Z.G.MUHAMMAD
Our study was an eight-foot by six-foot small cubicle with three taakhs (windows) and a glazed multi-coloured terracotta tile floor. Of the three windows, one opened towards a narrow lane that led to a maze of lanes, with every lane telling a story about the resistance the Downtowners had offered before my birth. During hot summers, squatting and studying on the bareterracotta tile floor of the room gave us an air-conditioned feel, and during winters covered with woolen rugs, it used to be the cosiest place in our home. Those days, we were almost self-sufficient and rarely depended on imports; tens of terracotta tile kilns in a few Mohallas in our neighbourhood- spread over from Khanayar to Kralayar. Thousands of artisans produced quality woollen rugs in Mohallas on the foothills of Kohi-i-Maran.
In more than one way, our study was our small world where we spent most of the time. My elder brother Yousf was a sort of film buff, and almostevery month, he purchased a couple of film magazines- the Picture Post, the Filmfare, and the Screen are some of the names that I still remember. Clipping out pictures and blow-ups of his favourite actors from these magazines and pasting them on the inside door of our reading room was one of his best pastimes. To the annoyance of elders at home, he even got some pictures of actors framed by a Kashmiri Pandit frame maker near Ganpat Yar, Basant Bagh- perhaps the name of the frame maker was Pran Nath. In those days, the Moghuls of Indian Cinema were Dilip Kumar, Raj Kapoor and Dev Anand. They reigned supreme in the hearts and minds of boys and girls. Of the three, my brother was the greatest fan of Dev Anand. He endeavoured hard to do his hairstyle. Like him, he carefully puffed up his hair with the curl in the middle, flaunting charm in his style by keeping up the collar of his shirt. Being a pampered child of the family, he had a rich wardrobe- he got his suits and coats stitched to imitate the dress worn by one or other film actor.
Of course, he was more handsome than me and some of his friends- and the heartbeat of some…. who addressed him letters. Sometimes, I tried to copycat his hairstyle by applying Brylcream to my spiky hair, upping my shirt collar, and started believing that I, too, looked like Dev Anand- the Gregory Peck of Indian cinema. Perhaps it was in class eight when my friend and I saw his first film, Asli-Naqli, in the third class of the old Regal or Amrish cinema. The ticket for the third class cost sixty-five paise.
In the wildest of my dreams, I had never thought I would one day see the topmost matinee idol in flesh and blood. Thanks to my posting in Bombay in the early eighties, I came into contact with the giants of literature and doyens of Indian cinema. I had the opportunity to meet and talk to the matinee idols I admired most. In March 1984, our State’s chief executive was once again in the metropolitan and the Anand brothers- Chetan Anand, Dev Anand, andVijay Anand hosted an evening for him at Vijay Anand’s Bandra Villa. On his earlier visits, his hosts were Ramanand Sagar, the Chopra Brothers, Sunil Dutt and Shatrughan Sinha. For their contribution to Indian cinema, every one of the three Anand brothers was a big name. On the way to Goldie’s house, as Vijay Anand was known to the film crowd of the metropolitan, the chief executive, with a child’s smile, asked me ‘if all the three brothers would be waiting for us. Laughing, he said, ‘there were times when standing in front of the Palladium Cinema and looking at the hoardings, I dreamt of shaking hands with these big stars.’ (Extract From Forthcoming Book Handcuffed To History – Story of Ward Four Boy By ZGM )
Z.G.Muhammad is a noted writer and columnist
