Managing Glory

Managing glory can be tough. Many find it difficult to accept praise and manage fame. Accepting even a simple happy birthday wish can pose a challenge for some. How do the big and the famous manage it? Here is my first-hand experience.

Aishwarya Rai

It was 1995. I was waiting at the Sahar airport to check in for a flight to Atlanta. We were a group, travelling to the US to receive Ingersoll-Rand's International Club of Excellence membership. We were excited and the decibel level was quite high. Suddenly a hush fell over the place. All men started looking in a particular direction. My wife commented, "See, all men are looking at Aishwarya Rai." Deciding to get closer, I went to the counter adjacent to the one where Ms Rai stood. I asked something, I don't remember what. I got the response, thanked the official and looked around before leaving. Aishwarya was looking at me. I have never seen such beautiful eyes. Pure magic!

Amol Palekar

Amol Palekar, a painter and a theatre artist, came into the limelight through Hindi films. His ‘boy-next-door’ looks and natural acting won him many accolades in movies such as Rajnigandha, Chhoti Si Baat, Golmaal and Naram Garam. He won the Filmfare Award in 1980 for playing the roles of Ram Prasad and Lakshman Prasad in Golmaal. That was just one year before I stood next to him in a check in queue at the Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose airport. He was in light blue jeans. People looked at him, but no one approached him for autograph. There were no smiles, either. He waited patiently for his turn at the counter. The ‘boy next door’ behaved in the most dignified manner befitting a traveller.    

Anil Kapoor

Anil Kapoor was neither big nor famous when I saw him first. It was late 1981. I lived in a guest house at Ballygunge in Kolkata. Though called a guest house, many inmates lived there for years together. I recognised almost all residents. That was why I was surprised to see many unknown faces suddenly one evening. MS Sathyu, the film director, had arrived with his crew and artists for the shooting of Kahan Kahan Se Guzar Gaye. I had tremendously liked his Garam Hawa, a film on the plight of the Muslim community in India. The next evening I saw his hero, Anil Kapoor. He was staying at the same guest house. He was my age, my height, my built, and quite ordinary to look at. He did not throw any tantrums.

AR Rehman

It was either in 1996 or 1997. I was getting out of the Sahar airport. Suddenly a colleague said, “See there, AR Rehman!” And there he was. Just about four steps ahead of me, carrying an odd-size bag, with dishevelled hair and certainly no airs about him, he went out ignoring the calls of the taxi drivers. The music of Roja had become super hit by then. Rehman had introduced a new trend in film music. He had perhaps already become the highest paid music director. But here he was, walking like an ordinary air traveller. Before I could have a second look, he was gone.  

Chandra Shekhar

It was a funny experience. I had waited at the Varanasi airport for quite some time the previous evening, to be finally lodged in some hotel by the airlines, to catch the next day flight. The situation did not appear promising even the next day. The passengers were coming to their wits’ end. Finally  the flight arrived and I rushed to the plane to grab the first available seat as none were assigned. I was the first passenger to enter the plane. I found that right on the first row behind the door, the middle seat lay unoccupied. A brown leather briefcase was kept on it. I asked, “May I?” The person on the window seat looked at me with amazement. He was VP Singh, the former prime minister of India! In a fleeting second I noticed that the man on the aisle was another former prime minister, Chandra Shekhar, badly in need of a shave. By then I was grabbed by the security, bodily lifted off the floor, and placed somewhere near the ninth row. It took me some time to come to senses. It was an experience I always recall with amusement. I wonder how these former PMs, who schemed against each-other to become prime minister, could travel together in an ordinary plane. But that is politics!

Daler Mehndi

I was sitting in the lounge of some top seaside hotel in Mumbai. I do not remember why, but I remember being utterly bored with the dull atmosphere. Suddenly Daler Mehndi appeared on the scene. He looked like a magician straight out of a comic book, complete with an elaborate turban, a longish coat, and funny footwear. His song Sadde Naal had already become famous, but he appeared to be in need of some reassurance. He glanced at me, walked till the door, returned, again glanced at me, and started chatting with the concierge. I received my entertainment from his antics.

Deepti Naval

I am always in mortal fear of missing my flight and being left stranded. It is normal for me to report at the airport even three hours before the scheduled departure. No wonder, I arrived at the Indira Gandhi International airport at 545 in the morning to check in for an Indian Airlines flight leaving for Mumbai at 800 or so. Not only was the check-in counter already open, a woman had beaten me to the second place by arriving some seconds earlier. The lady at the counter gave her a sweet smile, and why not, she was checking in Deepti Naval. Deepti Naval was a very respected actor in parallel Hindi cinema, and had also forayed into commercial films such as Angoor, Saath Saath, Kisi Se Na Kehna, Rang Birangi, Katha, etc. I did not find her in the departure lounge. Imagine my surprise when she took the seat next to mine in the aircraft. She was part of a group, but had found a seat separately. I stole a look at her. She was slightly built, dusky, had two prominent lines running from the end of the nostrils to the corner of the lips, and was apprehensive about something she had done the previous night. She asked her friends more than once, “Theek Tha Na (wasn’t it okay)?” I prepared myself for striking a conversation. I silently thanked her when she spurned her friend’s suggestion to change her seat, dismissing it with a Punjabi-sounding “Do Ghante Ki To Flight Hai, Kya Farak Padta Hai (how does it matter where you sit in a two-hour flight)?” However, her friend had her way, and soon she got up and sat somewhere else. I continued to bask in the two-minute reflected glory.        

