Truth

Truth
Pre lockout days. I was late from my clinic and was driving without paying much attention to the roads because they were mostly deserted. On the corner where I take a turn to my home, I saw a figure, standing in the dim street light of the lamp post. Was unable to exactly put it in any form, nor any gender. Mostly looking like a restless soul, waiting to be helped, cajoled, looked after, God knows what, but it was very shaky.

I screeched the brake and tried to put the car as near as possible so as to have a clear picture of the figure. Still, I could not. I do not believe in God so naturally its counterpart Evil, too I do not believe. So without having any trace of fear and in most helpful attitude, I asked the figure,

“Who are you?” It did not respond. I tried to continue the conversation;” Do you need any help, may I?”

It appeared that it turned towards me in askance. Still, the face was not visible due to poor lighting. I heard, like a small sigh escaping from the figure. After a pause, it asked in a very sincere clear baritone voice,

“Really?”

I nodded my head in affirmative.

“See, if I tell you my name, you will definitely hesitate to help me. Most of them are either shy of me or afraid. Nobody really loves me. Given a chance all, all of them run away from me.!”

I was perplexed. Still, I was at large. But I did get some idea. It though wore bright white attire, its nakedness was apparent through it. It was darkened by the gloom around. Though it did not seem to be third gender but whether it was a man or a woman I could not ascertain with clarity.

‘Whatever? I am a man of principle and did not do any wrong consciously, so I am not afraid and I am ready to help you”

It laughed a small childish smile or was it a smirk?

“Okay then, I am turning around you may find it difficult to look me in the eyes.”

“I am ready”

Slowly the figure turned around. It had a glowing halo around its head. Eyes, were they, whatever, were very bright as if about to pour out the fire within, and really it was very difficult to look into its eyes. In its crystal clear sonorous lilting voice, it said,

“I am truth! The truth!”

Though I was not taken aback I hesitated a bit. In an incredulous voice, I heard myself saying

“ Really? Then why are you hiding here in the dark,…away from the prying eyes?” I threw a salvo.

As if it has read my mind, in a patronizing voice it set aside my doubt and said,

“See dear, you have a clean slate so you are finding my attire white and glowing, my voice lilting but most out there they dread me. As far as possible they try to subvert me, keep me chained in deep abyss not allowing to surface because they know that if I surface they had it.”

“But how can they chain you and why, you don’t seem to be having any shape, any form you are so fluid, maybe slimy too, that’s why may be difficult to hold, and for that matter you don’t have any other recognizable attribute!”

Again a tingling laugh and in a slow stream of soothing voice continued.

“Precisely. I am neither a male nor a female for that matter anything sexual. I don’t have age so I am neither a child nor an elderly but I am totally innocent, can say naïve also, exactly like a child because I don’t have any prejudices. I am what I am. Give or take! I don’t have any particular shape because everybody perceives me differently. Why for that matter when the fourth dimension, that’s time, changes I change too. So there you go. Though I cannot be seen, cannot be heard I am there, I am all-pervasive.”  

I was little apprehensive now. I could not take its plight further. Pitying it I said,

“Must be difficult to be alone and all on your own in this hostile world!”

“Very. You have put it in exact words. This hostile world. It tries to hide me, suffocate me, kill me, at every juncture, on every walk of life, but being what I am, I just cannot give up otherwise whatever the ramshackle, that’s this world is running in whatever way today, will halt the next second. It will just die. There are people like you, who are the only hope for this world to run smoothly, rather sanely!  And if you talk about a relative I do have, my stepbrother. The Untruth!”

I immediately got its point without it spelling out the details. I knew what it was coming to. Untruth told a thousand times becomes the truth.

Again reading my mind the truth, poor but saintly truth said,

“Yes, and they have invented the system to do so. In today’s times, they have made my life so miserable that the pace of life does not allow anyone to take even the cognizance of me. He or she takes whatever is bombarded at him/her without bothering for the details because the very idea of the exercise is to confuse. And today’s gullible guy, for want of time bites the bait. Those who don’t are found by the railway tracks, in the deep seas or they, vanish in thin air!” 

Though not unaware of such things, the nakedness of the truth made me aghast.

