Viji Venkatesh, Region Head (India & South Asia), The Max Foundation I Managing Trustee - Friends of Max I Trustee, Being Human The Salman Khan Foundation.
Saturday, October 7, 2023
Wednesday, November 4, 2020
100% Love - Remembering Samantha
Samantha
Wexler had become so much a part of my life .
Ever
since we met at the Vienna New Horizons years and years ago we had just hit it
off . She had a rare cancer . Wild-type GIST an even rarer type of GIST . What
I thought then was how she was so very young. We became close because
every time I visited Montreal to see my son and family we would meet . I became
a part of her charmed circle - her sweet husband and dog and her life as a
student in Concordia and I also saw her become a powerful voice in her
community of GIST patients.
She
was pursuing her doctorate in the Dept of Art History with so much passion and
dedication . Her subject was the role and presence of and reference to the
mythical Unicorn in various forms of art and literature.
You
could not think Sam and not think of those elegant, beautiful creatures and
vice versa . There was something so ethereal about her too . So gentle , so
waif like , so sensitive . But she was pure steel inside .
Her
GIST became aggressive . Her treatment too , equally aggressive and toxic . Her
disease progressed and became metastatic and she had to stop school . But she
wasn’t ready to sit and do nothing . She began to do stuff online . She became
her own model and started a Make Up Show & Tell page on Facebook . She sold
exciting stuff demonstrating it all herself - I would be amazed at her strength
and courage as day after day there would be live demonstrations- her chemo
ravaged face would glow , her eyes shine with fierce determination and her lips
pout tellingly in the brightest red lipstick . Her lost to chemo hair began
growing in wisps , then they shaved it off for her craniotomy but she was out
there . And she looked so beautiful . So powerfully beautiful . All you saw was
how she kept herself engaged and making the most of what resources she
had.
It
broke her heart to stop going to University. I’ve seen her with all her
Unicorn research paraphernalia. So much joy it gave her . Such a purpose in
life .
In
the midst of all of this , she and Richard hosted a Chai for Cancer Adda at
their warm and cosy little pad in Montreal . Richard ! What do you say about a
boy friend , a husband and a care giver like him ? I have no words . His whole
world and life revolved around Sam .
And
then it all became too much . On Instagram she opened a window for us to look
at the view from her hospital room that she was in more frequently now . To
also look into the window of her own mind and soul.
And
then it became worse . They had to open up and look at what was happening
inside her brain . She let them do all of it .
Hers
was a rare disease and her version even rarer . We will learn about it together
she said. Today she’s gone but left her body to medical science so we continue
to learn more about how and why it did what it did to her .
I
had breakfast with Sam and Richard in June . That’s the last time I saw her.
That stolen weekend in Montreal end June this year , the beginning of summer .
The sun streaming in and enveloping us in its lovely golden glow . I had taken
her a shawl , a cream confection with little red hearts woven all over it .
Richard had laid out a table fit for two queens.
We
bit into the warm, crisp , buttery croissants and talked and laughed . I knew I
would not see her again . You know that . It was hard to miss .
What
I will miss is our annual meeting at the Second Cup at St Catherine’s -
sometimes the more than once a year rendezvous when after my mandatory Montreal
hair cut at Zap I would pose and preen to get Sam’s approval. Over steaming
cups of chai ! Whether it was winter or summer.
She
loved my cropped hair . Ah she said, maybe we will grow our hair back together
...
From The 100 Saree Pact
110/100
#100sareepact
An
unusual blue green weave with a really dramatic Pallu in bright blue .
This is not a blue I would generally wear but the shaded blue green of the body
of the Saree enticed me and I bought it from FabIndia a few years ago . I
never found a proper blouse for it so it was rarely worn till I found this one
from yes, Bijouri .
It
is still so hot in Bombay , one cannot dream of wearing anything but cotton .
The conflict is that the humidity makes the Saree so limp even before
you're half way through the day .
I
usually prefer a Saree to work especially if I have a hospital visit planned or
am meeting a patient for the first time and the treating physicians too. It's
just a code I've had for years so since today I had to go to Tata Hospital , a
Saree it was .
Tata
Hospital : I realise that in all these months of Saree parting , this
remarkable institution has not featured in my Saree stories at all . That's
rather strange for I go there almost every other day and I wear a Saree too
almost every other day and I have just told you that I always wear a Saree when
I go to the hospital to meet the doctors ...well , let me go figure that out .
I
went to meet a little girl who is undergoing treatment for a rare kind of acute
Leukemia and the family is in need of some support . Her father , who looks
like her older brother I swear , a charming and smiling young man works as a
spot boy in one of the film studios and yes you guessed right , Salman Khan
wanted me to see how he could help. Like I always say, we can all learn a thing
or two and even more from these children who are so unquestioningly accepting
of their condition and who factor it into their lives and go on with the
business of their uncomplicated living . The Pediatric OPD today reminded me
all over again of this .