 

Dilip Kumar

I consider Dilip Kumar as the greatest Hindi film actor, followed by Moti Lal, Balraj Sahni, Naseeruddin Shah, Amitabh Bachchan, etc. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him near the baggage claim belt at the Lohegaon airport. Though he is reported to be 5’10” in height, he appeared to be taller than 6’. His face radiated good health, energy, and happiness. He must have been 75 years old then, but stood ramrod straight. Saira Banu and another woman stood next to him.  

Dr APJ Abdul Kalam

It was in 2000. I was flying from Delhi to Bengaluru. My boss sat next to me. We occupied isle seats in the economy section, sitting behind a curtain. As the plane prepared to land, the curtain separating the cattle class from the elite was pinned to the sides, allowing us a direct view of the cockpit door. My boss exclaimed, “Kalam!” I stretched my neck out, and saw the unmistakable white curly mane. It was Dr Kalam, no doubt. But I could not get anything better than that glimpse of the back of the head. There were no announcements about his being on the flight.

Indira Gandhi

I was a high school student then. Mrs Indira Gandhi, the Prime Minister, had called for midterm elections. The Bangladesh war was yet to be fought.  Mrs Gandhi was campaigning all over India. I learnt that she would pass through our part of the city. I was curious. Though Mrs Gandhi was the prime minister, there was hardly any security. A flimsy bamboo barricade had been erected on both sides of the twenty foot wide road. One could have easily lobbed a bomb across the road, what to talk of the middle of it. If there was a security threat, the thought perhaps never struck the police. A pilot jeep arrived, and behind it was Mrs Gandhi in an open car moving at about 30 kmph. The crowd shouted, “Indira Gandhi Zindabad.” She beamed a smile, and threw some garlands. A mini fight broke out to claim the garlands, diverting my attention. By the time I looked back at the road, Mrs Gandhi was gone. It could have been straight out of a movie set.  

Manoj Sinha

As a sixteen year old leaving home for the first time and joining the notorious-for-ragging BHUIT, I did not face many awkward moments. I could sing well, and my sense of humour pulled me through. I was, however, careful to never cross roads with Manoj Mishra and Manoj Sinha. Mishra, I was told, was fond of making freshers hang from rods, their feet dangling a foot above electric heaters. Thankfully, I never met him. I met Manoj Sinha when I was in the third year. It must have been about eight in the evening. I was studying with the door locked in y room in the Sir CV Raman hostel. I heard a lot of footsteps in the lobby, stopping at my door, followed by vigorous knocking. I opened the door and found Manoj Sinha standing there with some ten students. He was campaigning for a position in the Students’ Union. He recognised me, hugged me and said in his heavy voice, “Tum To Apne Aadmi Ho” (you are one of my own people). The robustly built Sinha exuded a rustic touch. He was from east UP. I never saw him in anything other than a kurta-pyjama. He was studying civil engineering. He never ragged me, and I never heard any story about his ragging or harassing any student. He continued in BHU when I passed out. Two years back I saw his picture as a junior minister of railways. He looked almost the same. I believe he is doing well and has a clean image.

Nana Patekar

When you see a good human being, you know it. This, too, happened at the Lohegaon airport baggage claim belt. I stood on one side with my wife and children, and Nana Patekar stood on the other side. My ten-year old son looked at him and sang, “Kabhi Shambhar One”, a song picturised on Patekar. Patekar looked at him, smiled and waved. He looked exactly as he looks on the screen.

Nandan Nilekani

It was late in the evening. The HAL airport was notorious for poor commuting facilities. Whether it were the taxis or the auto-rickshaws, the passengers got fleeced. The prepaid counter was a little away, and unless one rushed to it, a half-an-hour wait and ultimately landing up with a reluctant driver was not abnormal. I was not able to walk out as quickly as I wanted. The crowd came to a standstill. I looked around. Nanadan Nilekani, an Infosys honcho those days, was approaching with a briefcase in hand. He was talking to a colleague, not bothered about the crowd. He moved on, as did I.

Nisha Singh

Nisha Singh is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. And, mind you, I have seen Aishwarya Rai in person. Nisha Singh was the heroine of Kahan Kahan Se Guzar Gaye, an MS Sathyu film. She briefly stayed at the guest house where I lived in Kolkata. She had a lovely face, was very fair, and of average height. I do not know whether Kahan Kahan Se Guzar Gaye ever got released, but you can see Nisha Singh in the song 'Itni Shakti Hame Dena Daata'. She did not look that pretty on the screen. Sad.

Pandit Jasraj

It was a crowded HAL airport. People were jostling for space. Many were glued to their cell phones. Amidst the chaos he stood, a part of the crowd but yet so distinctly different! He looked like a hermit, content with himself, his face radiating a heavenly glow. The man acclaimed for his golden voice the world over was maintaining silence. I saw Pandit Jasraj perhaps only for a few seconds, but his image remains etched in my memory.  

