saying the steps to the first floor, I happened to look up mid way, and there he stood, in a white Pathan suit, white shawl draped under-an-arm-and-over- the-shoulder in quintessential AB style, hands politely folded in a namaskar, the way one has seen zillions of times on TV. Only this was different, and how!! For this was not the Amitabh Bachchan, who has been a part of our growing up years, whose films have mirrored the aspirations and frustrations, the dreams and the angst of millions of our generation (and counting!). This was the icon, whose films one watched avidly and unfailingly, no matter what the season, and meeting whom in person was a cherished dream, always. So this moment now seemed to gain an identity all its own-it was a moment frozen in Time, carved indelibly on the psyche….
Looking back, through all the turns and twists of life, from college to domesticity and kids, to relocation to a new city and finding my place in the sun, the one k constant in this life of flux was the undying admiration for this larger-than-life persona that has inspired millions. We were but a sand particle on the vast sea-shore of humanity, longing for an opportunity to meet the legend in person, always hoping, religiously watching and participating in every KBC season but always left out in the cold. But very optimistically promising to oneself hum honge kamyab ek din.
I think I must pen this down before the euphoria dies, and memories blur. More than 15 hours after the incredible, unbelievable happened, it still seems unreal. That we actually met and chatted with-I don’t have words to describe him-the Super Shehanshah of all times, the Living Legend, the one and only Amitabh Bachchan, still seems like a dream. Even while we were there-our normal garrulousness reduced to momentary silence by the sheer enormity of the situation-that we were actually sharing space and laughter, incessant chatter (completely from our side)-the fact that we were breathing the same air as the global phenomenon, Amitabh Bachchan, seemed impossible to believe.
In real life, Amitabh Bachchan looks taller, thinner and fairer (!) than he does on screen. He is extremely soft-spoken and speaks in measured tones, in that world famous, rich baritone.
My opening line, I recall through a haze, was something inane
“This is the realization of a lifetime’s dream; we can’t believe we are actually sitting in front of you!”. At which he had the grace to look surprised, as if this was such an unexpected thing for him to hear!
“Are you from Bombay?” was his polite enquiry. And all reticence disappeared, as our side of the story came tumbling out.
“No, we’re from Delhi. Mr. Bachchan, you would have had fans of all shapes, sizes and ages but never would sedate, middle-aged, working women have come all the way from Delhi simply with the intent of meeting you. “
“Oh, you’ve come from Delhi?” definite smile and sense of surprise and our response in chorus: “Yes and we’re flying back tonight; leaving for the airport straight after this.”
He asked us about our work, and then I kind of went into a long description of how, decades earlier, I had had the good fortune of taking his autograph in Pehalgam and even showed the dog-eared autograph book. His simple response was an Oh God!-- as though it was such an unusual thing to have happened. I also said how, ever since I could remember, this had been a long-cherished dream and how I had eagerly participated in the KBC questions, in the hope of making a breakthrough. But the fourth season was different, wasn’t it I queried, particularly the entry criteria? To which Mr. Bachchan replied that it was the same as before with no changes.
Once my prattle about KBC aspirations and failed attempts ended, I said that what we really wanted was to hear him speak. And he told us how he had just come back, the evening before, from his Gujarat Tourism Ad campaign (our luck had really been in!). He went on to describe the unexplored potential of that state and said it was such a pity that we weren’t aware of the beauty of our own country. I happily contributed to the conversation by adding the all-important fact that my daughter was studying in Ahmedabad and he nodded his head sagely.
So many thoughts were flitting through my mind, so much to say, what great fans of his we were, how desperately we had prayed each day during the Coolie accident, how we would be glued to the AIR news at 8.45 PM every evening, hearts full of trepidation, how brothers and cousins ragged us brood of girl cousins endlessly for our Bachchan craze……but all this remained unsaid. What I did remember talking about was our rapt listening to his recitation of Dr Harivansh Rai Bachchan’s poem from the LP record Bachchan recites Bachchan that still holds pride of place in my drawing room. We spoke, especially, of Jeevan ki aapadhapi mein, which we have heard him recite on TV countless times. I went on to add how our mother, being a student of Hindi literature, had inculcated the love for poetry of this language in us. And as if without volition, I quoted her favourite line on the haala, the mud container of drinks that pretty much sums up human life as well:
“Mitti ka tan, masti ka munn, kshan bhar jeevan… mera parichay."
A photographer was right there and all the time, photos were being clicked and we sat next to the legend, scarce able to believe our luck. Then he suggested that we didn’t’ need to get all the pictures clicked seated at the table, some could be taken standing and very happily, we posed with him. Again he said we could get pics taken one by one and we needed no second telling. We were hardly able to breathe-believe me, this is the effect Amitabh Bachchan still has on his inveterate fans!!
Now we decided it was time to leave and I fished for the little notebook I had bought for an autograph. Even as I was looking for it, I noticed AB had got little books with CDs-the Hanuman Chalisa rendered musically by him recently-and was signing them for us!!
We expressed our gratitude, said for the nth time how overwhelmed we were and almost swooned when he said (believe it or not!) “Do drop in when you’re here next!!”
What an evening, what euphoria and exultation and what memories to treasure for a lifetime. A tale to be shared with posterity.