Tata
Hospital to me is nothing less than a temple or should I say so much more than
a temple. It is where I learned everything about what I know now about cancer .
The three years i spent here in the late 80s / early 90s when I was deputed to
help set up the Department of Preventive Oncology was enough for me to
understand and accept that this was what doing something worthwhile was all
about . Working with those two young, eager and dedicated surgeons and their
teams, day after day impressing upon the minds of asymptomatic but high risk
individuals the importance of early detection. The very same surgeons who today
are the Directors of this hallowed institution . The technicians in the Labs,
the guys in the Records Dept., Accounts section, the lift men and the OPD and
ICU ward boys and orderlies , the Sisters and the Matrons , the Admin personnel
: each one knew what it was that they give to a patient and what it meant to
them and the family ,when they attend to them . And it is the same today, the
same dedication and commitment in the doctors and the same commitment to serve,
in the staff. They teach one what is really meant by work is worship . I wasn't
there in the Pediatric OPD for even 30 minutes before Dr Brijesh Arora ( whom I
have known since he was a resident in AIIMS in 2001?) stopped by with
reassurances that the little girl was in the best hands.
I
left the hospital knowing very well that between the hospital and Bhaijaan and
I, the little girl would indeed be fine and her parents get all the support
they needed.
For
obvious reasons, pictures only outside the hospital ...and this I think is the
first and only picture I have of the institution that has given me so much.
Here's to so many of the amazing people who make this place what it is . I
haven't taken their names . They know who they are.
After
this, the day at work passed in a blur of , well, work day issues and at 5:30 I
decided to go to the library to catch up with some research I need to do to
make my presentations for a couple of upcoming workshops .
The
David Sassoon Library in Kala Ghoda , is one well kept secret I swear.
Except for the few regulars like me who haunt it , bringing our
work and deadlines to its gleaming but worn desks and cane chairs , there's no
one around. The sound of the whirring fans almost drowning that of the traffic
outside the grand arches and balustrades and the late evening light making the
green glassed doorways glow with a magical warmth , it is so , so conducive to
good, hard work . Tempted as I was to collapse on the planters' chairs
invitingly laid out in the verandah ( a favourite with some Uncles and their
newspapers ) I managed to put in a good coupLe of hours work .
On a
whim I decided to see if old friend , Dr Nitin Salian would have finished his
evening consulting at his Colaba clinic. And bully him into my Saree pact story
of the day . Busy schedules and the crazy topography of Bombay keeps the best
of friends apart and it is rare I am around this part of town when Nitin is
free,
Nitin
is a general surgeon and he and I have known each other now for over 27 years
or more. He was part of my Early Diagnosis team that would go from to
Mill to Mill and Factory to Factory on weekday afternoon Cancer Detection camps
. His lovely wife and two young children would spare him during those precious
afternoons in between morning surgery and evening consulting to come with us on
these medical camps throughout the length and breadth of the city and its
suburbs as did a few other committed physicians .
Oh
what a tough task to make Nitin pose for the Saree pact pictures and get his 6'
5" frame into the other frame as well . But not at all difficult to get
him to talk about his own brush with the Big C. Nitin is now on maintenance
chemotherapy after 6 vigorous rounds of curative chemo and 25 sittings of
Radiation for his Non Hodgkins Lymphoma that surfaced one fine day about two
years ago.
He
smiles wryly as he recounts ( not for the first time ) how he was doing his
crunches and suddenly from nowhere felt this coconut sized lump in the region
of his abdomen and hey then and there it was Hello Cancer . Amazing grit
and an almost stoic acceptance that the treatment has to be borne and believe
me not one day of work missed in between all of it.
Looking
awesome you are Nitin these days. That head of silver hair looks gorgeous and
here's to hard work and taking it on the chin.
Sunday, October 18, 2020
The Ummachi Diaries
The Ummachi
Diaries :
 |
| All made up for the first shot of the day |
October
2019
Because
I promised Maiji I’m going to put this down so here goes -
Yes
that’s me: no makeup no lipstick no eyeliner no mascara no kaajal no trademark
big nose ring and no silver bangles too but you anyway can’t see them.
Say Hello
to Akhil Sathyan’s Ummachi .
It
all began with one message on my Instagram page from casting director Gayathri Smitha
and almost ended with it because I never saw it .
It
was very brief . She was casting for a Malayalam feature film and would I be interested?
More importantly, did I speak Malayalam? Of course I hadn't seen the message.
But the lady was persistent and she had a young colleague follow up with a
message on Facebook. This too I missed but eventually I did see it. The only
reason I check messages from “non” friends or followers on various platforms is
because occasionally it is possible a patient may be trying to connect with me.
Young
Ankit from the Casting Director’s office was persuasive and managed to talk to
me on phone and the first thing I told him was I had a full time job and I
spoke very little and that too very bad Malayalam .
