Atif and I are meeting after almost a decade. We began our writing careers at the same time. After college hours, we worked as rookie reporters with a seasoned journalist who used to hire folks that wanted to get trained but didn’t mind being underpaid.
I called him up on a whim, and he invited me over for tea. “Yaar, aao na. Sunday hai toh kya hua? Shaadi shuda log aksar kabab mein haddi pasand karte hain. Boriyat bhari zindagi mein kuchh zaayka mil jaata hai.” (Dude, come over. So what if it is a Sunday? Married couples often prefer some intrusion. It brings some spice into their boring lives.)
He lives in the Seven Bungalows neighbourhood. His directions on the phone are quite explicit but the auto-rickshaw driver is as geographically challenged as I am. We look for all the landmarks - the cow-shed, the hutments, the restaurant. And we keep getting lost.
Finally I reach the place and Atif’s warmth makes it seem like we had met just yesterday. We go over memories like letters filed away in a dusty trunk.
“You remember that Aishwarya Rai interview? You had asked her: ‘Caught between Salman Khan and Vivek Oberoi, how do you feel?’ You were so mean,” he reminds me.
"Remember that Aishwarya Rai interview? You asked: 'Caught between Salman Khan and Vivek Oberoi, how do you feel?' You were so mean"
I want to hide my face. I was 19 years old at that time.
“I am so not proud of that, yaar. I know we were trained to scoop out gossip. But that was bloody inhumane,” I tell him.
“I am sure she doesn’t even remember it,” he says.
“I hope so,” is my brief reply.
***
It is an unusual day. I have to meet Katrina Kaif two hours from now. Her film ‘Fitoor’ is on the verge of release, so her publicist has lined up some interviews. My aunt is so excited that she wants me to shave. “Heroine ko milne jaana hai. Hero toh banke jaao,” she says. (You are going to meet a heroine. You have to look like a hero.) Yeah, right! That’s what we are meeting for.
The interview is at Mehboob Studios in Bandra. This is where Guru Dutt shot his classic ‘Kaagaz Ke Phool’, where Dev Anand made ‘Guide’. And where Karan Johar filmed parts of ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’, and where Sanjay Leela Bhansali shot ‘Saawariya’. This place is named after the legendary Mehboob Khan, the man who directed ‘Mother India’. In fact, he was the one who built this place. There is so much history here. I wish someone would make a museum, or do an oral history project.
I wait an hour for a ten-minute interview. This is the most boring interview of my life. I want to know what Katrina feels about the body image issues young girls face as there is so much pressure on them to look a certain way. She tells me, “See, there’s a choice you have to make - you either go for dinner with your friends, or you go to the gymnasium.” Thank you! That is very enlightening.
Photograph taken outside Mount Mary Church by the author
There is a lovely ice cream parlour right outside Mehboob Studios. My friend Neeraj asks for the roasted almond flavour. I prefer strawberry. These guys have the creamiest strawberry ice cream ever, with real fruit in it. Yum!
“Waheeda Rehman always asks for roasted almond,” says the owner of the parlour. Neeraj is delighted that he has chosen well.
“Jackie Shroff likes kala jamun. John Abraham tries different varieties,” we are informed.
Let me tell you about Neeraj. He and I are the sort of friends that don’t get mad at each other for not meeting up. Our plans are quite spontaneous. We don’t fix appointments weeks in advance.
Today, we are walking up to Mount Mary Church. It is a pleasant route, with stalls selling flowers, candles and all kinds of offerings.
Neeraj hasn’t been here before. He spots a house made of wax, and asks, “What is this for?”
The little boy at the stall says, “People who want to buy a new house offer this to Mother Mary, and she blesses them.”
We spot many other objects of aspiration cast in wax: a car, a refrigerator, a television, a baby, and a bottle. The last of the lot leaves Neeraj puzzled.
“Is this for people who want to buy alcohol but don’t have the money?” he asks.
The little boy laughs at him, and says, “No! This is for people who want to give up drinking.”
On our way back from the shrine, we see another church. It has a sign at the entrance saying, “The choices we make today create our future.”
It sounds like a condom advertisement to me. It sounds like Paulo Coelho to Neeraj.
We walk further, and another church comes into view. The sign here says: “Prevent Truth Decay. Brush up on your Bible.”
“Man, what’s happening to Bandra? Are all the churches hiring copywriters now?” he asks.
I suspect the answer is ‘Yes’.
Chintan Girish Modi is a Mumbai-based writer. That he shares his last name with a Prime Minister is purely a matter of coincidence. He tweets at @chintan_connect
