Since last ten days, was completely out of social network. Friends, colleagues, well wishers and readers of our blog sent messages, mailed and tweeted to ask where have I vanished. Was busy with life, and death. May be the toughest ten days of my life. Because its scary when Goldman’s great quote on showbiz seems to apply on life too – Nobody knows anything. What do you do then ? Pray ? But am a born atheist. May be not any more, may be am converting.
Mr S.U.N
Just back from ISKCON, Juhu. Director Anurag Basu and his friends organised a meet to remember Sourabh Usha Narang. The young director who passed away on 26th june after a prolonged battle with cancer.
In the morning, I was in Calcutta. After almost ten days, returned to Mumbai by noon. And then it was straight down to ISKCON. Unlike many others who were present there, I wasn’t close to him, never worked with him and can’t really call him a friend too. But I knew him. And I felt like going there. I generally avoid going for any kind of days…birthdays, deathdays and all days in between. Either am scared of something or I get bored easily!
Had met Sourabh few times, here and there. And then sometime back, we met formally, through a producer friend. He was working on a film, looking for a writer. Talking movies in bollylalaland, aha, there is no end to bitchfest.
We started with the film, went back to our school life, college days, his college friend whom I knew and passed him some goss that he was happy to hear and was surprised, his tv days, and the shows which I saw when I was in school/college. And it seemed like a never ending session that day. He asked me to write few scenes – some he liked, some he wanted a different tone. After that, it was a comma, i was told. Never imagined that it will turn into a fullstop so soon.
Many films die everyday – on paper, at producers office, at actor’s house but people don’t. At least, those whom we know. So easily, so early. At 37, that’s just cruel.
It was a sunday afternoon of untold stories and uncontrollable tears that rolled. What happens between two people, remains between them. And with Sourabh, I guess, there was lot that happened between him and those who were there. Ketan Mehta, Anuradha Prasad, Mahesh Bhatt, Anurag Basu, Vijay Raaz, Vikas Behl, Chetan Motiwalla, Rucha Sharma, Sachin Krishn, Sohail Tatari, Vidya Balan and many of his friends came on stage to share those stories of dreams and demons, of fights and farewells, of writing and writhing, of daaru parties and dramas, of coffee and cigarettes. The list in endless. Some were calm, others took long pauses to gather their thoughts, some left the stage with incomplete sentences and some just could not control themselves. Its difficult talking about someone with whom you ever shared something memorable.
Kameena chala gaya…Vishal Bhardwaj’s voice choked as he remembered how Sourabh helped him direct his first short film. As he continued, the pauses became longer and he said he will just wrap it with two songs that he feels like singing – Paani paani re and the one that Sourabh loved – dil toh baccha hai ji. Rekha Bhardwaj and Ankur Tewari also sang – the songs that Sourabh loved, the songs that bonded them somehow, somewhere.
Saw many known and unknown faces, the auditorium was packed. Its rare in bollywood. Having seen the industry from close quarters in the last few years, have realised one thing – Nobody will come to your funeral if you had a glorious past but you have been out of work. And all the Khans & Kapoors will appear in spotless white if your next generation/company has a great future. To put it simply, in showbiz, people care about the future, not the past. So, it felt great in a way. Because here it was about a filmmaker who made just one film (Vastu Shastra. He did lot of tv before that) but people wanted to talk about him, share their memories, tell those tales. Every good friend deserves such a goodbye. It reminded me of the essay topic in school which I could not understand for a long time – we live in deeds, not in years.
I used to call him Mr S.U.N. Shine, wherever you are mister!
And as the saying goes…the only difference between life and cinema is that in cinema everything has to make sense and in life, it doesn’t. Aha, life!