Notwithstanding
this confession somehow the young man persuaded me to send a few photos and
then a one minute video in which I was asked to introduce myself in
Malayalam.
I
will never look at that video again - it was so bad.
 |
| The Look Test - styled by Uthara Menon |
November
3rd 2019
Then
I got a call from Gayathri Smitha . I still hadn’t seen her message. She told
me the Director was coming to Bombay and could I have Lunch with him Sunday afternoon?
Please? And please no silver bangles no earrings no makeup. Please?
I
went on like a stuck record - I have a full time job & I speak very bad Malayalam.
It’s Sunday she said. And Akhil Sathyan speaks great English.
I
went. I walked into that Bandra restaurant minus my bangles, my earrings,
my makeup and one look at the young man who got up to greet me with the most
brilliant uncomplicated smile I’ve ever seen I wanted to be in his film . Never
mind the full time job and the bad Malayalam.
Over
grilled fish and mashed potatoes he narrated the story of Ummachi and I was her.
Or rather determined to be her. Eyes closed, literally, I said Yes !
It
was much later that I saw Gayatri Smita’s unread message on Instagram... but it
did not matter by then.
 |
| I was signed up !!! |
The
burning question was of course:
How
did you find me ? I mean what brought a cancer care professional like me into your
orbit, I asked Akhil (by this time I knew he was the son of the well-known
Malayalam filmmaker Sathyan Anthikkad. Oh ! our casting Director Gayathri Smitha
found you for us . He showed me the Instagram photo that had clinched it ! The
Look he was looking for . It was the makeover Sreenanda Shankar had given me
... the peach lipstick one . And apparently the casting director had seen me in
Bangalore’s Sly Granny one time and stashed me away in her mind somewhere. Anju
and Ketyav Kadam the only time I’ve been there is with you and the old man
!
Story
session over and lunch done then that Sunday morning in Bandra we made plans to
meet again and Akhil says Please can you wear a saree and maybe bring in the
same look ? The Instagram look? And then we’ll talk some more. But no makeup
please he added .
 |
| The elegant Stylist Uthara Menon |
November
6th 2019
So we met a couple of days later and it was
over breakfast at my favourite haunt The Taj Mahal Tea House and we talked some
more and before I knew it my screen test was done- quietly and at my desk at
work if you please, and on his phone camera and ( I guess ) approved too . That
bit of dialogue I had to learn and emote will remain my favourite in the film.
I
couldn’t believe this was happening!
And
now what I wondered but my young Director had it all planned out .
I
will send you your scenes he said and you look out for a Malayalam tutor
?
Also
, could we have a smaller mookuthi he asked ... this is , motioning to the
gorgeous one I was sporting , too “ Patthathi” for Ummachi ? And oh please he
added with another shy smile - maybe you could , you know , not have a haircut
now and mm you know do nothing to those eyebrows too ? I think this was when I
felt it was all getting real ... I was being asked to get into prep mode for a
role in a film!!!
The
day ended with a quick trip to Maa Hajiani Dargah . I mean I had to take him
there na ? Something told me Akhil would love it and he did and swore he would
shoot there. More about that maybe in my next?
 |
| The endearing Vineeth Radhakrishnan |
 |
| The Director gives the thumbs up to the look |
December
2019
All
of December went in work and trying to fit in the Physio appointments for my
bum knee and Malayalam classes with Mrs Rajam - bless the lady. She’d greet me
with her sweet smile and have my hot chai ready sometimes with a nice Kerala
delicacy for tiffin - but she was a hard task master our Rajam Aunty. She
helped me transcribe the script / dialogue notes Akhil had sent into English
and I would read them out scene by scene. No matter it had been a long day at work,
no excuse for not getting into Ummachi mode - but always with that patient
smile that reached her kind eyes. A rare reward was an appreciative nod from
her husband who was our quiet and discerning audience.
When
I wasn’t reading out my dialogues and getting the accent right I was listening
to the voice notes Akhil had painstakingly recorded and sent to me on my phone.
Ummachi’s words were literally ringing in my ears during any free time I had
especially during my long commute. The day I got it all right and Rajam Aunty
gave me 9/10 she decided a thanksgiving visit to the Ambalam was due and took
me to the Guruvayur Temple nearby proudly introducing me as her actor
student.
The
truth was, except for my family and a couple of close friends I hadn’t spoken
about the offer and ensuing activities to anyone ...
 |
| Makeup artist Sapna |
 |
| On the steps of Maa Hajjiani Dargah |
 |
| Akhil and his crew |
January
3rd 2020
By
now I was totally consumed by Ummachi’s character , her lines , her moods and
her thoughts . I was spouting her dialogues day in and day out - whenever I had
a minute to spare; eating , breathing and dreaming just those dialogues.
