‘I mean, are not you going to study something?’
‘No, Cinema is my life. I was born for it’ I declared.
‘And what do your parents say about it?’
‘They know nothing, too old fashioned to let their child pursue his dreams.’
‘Of course, they want your future to be secure.’ she absolved.
What? Was she on their side too? I tried to keep my ego away from hurt. I asked her, ‘What about you? Are your parents okay with you giving auditions?’
Her focus was back on the coffee.
I pressed, ‘Shouldn’t I have asked that?’
‘I haven’t told them. Though I am sure, I will go for higher studies even if I do not get a break from the industry. I was just trying here. Not as serious as you are.’ She gave a naughty grin.
‘At least you believe that I am serious.’
‘Of course, I got that almost 10 years ago, when you hid behind your mother’s saree.’
‘Hey, cut it out. Stop teasing me.’ I protested.
She smiled. She revealed her ivory white teeth and I could almost see myself on its polished enamel. I wondered which toothpaste she used, but unfortunately, I could not keep it confined to myself, ‘Hey, do you happen to use Colgate?’
‘What?’
‘What? Did I ask something?’ I realized the stupidity of my question and reacted bluntly as if I was not aware of what I had just asked.
‘I should probably be leaving now. Amma’s waiting for me at home.’ She stood up and prepared to leave. I left a ten-rupee note inside the bill palette kept on our table by the waiter. Soon we were standing outside; the streets of Madras were busy as usual despite of the fact that a domestic cricket game was taking place at the Chepauk Stadium. Maybe their team had been losing out the game again. It is the inherent trait of our fellow countrymen, support when they are winning, and criticize foully the moment they start showing signs of defeat. Well, I do not follow cricket at all, my only love is Cinema and now the girl who stood in front of me. I would have watched cricket had there been any involvement of cinema in it. Maybe in the future, there would be a decent marriage of Cricket and Cinema. I could only wish for such a thing.
She was doing that thing with her toe again, I could not understand. Five minutes ago this girl was casually sitting with me, had coffee and shared words cheerfully, but now she was playing an introvert’s tune. What was this? Was she doing some kind of rehearsal for the next audition? But I loved it, both her sides; shy and outgoing at the same time.
‘I thought you were comfortable with me.’ I asked her, intrigued by her shut-in behavior.
‘Of course I am’ she replied swiftly.
‘Then why do you keep doing this thing with your toe. Doesn’t that mean you are feeling shy or something?’
‘Oh! I just get reminded of that stupid thing I did back in ‘86.’ she smiled mildly trying to hide her abashment.
I laughed at her innocent reply., ‘Maybe it’s time that you moved on. You know, I believe that someday things will change. Just like the seasons. A crusty and lively spring follows the harsh winter. Seasons change Padma, Seasons change.’
‘Yes, whatever! I will see you around, bye!’ she gave her right hand for me to shake.
‘What? Do I have to kiss that beautiful hand of yours?’ I winked.
‘ahahaha,’ she sung in her Tamilian tone, the same tone she had used a year ago when she had caught me eating mutton chops inside the cooking area of some wedding hall. She grilled me, ‘Very smart, but remember you are still vulnerable.’
‘Vulnerable? Who? Me? What do you mean?’
‘Never mind, I got to go, Goodbye!’ She turned around and started walking.
‘Goodbye!’ I bid farewell too. But I wondered why did she find me vulnerable and to what. I looked at the sky and gave a moment’s thought. I heard her speak again. She had turned around.
She said ‘Pepsodent, I use Pepsodent.’ She smiled.
Soon she disappeared from the scene, but her scent and aura never left me.
That is it. Finally confirmed, I was in love.
I wished for rainfall, so that I could dance in that rain, let my feelings out in the open and share my happiness with everyone. Sing out loudly and dance jeeringly, just as they did in the movies.
And lo, soon the bright shining sun was mugged up by thick cloud cover and in a few minutes, it started raining heavily, much to my surprise. Alas, I could not dance or sing as I had imagined. And later that day I saw the news, the cricket match had been called off without a ball being bowled that day because of the sudden rain. Continuous rain had left the pitch all muddy and the city jostled up and cheerful.
And that was the beginning of a beautiful relationship which I wished would never end. I cherished every moment that I spent with her. She was the love of my life. However, she was not my first priority then. I desperately wanted to get into the industry and I was still trying.
Twenty Five
1997
Madras
I waited for quite a long time to receive a call from the production house. Some people told me that they had already started shooting for that movie for which I had given audition. I refused to believe them. I had given a dozen more auditions after that, though all of them said good things about my acting skills and asked me to wait until they would call me up for a second round of audition for the short listed candidates. Then nobody had called me yet. I was always short-listed; but I would never receive any second call. Maybe Gowda was not trying too hard.
I was running out of money, soon I would start starving. I desperately wanted a breakthrough, but it just was not going my way. Gowda had found another young kid from Hosur, he was busy with the young boy. Apparently, he had realized that I was not attractive enough for the moviemakers or I was simply doomed. Maybe I was cursed; I must be bearing the curses of my Appa. I could not go back, but I did remember my mother’s words. She had said years ago, ‘Never rebel against your Appa, if he curses you, you will never be freed of that. No matter how many dips you take in the Ganga.’