Diving bells and a butterfly
The day I got to know about Sourabh’s death, I was in Calcutta. Too much was going on in my life. Someone close (G) was detected with a tumor in her spine. And at an age of 83, every doctor warned us of the risks involved. What risk ? Anything can happen. ANYTHING! They didn’t want to spell the bad word. Solution – Only surgery. Or ? There is no way out. Tumour will keep on growing. So, in worst case scenario – it was slow death in five years or in just two hours. Almost everyone was against surgery. The warnings from the doctor had created more fear. Slow death – no way. Whatever happens, will happen – lets go for it, I thought.
It started with convincing my parents, close relatives and then the most important person – G! No, i cant do anything. But i tried to talk to her everyday to make it sound that there is no risk, its a small surgery, the result will depend on what she thinks and believes in. That’s it. Told her about Roger Ebert and how he survived. About 101 year old director Manoel de Oliveira whose film was at Cannes this year. Lil’ tales of big hope and survival. I was trying to boost her confidence but I was scared, shit scared! Sourabh’s sudden death made it look more scary. Viveka Babajee’s news was all over the news channels. Seemed like the universe was conspiring and wanting to tell a different tale to me. I was trying to run to other side.
Days were spent in hospital, in the night I would try to find a reason to return home late. Because at home, the same discussions would go in loop. Walking down long distances, window shopping and some random films in the theatres saved me.
INT. AMRI HOSPITAL – Day
Baba..baba…baba…baba…baba…she whispered into his right ear. Or at least she thought she is whispering. With every “baba” her voice was growing louder. The man on the bed wasn’t responding in any way. There were several tubes, respirators and medical stuff which I cant identify, coming out and going in through different pores of his body. The man remained silent.
A security woman came from the other side announcing that visiting hours is over, time to leave. Please hurry up. The woman continued whispering Baba…baba…till the security woman asked her to leave the room.
Next day – I heard the same sound...baba…baba…baba….baba…the man was still silent. Third day, it was the same sound and the same expression. Fourth day…G was shifted to other room. Next day, I saw the woman’s face clearly, at the medical store. Completely calm, expressionless. May be her glasses covered her eyes or may be I need a new pair.
HDU Unit. Bed – 2460
The man on the left side of G’s bed was staring blankly at the ceiling. Another man standing next to his bed, pulls out the earphones from his pocket, connects it to the mobile phone and puts the plugs into the man’s ears. I guess it was some music he loved. They tried talking to him too. The man on the bed didn’t respond.
The next day, I smiled and we started talking. Got to know that the man on the bed was in CRPF. Had an accident, some major internal haemorrhage and now he has stopped responding. Though he can hear. So, everyday, during the visiting hours, his friend and brother come and play the songs that he loved. I asked him what songs. But we were lost in translation. English-Hindi-Tamil-Bengali – there was no common ground. I said Paruthiveeran, Subramanipuram…two of my favourite tamil films in recent past, to connect the dots somewhere. He said Singam. And then Suriya. His first film, saar. I guess he was playing the songs from Suriya’s first film.
Visiting hours over. They quietly took out the earplugs and left. A male nurse informed me that its the same routine since last few days.
Red Rose
Coming out of the lift, saw a man on wheelchair. He had a red rose in his hand. Think that’s the norm in the hospital, the sign of being discharged. Am not fond of flowers or roses as such, they look best in their natural environment. But this time I am desperately hoping for the red one. The surgery went fine. G survived. Finally a butterfly – it was a big relief. She asked for some hot drink just after she came out of the OT. The nurse smiled. She said was feeling very cold. I informed the nurse that Horlicks is her lifeline.
Was informed today that my G will be discharged soon. She is still under observation but is doing fine. Will she be able to walk again ? Goldman comes to mind again. And that’s the answer from the doctors too. Rest all depends on physiotherapy and her efforts. Yes, I will convert completely if G starts walking again.
( PS – Started writing the post yesterday. Could not complete. Was becoming too heavy. Also, do watch the film The Diving Bell and The Butterfly. Its a must must watch. The last film which blew my mind.)
Pic Courtesy – Am not sure who made that montage. It was put up at the meet along with few others. But whoever did it, thanks a ton)
F.i.g.h.t C.l.u.b 