Then
it was time for Akhil to come over once again to Bombay and this time to check
on my Malayalam and my accent and we met again at my favourite Adda . This time
it was for Lunch and he was so late it became high tea instead! It was lovely
seeing him and welcoming him to Bombay again. We then headed once again
to the peace & calm of afterhours at my office where he heard my dialogue
delivery . How proud I was when he put me at 9 on a scale of 1 to 10 !
It
was late evening and we managed to catch the sun go down ... and took some
photos of my favourite vista in the golden light. It was all still very, very surreal.
Even when as he took leave of me and said he’ll put the “Stylist” in touch with
me to work out my Look Test ... he was off to do some location recce and meet
his Music Director.
I
was spinning ... had I been “signed on”?
On
way home via Malayalam class I saw his post on Instagram- “Hello world. Meet
her.”
I
knew I was IN then ... the glow I felt as the sun set in a golden haze beyond
Haji Ali and the Maa Hajiani still hasn’t left me ...
That
night I dreamt about meeting the Stylist and the Look she would conjure up for
me . But more about that in my next ...
 |
| All set ... after High Tea ... I'm high |
January
11th 2020
The
Look Test
I
did not even know such a term existed ... and when Akhil said he’d put well
known stylist Uthara Menon in touch with me it was only becoming more and more
real and exciting.
The first
call I got from Uthara was to coordinate time and place with the young man who
was to make the wig for the “younger Ummachi” . I was going to be traveling on
work all of that week and if Nikhil the perruquier had to have the wig ready by
when the Look Test was going to fixed for, then he and I needed to
rendezvous very soon . Given the distances in Bombay and the traffic snarls it
seemed best I call him to meet me at work ( by now my office seemed to have
become the film’s first location ) and that left me with just one day -
Saturday. There was a patient meeting scheduled and I would be available all
through the day I told the young man over the phone. Don’t even ask me how I
managed to exitricate myself from the sessions and give the poor guy the time
he needed. And that too without letting on who he was and what i was upto .
Nikhil to his credit was the perfect profession and within minutes had all the
measurements he needed of my (not yet swollen ) head !
And
oh what a challenge getting everyone’s times to match now for the Look Test .
For me it had to be after working hours and thank God “working hours”for the
film industry was outside of my working hours which is quite a mean feat to
achieve considering mine go on for hours and hours...but coordinate we did and
rendezvoused at a studio in the Western Suburbs where for the first time I met
some of the members of Akhil Sathyan’s unit. And a delightful bunch of people. What
impressed me so much was how Uthara had with her every single item of clothing
and accessories and a tailor who whipped out a sewing machine for last minute
adjustments and someone handy with an iron as well . I surrendered without any
struggle to the ministrations of the whole team. The look of approval on the
Director’s face was reward to all .
PS -
the glamour quotient of the stylist Uthara Menon is something else indeed!
28th
January 2020
And
then the Dates were fixed and we began shooting ... The first schedules set for
end Jan .
I
was at Mayo College Ajmer on a speaking assignment and drove down that early
cold winter morning to Delhi to take the flight to Kochi . The previous day I
had completed a long cherished mannath - offering prayers at the Ajmer Sharif
Dargah. I was told so many actors came there to receive blessings before
beginning a shoot !!!
Cannot
describe the myriad thoughts going through my mind . While passing some lovely
mustard fields in bloom I thought it quite fitting to stop and do a filmy thing
right there ...after all I was going to act in a film . So why not some drama
baazi! Neeraj , my trusted Sarathy when I’m in and around Delhi was only too
happy to do the honours . It was a lovely drive and we kept stopping to take
photos and for one whopping breakfast of Aaloo Paranthas with makkhan and lassi
too . I know I wouldn’t be hungry till after I reached Kochi.
Adarsh
from the Unit was waiting for me at Kochi airport and boy did it feel strange
being received and chaperoned into a city I’d been to so many times on my own .
Looking up at some point I spotted the huge bill board of Anoop Sathyan’s film
which was releasing in a couple of days . Anoop and Akhil are the twin sons of
well known film maker Sathyan Anthikkad . Like the first family of Malayalam
cinema.
At
the hotel it was nice to put a face to the voice of young Assistant Director
Vandana who took care of everything and warned me that there might be a late
night Look Test where the Director and Make Up Team might want to do some final
adjustments.
They
were as good as their word and finally that one long day came to an end with
Akhil’s Good Night ringing in my ears - Reporting Time tomorrow morning 6:30
Ma’am .