Maybe she was right. I was cursed. I wished to reverse certain things, but things that were already done, words said could not be undone, just like letters typed on a paper in permanent ink. If you type anything wrong, you have to tear off the page and start afresh. But how can I start my life afresh?
Months passed, I met Padma often at the Indian Coffee House, but every time we would meet, she would find me more frustrated than before. I was so much broke, that she had started paying. No more were there smiling faces or toes that engraved the floor beneath.
It was a humid day in August; the two of us were sitting on our usual table at our savored coffee shop. After all these meetings, I had suddenly started finding Padma quite irritating, her way of talking about her dreams and then listening to my wishes and then trying to console me whenever I would break into a mode of frustration. All that mature talk made me itch in the thigh. At times, I would just wish to get up and leave, but then would change my mind, control my anger and stay with her. I would just sit there, without paying attention to what she would say, simply nod. Once again, she was trying to console me, ‘Krishna, I can very well understand your frustration, but you have to stick to your dreams. Try harder.’
I nodded as if I had heard each word that she uttered and completely agreed with them.
‘Krishna, why are you nodding, I know you are not listening to me at all.’ She shouted.
‘What do you want me to do, huh?’ I shot back.
‘Stop pretending, I just want you to stop pretending.’
‘Pretending? You know, all these days, you have been lecturing me. Do not do this; do not think like that, try harder. Hell yea, I know all these things.’
‘Krishna,’ her tone had softened, I looked up at her, and her eyes had dilated too. She continued, ‘all these years, I had been waiting to meet you and when I did, I thought I had my dream come true.’
; ‘What?’
‘You think I am this liberal with all the boys I meet? No dear, I do not even talk to other boys. No Sir, you are the only idiot whom I talk with. I have wandered around this city with you. You think I do that with every other guy I meet during auditions?’ She bolted up right on my face.
‘I’m sorry, I did not realize it. I am a mess.’ I confessed. I had tears in my red eyes.
‘That you are. A big mess, but you still have time, loads and loads of time. You can always go back, start afresh. For once in your life be smart, think wisely. I am not asking you to dispose your dream of becoming an actor, I am just asking you to place that on the backseat for the time being, and’ she puffed, ‘study something. Complete your graduation in anything, get a decent job. Secure your future. Once you are working somewhere, you will have some money and then you can go for auditions. I am sure you will be as good-looking and much stronger then. In fact, this depression on your face will disappear and you will be able to perform better.’
‘I am not going back there.’
She sighed, looked around and then shot back into my eyes, ‘try something here, work somewhere, save some money and then pursue…’ she sighed again, ‘We can always work it out, together’
‘What? Whoa…whoa…what do you think of me?’ I bounced off the chair. What she said had clearly hurt my ego. I yelled at her, ‘You think I am helpless? Huh? Do you think that I cannot make it in this city? You think I am so desperate that I am depending on a 17-year-old girl? If it is YES that you are expecting to hear from me, then I am sorry to disappoint you, Miss. Padmavathi Balachandran, but I am not depending on you. I will find my way out. I do not need you, your advice or that grumpy old man back at home who has been dictating my life ever since I started speaking.’
I dispelled my chair, winched my right hand into the rear pocket of my trouser and brought the red leather wallet out. I pulled out two 10 rupee notes and threw them on the table and yelled, ‘This one’s on me and this is it,’ I told Padma, ‘we won’t be meeting again unless I become somebody!’ and I rushed out of the old building. I did not even bother about looking back at that girl whom once I had adored so much, whom I had been longing to meet for 2 years. The girl whose face I would search for in every wedding that I’d go, the girl whose name was always a mystery and yet with that mystery I would weave dreams and net fantasies set in the land of fairytales.
Yet here I had ended it all, asked her to stay out of my life. I had walked out on her; rather I had walked out on myself. Little did I realize then that I was being engulfed by the demon created out of my own ego. I had grown too arrogant and what I had done to Padma showed the extent to which my arrogance could go.
As I charged off to my resting area, the Madras railway station, I saw a brand new movie poster fluttering around the edges of a press building. The poster had all the big names on it, Superstar Vijay, Raghuvaran. The same production house… Was it the same movie? Yes, it was. My heart skipped a length’s beat, where was my name? He had said that I gave a wonderful performance.
Wonderful performance! There was so much authenticity in your performance!
There was another handsome young boy but that wasn’t me, I had heard it from some of the other aspirants that he was the son of some Kollywood big shot. That was the moment I realized that my dreams were about to get shattered, one of the first tremors had been the poster. My eyes quickly filled up, my teeth crackled over each other and with a trembling hand; I picked up a huge stone that was lying on the corner of the footpath where I had been standing. I aimed at the face of the newcomer on the poster and shot the stone with all the power propelled by my frustration. The stone did not hit the poster at all. Instead, it got deflected in mid-air and hit the glass window of a nearby building. The glass shattered just like my dreams. Before some person from inside could spot the culprit, I decided to leave the spot. I was not getting anything right. I could not even throw a stone properly without breaking a window.