“Whatever, you need not bother, you have my place to stay, come with me” I offered.

In a very silky tone full with warmth and kindness the truth replied, “Kid, don’t you realize I am already residing there?”             

                                                                       Thanks, Mr Mukund Mahajan for the germ!

Murder by Nepotism

Like all others, I too got stunned and saddened by the sudden end of the life of Sushant Singh Rajput. No, we were not related, not friends not even acquaintances. A fan? Maybe to a certain extent. He used to be there on the screen and I, as an avid movie-goer in the seat in a cosy cinema auditorium. What I admired about him and other boys like him, say, Ayushman Khurana, Rajkumar Rao, Nawazuddin Siddiqui that they reached the top absolutely on their own, without any godfather in the highly nepotistic Hindi film industry. Bollywood?

No doubt Sushant was an A grader starting on a humble note as an actor on the small screen where they churn out daily soap operas with clockwork precision. Without any heart in it, what so ever. Quitting Engineering course that he secured with all India rank, requires a lot of guts if you come from a middle class background. And that too to pursue a dream, in a fickle business like show business.

To climb up the ladder of success opposite the golden spoon boys of the well-known is a tough task. They have to keep on proving themselves again and again and again as, if there is one flop and you are out, which is/was never the case with the chosen ones. And that’s the nidus for insecurity and maybe depression.

Abhishek Bachchan kept on signing movies, even after giving flops after flops. In his entire carrier, Saif Ali Khan, the father of ‘Taimur’ gave only one worthwhile performance in ‘Omkara’ , otherwise, it’s all blank but he walked away with Padmashree. The face of Sunny Deol would have beaten flat, that of a Parkinsonism patient in an advanced stage, it used to be that wooden, deadpan! But he survived for years with solo hits in some obscure cinema hall in Bhatinda! Ranbeer Kapur walks away with an award for his hackneyed performance in a third rate biopic on the third rate, proven criminal, a goon with connections [From the industry again], and against whom? Ayushman Khurana in ‘Andhadhun’? Eh! Sanjay Dutt is giving flops after flops after his release from the jail but there is no dearth of producers waiting in a queue to sign him on the dotted line. In his case, there is not a single positive point for him to be there, even remotely, except, he is the son of Nargis and mostly of Sunil Dutt.

Except for Alia Bhatt, even for the actresses the scene is not far from different. Tapasi Pannu, Bhumi Pednekar are far better than Ananya Pandey, who? but … Same was the case with Mala Sinha, Zarina Wahab and Urmila Matondkar, they never got their dues!

And vice a versa? Many like Avinash Wadhwan, Chandrachur Singh , oh, so many like them, with talent, even good faces, were discarded like hot potatoes with few flops.

Maybe the same insecurity was burning Sushant from inside. To keep on giving hits after hits, just to be afloat. And in the Bollywood, [anywhere else for that matter], ‘Nothing succeeds like success’. Though not in the league of Ayushman Khurana or Rajkumar Rao but with a chocolate face and boyish charm and dollops of talent, he was in the class of Shah Rukh Khan, [Before he made Rajesh Khanna of himself], given the right script he would have shown definitely.  

I am not into obituaries but with a very heavy heart I offer my condolences to his departed soul, which could be a murder by nepotism.

Attire and the Attitude

Attire and Attitude!

Barring few alphabets here and there, they practically are the same. Sides of the same coin. Rather should we say that they are part of the same equation? If one is there the other automatically has to be. Do you remember that cute advertisement for Vodafone? A cute bulldog puppy follows his child master wherever he goes. The catching phrase was,” Our network follows you wherever you go!” Attitude and attire is that inseparable duo!

So if you have attitude, attire comes automatically with it, depending on what the attitude is! Vice a versa when you dress up, even dress down, it’s your way, to tell the world your attitude, in bold capital letters!