And
I was there with the sun to be met by Akhil and my costar Vineeth
Radhakrishnan. The humility with which the actor came and introduced himself is
something I can never get over . I couldn’t believe this was indeed the well
known actor dancer who’s been acting since he was a young boy and won so many
accolades . And we were doing the first scene to be shot together ...
 |
| With Vineeth and the Sathyan twins |
 |
| Pandian Sir at work |
Kochi
Jan 29th 2020
And
so it began , my first day of shooting . It was such a surreal feeling - my own
make up van and the make up and costume team taking total charge. I was completely
at their mercy. I will never forget Pandian Sir’s sweet but firm cajoling as he
removed all traces of eye makeup I had on. Look amma , your role is of
old lady. No makeup . We have to make you look old . But I did win a
small victory when he allowed some Kaajal to remain in my eyes .
I
loved the look eventually and it seemed effortless after his ministrations to
become the Ummachi Akhil Sathyan wanted.
The
first shot was with Vineeth Radhakrishnan who went out of his way to make me
feel so much at ease and if this was how simple it was I said to myself! But
then that was before Day 2 Shot 1 which was a Big One ! Just Vineeth and I and
some of the longest and most emotional dialogues. Take after re take and I’m
only wanting to hear Akhil say Niiiice in that drawl of his to know I had done
ok . But no ... it now seemed I would not even need the glycerin because I was
almost in tears myself. If I got the expression right in one I got the
pronunciation wrong. If I got both right I muffed the lines . And so on it went
... How patient everyone was with me and how gently Vineeth made it seem
perfectly ok that I was making him do take after take with me.
I was
envious of my little co-star Jesse who would confidently run up to see the shot
on the Director’s little monitor screen after every take. I was petrified to go
take a close look myself. Till today I haven’t seen any of the footage shot.
But what I saw of the team and my lovely co stars I knew I was in great company
. The kind eyes of the DOP Sharan Velayudhan , the ever ready to help with my
lines AD Rajiv Rajendran and AD Aaron Mathew who would keep throwing me
encouraging smiles , the lovely Dilna and her hugs and most of all my Director
who when he did say Niiiice OK gave me his most beaming smile . As for the
sarees Uthara Menon had chosen for Ummachi to wear each one was a winner. I
wanted to bring them all back with me. You should have seen how shocked the
young costume team was when I said that !!!
Overwhelmed
is how I felt on Day One of the shoot of Akhil Sathyan’s film...and not just
because it was the first day of my first ever film.
Asked
to light the lamp before the first shot it still hadn’t all sunk in. This was a
unit with some top notch technical names like Sharan Velayudhan, Prabhakaran
Justin and Anil Radhakrishnan besides well known actors like Fahad Faasil and
the charming Vineeth Radhakrishnan whom I had already met. I was introduced to
the producer Sethu Mannarkkad of Full Moon Cinema - such a sweet, humble young man.
Akhil
himself was now totally immersed in getting the shots ready and the film was on
the floors.
The
moment of the morning however was this:
In
between shots while Vineeth and I were taking a short break the director walked
upto us with a clipboard in hand and began to tell us how there were going to
be a few changes ...something made me look up as he bent forward - maybe my
subconscious registered that Akhil’s white shirt had turned into a pink one
when it hit me that this was not Akhil but Anoop his brother pulling his famous
“Know The Twin” prank. Anoop Sathyan you had me there for all of 3 seconds I admit!!!
Feb1st
to 3rd 2020
Shooting
in Kochi ... who would have ever imagined. And what joy it was having family
& friends dropping in on the sets . Beena Narayanan, Amit Vaidya , Ravi and
Vijaya - thank you ❤️ And as for Sapna Babu thank
you for making me look so good ❤️
6th
February 2020
A
dream I never even dreamt of comes true .
Akhil
brings his unit to Bombay and the first
schedule is at Maa Hajjan Dargah
6.30am
call and we are at the shoot location bright and early.
For
me it is like getting to work early as we take the right at Lotus signal and
Haji Ali and the fishing boats dotting the placid sea come into view.
But now,
this is very special , more than very special . It is the Universe conspiring
in its own magical way. My first schedule in Bombay for my first ever film and
it is at “my” no, now it is “our Dargah” ...
On
his first visit to meet with me and discuss the film I had taken him to Maa
Hajiani ... this heavenly spot I have a special relationship with. Now we have come
back with his crew to shoot our first scenes in Bombay here . The sun was
golden and the sky blue. One of the most beautiful mornings ever . The whole
unit had breakfast together and then Pandian Sir & Sapna Babu took charge
in the Vanity (what a thrill to see my name next to Vineeth)
My
heart was so full. As I knelt down inside after the shoot to offer my own
prayers it was the most indescribable of all feelings. I will not even try to
describe them.
 |
| Maybe my favourite shot |
February
7th /8th 2020
And
then we did two more days of shooting in Bombay ... it just felt so amazing to see
Bombay through the eyes of Director Akhil Sathyan.