PT Usha

It is said that one appears twenty pounds heavier on the screen. It was the reverse in the case of PT Usha, the famous Olympian, who stood behind me in the queue to take the steps leading to the aircraft. She looked frail on the screen, but in reality was strongly built. Her wrist was wider than mine. She was tall. And, she was in absolutely in no hurry or in need of  being moved to the head of the queue. She pleasantly smiled to the airline staff, winning many hearts.

Rajnath Singh

My father once sat just opposite Mahatma Gandhi in the Prarthana Sabha, and vowed never to sit there again. Gandhiji’s eyes pierced, he claimed. Rajnath Singh’s eyes did not exactly pierce, but  then I was about twenty feet away. He was a powerful politician, though I do not remember exactly whether he had already been the chief minister of UP by then. He was in a jeep on the Chowdhary Charan Singh airport tarmac, looking for something. His eyes met mine for a fraction of a second, and I was left stunned. They were so powerful!

Raj Singh Dungarpur

I was travelling from Delhi to Mumbai in an Indian Airlines flight. The passengers around me were very talkative, discussing cricket. They kept on moving constantly. I recognised one of them as Jaywant Lele. They started a small meeting right in the middle of the aisle, disturbing all. The noise stopped as a dignified person came from the front of the aircraft. He was tall, dignity personified, and completely in control not only of himself but also of those around him. He was Raj Singh Dungarpur, the president of the Board of Control for Cricket in India. He talked to Lele for some moments, and left. The meeting was broken, the participants taking their respective seats!

Rudra Pratap Singh ‘Rudy’

Rudy was my neighbour in Patna. We lived on the Boring Road.  I lived in Dumri Kothi, and Rudy’s house lay just two vacant plots apart. Rudy and his elder brother, Sudhir, visited Dumri Kothi often to play with Rajesh, the son of the hose owner. The three of them studied in Saint Michaels School. Sudhir was the most dominating of the three, and Rudy, then perhaps in class five, was content to play in the shadows of his elder brother. Rudy was skinny, didn’t speak much, and unlike his brother, did not indulge in heroics. Those were the days of Rajesh Khanna and Kishore Kumar, and one could hear always Sudhir crooning some popular number of the duo.  Rudy just watched. I did not hear anything about him after I left Dumri Kothi in 1973. That is, till about two years back, when he became a minister in the Modi government.  

Saif Ali Khan

Saif was a part of the group mentioned in the section about Deepti Naval. I did not recognise him at first sight. He was very fair, had a pony tail, and spoke with a British accent. He was yet to make a mark on the Hindi film scene.

Saira Banu

See Dilip Kumar

Sonia Gandhi

I have a general grasp of the English language and my hearing is normal. Still, I usually catch only about eighty percent of what the pilots announce. Perhaps the pilots also know it, preferring to mumble only about four sentences in the entire course of a flight. But, that day was different. I was coming in an evening Jet Airways flight from Delhi to Bengaluru. Not only were the announcements clear, the pilot was making a point to enlighten us on what lay on our left and right every twenty minutes, and how our journey was progressing. I was puzzled. It was only after I came out of the aircraft that I learnt that Sonia Gandhi, the Congress President, was one of the passengers. Congress was dethroned just about a year back after a continuous ten year run at the centre. Did I see Mrs Gandhi? No chance!

Surendra Sharma

The popular Hindi poet Surendra Sharma has written many poems of little literary value, perhaps for mass consumption to draw applaud at Kavi Sammelans. However, he has also written some very powerful satires on India's political system, human weaknesses and outdated beliefs and customs. One of his satires touches the overpowering role money plays in elections. The electorate is least bothered about the party and the candidate, and fails to notice the swapping of the election symbol, the owl, with the candidate's picture on the posters. Sharma adds a touch of humour, observing a stark similarity between the face of the candidate and the owl. My wife and I saw Mr Sharma sitting with his characteristic dour expression at a Delhi book fair, the poem immediately came to the back of our mind, and my wife burst out laughing. With his large eyes he did bear similarity to an owl. I saw Sharma again several years later at the Ahmedabad airport. He sat with a young girl. He looked sad. A passenger spotted him and took a selfie with Sharma in the frame, without seeking his permission. Sharma became conscious but did not object. Perhaps he had got material for writing another poem.

Ustad Amjad Ali Khan, Amaan, Ayan

It was about 630 in the morning. The boarding had been announced. I came out of the airport to sit in the coach. The coach was fairly crowded. Three elegant-looking men stood next to it. An airline official was giving them company. I boarded the bus and reached the aircraft. Moments later Ustad Amjad Ali Khan with his sons Amaan and Ayan arrived in a car. They thanked the airline official and boarded the plane last.

VP Singh

See Chandra Shekhar

Zakir Husain

We have come a full round, from A to Z. Coincidentally, the Z is also related to my Atlanta trip, as the A was. We were in the economy class, but somehow spotted the tabla maestro, Zakir Husain, on the same flight. He was in some other class.