Let’s not talk about the circle where attire is THE attitude, where your shade of lipstick, or purse on your hands for females, and Rolex on your wrist and Hush puppies on your feet for males are worn always to make a statement. Though I was not surprised, as I was never too much bothered about such ‘Statement’s, but it definitely came as an eye-opener. In his latest blog, a high society circle snob, [Strictly not to offend but definitely in my personal opinion] famous column writer and journo, Veer Sanghavi, commented that " In Fine dining restaurants, you are seated according to your attire. And the staff is trained to recognize the telltale signs, to do so. As of now, as everybody is casually dressed they are asked to go further and look for other finer details. Starting from the perfume you are wearing to diamonds (of course) to other accessories like Android or I Phone, your signature shoes, even belts will take you to the sanctum sanctorum, inner special room, otherwise, you are made to sit with other plebeians!

At the same time, Vice a versa might not be true. Casually, or simplistically dressed person might not be that simple. Remember the one who was most casually dressed but changed the destiny of India with his complex political manoeuvring!

Coming from a big overgrown village that pretended to be a city, even in those days Pune, to Mumbai, the vast cauldron of a potpourri of different cultures was huge for me. Practically a cultural shock. Why the world, on the entire fashion map of India, even Maharashtra, Pune never counted, does not count even now. To true inner circle Puneri, fashion really never existed. If you change your shirt from stripes to checks, it was a BOLD step and your fashion ended there but if colour went somewhere near the faint shade of PINK it was fashion explosion. I remember as teenagers we had to be after our parents to allow us to get trousers stitched in Bell Bottom style, a rage in those days, but our counterparts in Mumbai even in those were way ahead of us. I remember I was thoroughly enthralled to see a girl in ‘Lungi’ in Pune, many months after it made its show in Mumbai as if my long-cherished wish has been fulfilled.’

And now I was in Mumbai, in my own self, trying my hand at the latest. And yes I was successful on many such fronts.

My trousers used to be so well stitched that they were borrowed by colleagues to wear on special occasions. At around the same time, I had joined regular gym. I was a pet of the owner Mr Pathre because he could transform me from ‘Single Fasli’ 45 kgs, to well-cut 65 kgs, a better-looking version of myself. He used to be after me, ‘It’s time to wear good T-shirts Doctor, if you have it, show it, [Of course I was not going to flaunt the nonexistent 6 packs!]. Maybe not many are aware, but in the same period, I tried my hand at modelling too. With only 3 photographs I had approached many advertisement bureaus. Results were though not encouraging but surprising. Many had called me back with a portfolio! I did not even know the meaning of the portfolio then. Famous Male model of 4 squares in those days, Sunil Bhutani was co hostelier. What he told, was definitely beyond me, for absolute lack of funds. Well, known photographers, like Gautam Rajyadhyaksha used to charge in 10s of thousands for single portfolio, in those days but if the Midas touches you, there was no looking back was the dictum! I could not go anywhere near him! Nonetheless, the local photographer who photo shot me, displayed them in the front showcase, for months thereafter!

But I do have that die-hard attitude. To many, this came as arrogance. But it helped me a lot. I was ridiculed in my childhood for my thin, almost feminine voice. Once while chatting away at the street corner with a friend, a total stranger came to me and said, “Kid, you have a nice lilting voice, why don’t you go for voice training?” Financial conditions at home? Ughs. So right from the early days, I was denied many chances. But once I was in Mumbai? 
In this regard too I made my point by getting selected for Akashwani Mumbai by none other than Mr Purushottam Darvhekar a stalwart of Marathi theatre and by none other than infant terrible of Marathi arts scene Mr Vinay Apte for Mumbai Doordarshan. And that gave me the attitude which won me a prize in impromptu singing competition

Similarly I did drastic changes in my attire with attitude. No more staid clerkish sober outfits for me. I must stand out in the crowd of equals and not 10 levels below me. And believe me, I got noticed. I was a best-dressed consultant wherever I practised. And my patients accepted it too. Many complimented me openly for my dress sense. So much so that one of my sons-in-law, who incidentally knows fashion as he is editor of a famous newspaper, commented “Shashikaka ‘You just swag!” By then I did not know even the meaning of ‘What’s Swag?’ It turned out, ‘A person who has keen fashion sense and confidence in his style! And makes a statement with every outfit.’

But this was not Pune. The swagger in Mumbai was outrageously dressed in Pune. Again the sides of the same coin. Attitude, who cares!