It
was a Bombay I know very well - the same Bombay I had trudged the length and
breadth of all of these last three decades and more as a working woman . The
city where I’d found my feet - the city that gave me wings to fly like a bird,
free and unfettered . Then what was this city I was seeing? Ah the power of a
camera and the eyes and mind behind it . The hearts behind it ... Akhil and DOP
Sharan Velayudhan showed me another Marine Drive , another Ballard Estate ,
another Chawl altogether and yet another Juhu . You see I was not me but
Ummachi . This was Ummachi’s Bombay .
We
shot all day and one day all through the night till the day became the next morning.
I am writing all this down more so I will never forget than share with you
reader this once in a lifetime experience.
The
Pandemic has brought an Intermission outside of the screen for now but Inshallah
Ummachi will bring to you more from her diaries ... real soon!
The last Adieu
Something I wrote a few years ago ... and as we observed the anniversary I felt it should be in my blog
Oct 13th 2015
My
husband's uncle died a couple of days ago and was cremated this morning after
his only son , our cousin flew in from Houston. Babu Mama as we affectionately
called him was not just our Uncle . He was , as most younger brothers of our
mothers are, a friend and a mentor and someone who loved us unconditionally .
Especially to my husband, this dear, caring man was like a brother and a role
model. So much so that he followed in his footsteps and became an "oil
" man himself ; and like him worked for years in the Refineries. Mama to
me, was the epitome of what a man should be . Kind and loving and charming and
caring with the most amazing sense of humour . And passionate about his work .
And he was so proud of me and my work . That meant so much to me. In his home I
was treated like a princess . His wife Mami was my friend and confidante and
his young son and daughter , even younger than what my grandchildren are today,
became my most ardent fans and till today I treasure and cherish their love for
me above everything else. So much so, that I even forgot he was my husband's
uncle and the family his, not mine . I kind of appropriated them . We could do
no wrong in their eyes ; they loved us so much . And because of that we made
certain we never made a wrong move . Love does that . It makes you good . Mama
loved Bombay . Especially the beautiful bit of the city where it's two
most famous icons the Mahalakshmi temple and the Haji Ali Dargah
sit cheek by jowl on the waters of the Arabian Sea. And our cousin decided
that's where he would immerse his father's ashes. As the sun set and the city
decked itself in its evening glitter , he went into the waters that were
receding already because of the low tide, holding the hand of young Wasim , my
little friend from the fishing village who guided him like the expert navigator
he was . They reached the waters and gently let the mortal remains of Mama
float away into the last light of the evening . You can see them if you look
carefully at the photograph . Wasim led our cousin back and we sat for a while
in a wondrous silence thinking of what we had achieved . And I said to myself ,
Mama will never really be far from us .
Tuesday, August 18, 2020
For my brothers ... from the unabashed MSD fan in the family
So, here’s that something :
Ever since he burst upon the firmament of Indian cricket Dhoni for me shone like the star he is . I have grown up in a household that was totally into cricket. Despite the fact that three of the four female members ( our mother and my two sisters ) were not into it , the other four ( father , brothers and moi) were enough and made for a formidable family of aficionados. Now I have five more guys in my family to add to that . The old man , our sons and the grandson .
I grew up when the names that shone were Richie Benaud, Bob Simpson and Bill Lawry, Peter May, Colin Cowdrey, Lance Gibbs ,Wes Hall, Gary Sobers, Salim Durrani, Budhi Kundheran , ML Jaisimha, Abbas Ali Baig and MAK Pataudi . Till Dhoni came on the scene no one else made an impact that came even close to the ones these legends had made on me . Ok Imran Khan and David Gower maybe and I must confess I pinned a scribbled note once to Shane Warne on the board in the team dressing room on a visit to the MCG in 1995.
Whereas I adored these players ( given I was a young girl then and young girls were quite given to adorin) with Dhoni it was admiration from the word Go ! His demeanour , his game , his stance , his unorthodox style ( and hair) and the aura around him elicited admiration and respect.
He exuded power ; power that came from the confidence of someone extremely comfortable in his skin . His keen and unwavering gaze , his easy smile and the sheer passion he put into his game only added to the aura . I can still remember seeing him atop the BEST bus on the post T20 World Cup win ride through the streets of Bombay . Yes , my team and I came out on the roads to watch that parade !!!
Most of all I loved and admired his leadership skills . He led by example and he made his team work for him and then he walked away from the limelight leaving his team to bask in the glow of the victories he made for them . He worked hard . To me that said it all . Nothing comes easy to anyone . He knew that and single mindedly worked towards what he wanted . For himself , his team and the country . I don’t think he ever consciously made references of having come up the hard way or from a smaller town. People made a big deal of it .
He concentrated on his game and on his team. And when the rewards came he took that as a natural outcome of his and his team’s efforts . As I put this down I realise how close this is to how I see myself as a leader of my team . Cancer care is as different from cricket as the proverbial chalk is from cheese but a leader’s responsibilities aren’t too different no matter in which field .
