Mori Road, A Sardar, Amir Khan and Me.

Returning from work, as I entered the colony last night, I noticed a signboard "shooting in progress". Now that was a first, certainly in my colony where I had lived all these years and most certainly at Mori Road!

The whole square was lit up and decked up like some sort of wedding venue. Lights strung down the facade of the building shining brilliantly, the facade had a new coat of paint and in addition to the lights there were lanterns, floral patterns and a small makeshift fountain at the center. The crew with wireless headsets on was moving around busily. Some of them kept ushering onlookers like us back and for a moment I felt like a guest in my own back yard.

Mr. Singh, an old resident and someone who lived on the floor above was standing besides me. I was so intrigued by what was happening, that I did not notice him nudging me till he almost shouted in my ear "I say, do you know that Amir Khan is coming here for the shoot?” If I was intrigued a moment earlier, now I was stunned. The eighty plus year old Mr. Singh was flush with excitement and had a twinkle in his eye that I had not seen in the last forty odd years I had known him. "Amir Khan ? Here, I mean why, and what movie? " I mumbled. "Yes, yes, this is for the Pepsi ad shoot. You see they are shooting a new ad for Diwali and this is the set for that. Our square has never looked so beautiful. Don't you agree. He is going to come in sometime now."

Mr. Singh, actually Kuldeep Uncle, spoke fluent Bengali as he had spent a lot of time in Kolkata. He was a cardiac patient and I often saw him always walking slowly up the stairs. He led a very restrained life, hardly ever coming down from his third floor apartment. More recently he had another cardiac complication that had laid him down, and was advised complete bed rest. And here he was gleaming, waiting to meet Amir Khan. I was happy to see him that way after many years.

“How have you been keeping uncle” I asked. “Am still alive and kicking, what do you think eh?” he said. “Sure, great to see you down here uncle. How long have you been waiting here?” I asked. He had been waiting for 45 minutes now. Kuldeep uncle had seen me grow up. I went to the same school as his sons and with both his sons now in the US, he often invited me to his house for tea, which I never found, time to go. “You should come home one day. You know it is not very far, just upstairs” he said jokingly.

I was not listening again as my focus was on my car where a few people were trying to perch themselves on the boot of my car to get a better view. I protested and made them get down and found Kuldeep uncle chuckling. “Well, that was not amusing I hope uncle” I said a little irritated. “Oh no, I was thinking of an incident, a long time back when one Diwali, someone decided to play a prank and ruined my car. You remember the old black Fiat I had? Someone decided to burst a bomb on the bonnet of my car and the result of that was the whole bonnet went out of shape and the color went from black to white”. And he looked at me intently. “I am still trying to find out who that culprit was. Any ideas?”

Cut and Flashback. 25 years ago. You often do many silly things when you are young and especially in your confused state as an adolescent teenager. It was Diwali and our colony square was lit brilliantly and my gang of friends was bursting crackers. The louder the noise, the greater the thrill. We burst crackers in the open, in a tin can, in the staircase, lit box bombs, the double crackers but something was missing. That kick was not there. I looked at a gleaming black Fiat parked in the parking lot. And when you get a bad idea, there are some guys who just egg you on. I had friends who could simply encourage you to do the impossible. And before we knew it, we placed the box bomb on the bonnet of the car, looked around to see if anyone was looking, I lit it and then we all ran for our life. Seconds later there was the loudest “bang” you could hear that Diwali and I remember hiding for a long time. As I came out, I saw some elders gathered around the car. The bonnet was warped out of shape and the color - yes had gone from completely black to completely white. I did not stand there for long and our gang thought it best to slip away lest anyone would begin to ask.

Later that evening, I met Kuldeep Uncle. He was hovering over his battered car. “Do you know who did this?” he asked. I gulped and then sympathized with him profusely cursing the kind of person who could be capable of such a criminal act.

Fast Forward and we are now standing 25 years later at Amir Khan’s Pepsi shoot. Deja vu. The same type of lights, the Diwali atmosphere, Kuldeep Uncle and me. And Kuldeep Uncle’s question rang in my ears as if he used a megaphone “I am still trying to find who that culprit was. Any ideas?”

Now when you are a middle-aged father of two, I think you develop what is called a conscience or a certain preference for the truth. And sometimes the conscience wins over practical common sense, though you are trying very hard not to let that happen. I hemmed, hawed and then blurted out “Yes”.

“Yes? Did you say yes?” Kuldeep Uncle moved two steps forward. His six feet frame seemed to straighten up and the twinkle in his eye had gone for his eyes narrowed their gaze on me. “Well, I guess I must tell you, if you are looking for the culprit, he is standing right in front of you. It was me.” I said, and I went silent and my gaze fell to the ground.

He surely cannot slap me at this age I thought. I hope this does not affect his cardiac condition further. He may begin shouting any moment now. As a zillion such thoughts I felt a light hand on my shoulder and he said “Young man, what took you so long? I was waiting when you would tell me and I thought you never would.” Words come with great difficulty at such moments. I stammered “You mean, you, you, you actually knew it was me? And since when?” And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. “I knew this all along since the very day you did it. Jaggi uncle saw you folks from his balcony. And don’t stare at me like an owl now. I decided not to tell you or your parents.” he said.

“Why?” I blurted. “Because your parents would have been very hurt, you would have got a hard time at home and your grandfather, who I looked up to would be most disappointed. But more importantly, had I done that, you would grow up hating Kuldeep Uncle, would’nt you? If I had to choose between justice for my damaged bonnet and your well being, you will agree that I chose wisely.”

I did not feel this way for a long time. Hot under the ears, perspiring under the collar and alternating between red and crimson, if I could see my face. “I am sorry. And it took me 25 years to say this. How can I make it up to you Uncle?”

“Ah, now we are doing business. I am not going to let you off so easily young man. If you spoilt one evening, surely I must have the liberty of spoiling one of yours” he said. “Sure, uncle, tell me and I will do anything it takes” I said. “Think it over before saying yes” he smiled, and the twinkle in his eyes were back. I nodded that I was game and he could pronounce the verdict. “Well young man, you have to come and have tea with me one evening and spend time with a boring eighty year old for a couple of hours. And for the time that you are there, you will tell me about yourself for the years gone by. Since the time Binu (his son) left you have never come home.”

“Is that all” I asked. “Now will you do it or no?” he retorted. “Of course uncle. How about tomorrow?” He stepped forward and put his arm around me. “Tomorrow is great. It is Mahalaya and your punishment is that you will be starting this Puja off with this old man. It’s late and I must leave now. It’s been a while since I spent an evening of good adda with someone of my son’s age. See I struck a better deal than getting to see Amir Khan” With that said, he slowly walked away, taking one step at a time, leaning on his walking stick.

It had been a while since I had parked. It was time to head home. “You are late, I saw your car enter a long time ago. Were you standing down all star struck. Well, I hope you met your hero” my wife said. I smiled, and almost instantly said “Yes, I think I just did. I got invited to tea with him tomorrow.” I left her puzzled. “You must be tired. Get some dinner.” she said.

It is Mahalaya today. As the day dawned with the chanting of the Shlokas, I thought of my confession last night and smiled. I can’t wait for the evening to arrive. A tea invite never seemed so endearing. And all the credit for this goes to Amir Khan and his crew.

Mori Road has some amazing folks who live here. And if you have done anything like me in your younger days, take your chances and confess. You may just get invited to tea as well! Trust the festive atmosphere.

Happy Mahalaya folks and Happy Pujas.