I am cursed.
Twenty Six
That night I went back to the railway station after drinking some local rum. I was totally out of my mind. Somehow, I managed to daggle to the last bench that lay on platform number 1. I was so drunk that I was not able to feel my body and surrendered unto unconsciousness.
I dropped myself on the bench, hit my lips hard on the surface of the bench and that’s all I could remember.
Twenty Seven
The next day
Madras
The next day, I woke up to find myself inside a police lock-up. Apparently, I had broken some laws but I did not remember which ones. I opened my eyes to dizziness. It was definitely a hangover. I had never tasted alcohol in my life before, so it was the first time. They say that the first time is always memorable. I wished I could not remember mine and in fact, I could not. One of the constables walked toward the cell where they had locked me up, he locked his eyes on me and asked, ‘Had a goodnight’s sleep?’
I could not move, I thought somebody had cut off my limbs. There was shear pain in the region around my abdomen. I looked at my abdominal region and that is when I realized that they had stripped me off my clothes. I was sitting there naked, not a pinstripe of loincloth over my feeble genital. I was shocked, I somehow managed to move my hands and cover my genital with them. My eyes filled with tears again, and I shouted, ‘What the hell have you done to me? Ahhhh…’ My lips hurt as I spoke; I felt saltiness in my saliva. I touched my lower lip with the index finger of my left hand while the right hand tightly censored out my pubic region. I saw blood on my finger, my lip had broken, that is when I remembered the moment I had fallen unconscious. I had hit my lip on the bench.
The constable unlocked the door and opened my cell. He was carrying a pair of torn trousers and dusty shirt. He threw them inside the cell. He said, ‘Dress up without uttering a word.’ He commanded. The man was almost the age of my father, around 52. He had thick moustache and his thick dark skin piled up on a very thinly constituted body. I quickly picked up my clothes and wore them. It smelled like vomit. I wanted to throw up, but I was scared to do so. I covered my nose. It took me more than ten minutes to wear my clothes; I could not move my right elbow or my hip without supporting myself against the wall. Maybe they had beaten me up last night while I was unconscious, just like that, for fun. The constable called me.
I stood up, shakily, started moving. Luckily the door was open; I did not have to apply any effort there. I felt so powerless. As I walked, I felt my entire back hurt.
He pointed his lathi stick to a spot near his table, ‘stand there!’
The constable raised my chin with his lathi stick. Slowly he moved my face to the right and then to the left. Both time, he examined each of my cheeks carefully. He spoke in his virile tone, ‘So, what is your business here?’
I did not reply.
My silence had irritated him, but I was wise not to reply. He hit me with his lathi, this time the cane stick fell on my back that was already fractured. I yelled in pain.
‘What the hell do you think these places are? Huh? You think that it is your bedroom. The country’s free and the road’s public so you think you can sleep on the footpath?’ He asked. There was fury in his eyes.
‘I…I…’ I tried to defend myself with words but he was not ready to listen.
‘Shut up, you know this city is filled with bloody bastards like you.’
‘I am not a bloody bastard!’ I shouted. For a moment the physical pain did not hurt me at all, the emotional pain had given me strength to shout against the furious constable.
‘If you had a legitimate father, you wouldn’t be lying drunk in railway stations at midnight.’ The constable surfaced.
‘I am not a bloody bastard!’ I repeated with a little less anger than the previous time I had said that.
The constable noticed the tear filling up my eyes, he suddenly realized that I was about to surrender. He sighed, noticing the helpless anger that I had displayed
.
‘How old are you?’ He asked calmly.
‘Nineteen’ I replied.
‘What were you doing there?’
‘I was trying to get a night’s sleep!’ I cried desperately.
‘On the bench? Where do you live?’
‘I do not have a home. I left that a year ago.’
‘What? Who is your father, what does he do?’
‘My father is a crazy old man, he is a maths teacher in a boys’ school.’
‘Where?’
‘Tuticorin’
‘Tuticorin! And what are you doing here then?’
‘I ran away, I wanted to become an actor. I came here.’
The old constable put his arms on his waist and uttered a signal of suspiration. He asked my name, ‘What is your name?’
‘My name is Krishnaprasad…’ paused ‘…Iyer’
‘Wait until I report this to the Police station in your town. You are not going anywhere but home, young man.’ He ordered once again, ‘Don’t you have any shame? You have brought such a disgrace to your family by running away at such a young age. An age when you ought to be cramming for exams, you are here drunk and lying unwittingly on railway station benches!’
‘I do not care, I am nineteen, and I am an adult. I have the right to stay where I want. If you do not let me go then…’
‘Then… What?’ He interrupted.
I looked around, there was a door at about a dozen feet away and since it was early, there was no one standing at the door. All I had to do was gather enough power to propel myself out of that door and run until I could lose the police constable. I took a very deeply seated breath, the constable said something, but I could not hear it. I concentrated my entire self into that one breath so that I could gather the pulse riding on each and every cell of my body. I stood like a statue for moment. The constable was silently observing me. But before he could study me further, I blasted out of the room.
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