And talking of fields what a joy the man was to watch on the cricket ground . Fit , head held high , agile , eyes scanning every inch of the ground and the calm composure which when gave way to the occasional burst of exuberance was a delight to watch.
I don’t know when this man turned into the legend ; the icon that he eventually went on to become .
All I know is if he wasn’t playing in a particular match that game lost its charm for me and became a lacklustre one .
I can watch reruns of his games again and again . His shots , his wicket keeping , his controlled glee as he sends the ball over the stadium or whips the bails down , his behind the stumps instructions and gentle chiding to the bowler and above all the perfect control he had over himself . Unflappable, cool and dignified.
So I met the man once . And he did not disappoint . Witty and clever and ever so humble the man I was introduced to turned out to be . He heard with great attention when a common friend spoke to him about my work and we went on to have a great conversation on the perils and rewards of being in the public eye. That the common friend was Salman Khan (the occasion being the latter’s birthday) was serendipitous indeed . Two men I admire , respect and like very deeply . Two men who quietly care for those in their orbit and make no big deal of it . It is what they have to do .
Friday, November 2, 2018
Grief is selfish
I lost a very dear friend to cancer a couple of weeks ago . Even though I knew the last time I saw her would be the very last time too , I have still not been able to process this loss ...
What I wrote a few years ago comes to my mind ...
Grief
is selfish .
And
grieving for a loved one is a self serving process .
It
is all about what the loss means to you and how your life changes and all that
you will miss now that the person who meant so much to you is no longer there .
The
process of grieving is left to you to work out in all its complexities .
I
don't think one can ever get over the shock of losing a loved one . It's like a
gash on your arm that may heal (?) over a period of time with new tissues
manufactured with one's own set of coping mechanisms but the damage is done .
Your once flawless , smooth skin bears the unmistakable and indelible mark of
the trauma . It's ugly, painful and a constant reminder of the loss and
of what once was .
In
my line of work I lose people that I have grown to love and care for .
More than is good for me or for them ; or so the text books say. But what
do those these text books know . I have revelled and blossomed in the love my
patients have given me so unconditionally and I know for a fact so have they.
We live in a very special world that allows this unconditional love . For I am
no one to them . Not a lover , not a parent nor child ; not a sibling not
aunt or uncle or anything that can be defined . I am to each one of them only
what they want me to be to them . But to me they are my life , my work and my
whole world . They may know it or they may not. It makes no difference
for the love I have for them serves me in a way that helps me help them . When
they want it . And how they want it.
It
is a love that has allowed me to give and in giving there is so much joy
and such rewards .
I
call it Qualified Love . And that charmed circle is peopled with little
toddlers I held in my arms who are happy teenagers today ; teenagers whom
I have seen growing up into awesome young adults ; young adults becoming
householders and making a life with their loved ones , proud parents become
happy grandparents and then I have held the hands of many as they move on to
find meaning in their "senior years " so to say.
And
because I am no one to them in their established hierarchy of family and
friends I become , like many of my ilk ( counselors, therapists, treating
physician too) an anonymous safekeeper of many secrets , longings ,
confessions, fears and more. And I ? I am like a sponge , that very
anonymity allowing me to absorb and retain without losing my own dimensions
.
And
then comes Death to take them away for ever . Life interrupted . For
ever.
And
I am left the sole custodian of shared dreams and hopes and conversations
.
I am
asked , by many , how do I cope with the loss of my patients ? When they die ?
How do I indeed ? I honestly don't know . Each death , each loss hits me
anew.
Last
week I woke up in DC just as India had already slipped into its late evening
and found a message in WhatsApp from one of my young patients. It began as most
messages do : Amma , ( to my dying day I will never be able to comprehend the
kind of love and affection my patients have for me which makes them call me
Amma ) And then as I read the message I felt this cold hand close itself
around my heart.
The
message said , Amma , Bhaiyya nahi rahey ab.
Mother
, brother is no more.
Just
over a couple of weeks ago this young man and I had chatted over that very
WhatsApp when he had come to office and missed me and we had promised to meet
up once I was back. I simply could not accept that I was not going to be able
to do that. Not ever again . It dawned on me then how far away i was from him
and everything that connected me to him. Waking up in another country and in
another time zone whereas back home the day was almost done and the reality of
the loss final and unchangeable . Even though i was yet to live that day that
had already in another place in time , taken him away.
This
is not the first time that i have not been around when someone in my care has
died. I realise that this huge chasm between myself and a dearly loved patient
is not just caused by my physical absence separated as we are by the oceans.
That chasm exists even if I am right there in the midst of the grieving
family . For, who was I to him or to the members of the family ? Not family and
not a friend in the real sense of the word . Take away the reason for my
existence in that dear life and I ceased to exist .
This
harsh truth always prevents me from processing the loss , and therefore the
process of grieving is a complicated one. And closure ? Well nigh
impossible !
