were in splits on hearing this
ridiculously funny incident. With her oval looks and big eyes, she
could easily fool many. Remind her of that today and she burst out
laughing with embarrassment, “O god, you fraud, how do you remember
all this?” and broke into more loud laughter.
Coming
back to her switching-self, I must add that S was quiet popular with
her 'double-role' act way back in 80s and 90s. Once while dating this
guy, she turned her modern-look (Rita) into more apt 'desi' one
(Radha) because, “he thought women who wear sari are good character
ones than those who wear western clothes”, how foolish and narrow
minded, she said and wanted to teach him some lesson. Poor chap, he
fell for her antic and made a big fool of himself and got ditched
later. Must have got to do something with his bad Karma. LOL!
“I
cant believe it (ahem ahem she still got her madrasi accent
intact and said BEELEW instead). “Now that you're bringing these
up, its slowly hitting me how much fun we used to have back in those
days,” she said, winking at me and hinting at her biggest
achievement in fooling people.
“CHARLIE
CHAPLIN!!!!”, we both screamed instantly. I guess the lunch place
came to a stand-still for a moment as everyone stared at us.
Okay
okay, THE Charlie Chaplin episode is her alter-ego. Being a
biggest fans of his work, she immediately agreed to don the hat,
literally, for our colleges annual day function. The principles (yes
we had two) Mr. Teja and Mr. Dhaga (affectionately called Bheja
(brain) and Dagah (betray) by our darling S) were not sure and
okayed her for a mere five minute part. It did not take them more
than a minute to extend her part after she greeted
them with “good morning, good afternoon, good evening” in
oh-so-perfectly Chaplin avtaar and
the mannerism. So in the end the five minute part became her
15 minutes of fooling-dancing-fighting and gripping the audiences
attention, on the stage, episode. Very memorable episode that we keep
rewinding in our memory.
“OMG
I will die, main mar jaongi”, she said laughing
hysterically, while clutching her mouth with hands and freshly
painted red nails. “do you still get into those shoes”? I asked
her after catching my own breath. “hhmmm not Chaplin but my younger
one always ask me to do a Michael Jackson (another favorite of hers)
moon-walk-step to please her. And yes I do it secretly”. And I bet
she does it with élan.
Moon-walk
reminds me of her infatuation with color white, sheepishly I asked
her to recall her obsession with the name Chandni! “ that
was some phase and I wanted to move from routine”, said S. Routine
surely can be boring and for S it was just an excuse to break away
from the mould. The otherwise full of life, S started wearing whites,
yellows, oranges and blues, all pastel colors related to moon and
became sober! Thats so not her guys. She even thought of
re-locating to Delhi as the name Chandni goes well there more than
Mumbai. Illogical. “My name is Chandni Mathur, I've completed B.A
and knows short-hand. I work with Hansa and Hansa travels and since
then life has come to a halt!”, was her by-hearted-drama-dialogue,
incase if anyone ask her what will she do in Delhi? For once we
thought that she is possessed. Her, then boyfriend, Rohit, tried to
put some sense into her. But to no avail. Without her and her parents
knowledge, one day Jaggu (a
neighbor who was lattoo on her), took her to a tantric baba
for a 'treatment'. S was so furious with him that she broke into a
tandav and scared the hell out of everyone! This bubbly girl
rarely got angry but when she did, then good lord, there ain't no
place on earth where one could escape from her wrath. And when she
got furious with rage, her jet black eyes would undergo a sudden
change of color and turn blue. (I loved when that happened and have
always wondered how in the name of God did she do that.)
“ Oh
those were glass-lenses from Beauty Shop that I picked up for fun,
and I thought you knew of it?” she looked surprisingly at me with
those big eyes again and before she change color, I nodded no. “
Well as I said earlier I do get bored doing the same routine stuff
and decided to do something extraordinary, so I always used to slip
them on when angry to show my other side to people”, she also
revealed to me today, that after what I thought was her magic side,
almost every-night S used to wear blue lenses and do a Nagin(a)
dance in her bedroom only to get some solid trashing from her mother
later. “Am just crazy about dancing. Incidentally everyone in my
house thought i'm a good dancer but aisa kuch nahin hai, it
comes naturally to me”, she declares finally. I can vouch for that.
The lady had once danced non-stop, pretending to be with someone
imaginary, wearing a blue chiffon sari in the rains, all by herself.
Another revelation about her. Breathtaking!
Its
been an hour since we met, talked and laughed and haven't ordered
anything. Finally we did. S ordered brocilli with some veggies (madam
is on strict diet, you see), while I settled for my Hyderabadi
Biryani.
Hyderabad
reminds me of one of her pulling-legs-act where she spoke in typical
Hyderabadi dialect (picked up from me of-course) with ease
during our college days. Anyone asked her for anything—a glass of
water, her notes or to shout out a proxy during attendance—pop came
her reply “itte haule kamaan mai nai karti, naaji miya.(I don't do
such stupid work)”. She was amused
at my memory. “how can I not do that, it was such a sweet dialect
to mouth, and I got away doing anything with those lines taught by
you. Magical line”, she concluded.
S
was a fast-learner and quickly picked up new things or ways. Once she
shocked us all with her behavior akin to that of a 6-year old's. She
dished out an old skirt and blouse from her wardrobe, tied her hair
in a ridiculous plait with a red ribbon and claimed to have had a
memory loss after a heavy Sadma.
She played with her little puppy all day. 'Hariprasad' was
what she called him, named after her Hindi professor whom she
detested. Such a mad-house S was!
After
few tit bits, yahan-wahan ki batein and inquiring about our
families, we both went back to relish our respective lunch plate.
Lunch
finished and it was time to take each other's leave although we both
didn't want to. We hugged and promised to meet regularly from now
on...no excuses and strictly no more sabbaticals. “I missed you so
much S, we all did”, I exclaimed, almost screaming it out loudly.
“Aww, I'll most certainly be in touch from now on,” she said in a
little-girl like voice, clenching my hand into hers tightly.
She
left the restaurant before me. I stepped out feeling happy and
content with a big smile pasted on my face. S did not let me down.
She was back into my life. I have always followed her very closely
even when she was away. I still knew from common sources of her
well-being. After all she was and will always be my best friend with
her Jhaaz-Vaaz et al. I have literally grown up with her when
I was a mere 16 years old. When I fell ill, my family would ask her
to come over and dance and put up one of her acts before me and I
would miraculously feel well. Everyone thought I would marry her some
day or someone like her, for the least. My undying love for her made
them believe that, I suppose. S was always up there for me. And well,
life had other plans in store for me.
My
thoughts were broken by a voice that said “sir, your cab is here.”
I reached out for the taxi door, when suddenly from an unclear source
I heard this song...
“Rekha
ko dekha tune, Hema ko dekha,
Nargis
ko dekha tune, Nutan ko dekha,
Zaraa
idhar palat ke dekh, Main lagti hoon, Sridevi lagti hoon...”
and
the big smile that was pasted on my face throughout, came back.
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