Just
as the bereaved parent or child or partner would balk at the painful process of
taking down and putting away all visible signs of the loved one I too cannot
bring myself to erase them from my mind .
The
phone numbers remain in my phone contacts . The photographs on my wall lull me
into a false sense of continuity of the relationship and I keep going to
their pages on Face Book ...as long as these signs exist I exist .
For
all that I gave them , what I got in return was immeasurable . A validation of
my worth to them ; of my love for them . Without them I cease.
What
do I do with all that I know and to whom do I share those shared confidences
that might help in the grieving process .
Respecting
Patient Confidentiality is of paramount importance and is sacrosanct in
our line of work . In many cases , not all family members or friends are even
aware of the situation . Time and time again I have caught myself
reaching out and then drawing back and keeping my overtures in check.
So
in answer to that question raised above , my grief is mine alone and I grieve
alone . I grieve for the loss of what gave meaning to my act of giving .
DC
Sunday morning 5th July : I have just edited the above and given it a spell
check and shared a few thoughts with this friend I am spending the holiday
weekend with . Mostly about the young man who has died and my anguish at being
so far away and how it anyway makes no difference for the reasons given above
.
We
are having tea and reading the morning papers . And I come across the following
in the Sunday New York Times ...
It
is as though I am listening to myself
Monday, June 5, 2017
Of Sheila , Reshma aur Shera ...a Delhi memoir of my jawaani
Of Sheila , Reshma aur Shera ...a Delhi memoir of my jawaani
56 years old today , she was very much the new heart throb on the block then , very stylish and so much the Delhi Diva. Hosted almost all the gorgeous Hollywood superstars who came to her city . We college students loved her chutzpah and were eager to be seen in her vicinity . Some of that style maybe rubbed off on us too. Not just Hollywood stars but those who later came to be known as Bollywood stars too , glowed in her glory . She changed the face of Paharganj with her svelte avatar . Her name was Sheila , and a couple of weeks ago she gracefully and quietly made her exit from the landscape of the city that for more than half a century had been her home and to which she had added so much panache and style .
Sheila , of the 70 mm screen fame, recently brought down her last curtain , and screened her last film. Like Regal had, in Connaught Place , a few weeks earlier .
Having grown up in the Delhi of the 60s , and left it in the 70s , it is unimaginable to think of the city without these landmarks . Regal , Plaza and Odeon in Connaught Place and then the lady come lately , Shiela , in Paharganj . Of course later there were other cinema houses, (couldn't give them the stately title of Theatre ) like Sapna , Archana , Priya and even Chanakya , but these grand ones were different .
And Shiela was the one that stood out , even amongst those grand ones - the modern one .
Those were the days when going to see a film was the highlight of the month . Even after joining college, a hard fought and won treat . I could never not tell Ma and go see a film . Because then after seeing it I couldn't tell her all about it right ? And that re telling and sharing was, for me , the most fun part of going to see a film . So in my home, one film a month was allowed . And so one also had to make sure it was a treat well chosen and well planned . And in those days going to see a film was such an orchestrated exercise in itself . Booking the tickets , hoping they were available of course and with the ' approved ' company / friends . Then the wait , counting the days and hours and praying no calamity would cause the plan to fall through . Like no public figure's passing that would send the city into mourning ( yes , cinemas would shut down for a week ) , no rain , no any other calamity , you know what I mean . Of course you don't , today's child . You who have Netflix on your finger tips and a multitude of multiplexes and devices at your disposal and maybe more indulgent mothers !!
Regal was where we would go to when we were very young for those very rare and occasional morning shows with parents and grandparents - Tamil and Malayalam films . Really GOOD ones or Mythologicals . And Regal was also where , as we grew a little older , we siblings would go watch films every once in a while . Anupama with my sister ( I was a little upset then that the B&W Anupama was my lot instead of the bright and colourful and more popularly promoted Milan-not now though ) Around the World in 8 Dollars with my brother ( he I am sure only accompanied me because of the West Indies Cricket segment in it ) There would also be the occasional films shown at the Sports Stadium cinema simply called The Stadium . I remember being enthralled by Cliff Richards' Summer Holiday and The Young Ones . And oh, Cantinflos' Pepe we had to forgo when Pandit Nehru passed away on the day of our show.
These were 'safe' locations .
The only two times I have been to Old Delhi to see a film was under very careful chaperoning . The first was under our English teacher Mr Katyal who took the Drama Team to see Julius Caesar in preparation for the play we were putting up that year ( 1968 , and I was Julius Caesar) . This was at Golcha and primarily to help us get our costumes and dialogue delivery right .
The second was to Delite , at Asaf Ali Road I think and dear cousin Samban it was who put my younger brother Raja behind him as pillion rider and moi into the side car of his motorcycle. And we went to watch Jawani Diwani . Oh what a ride that was, both to the theatre and in the theatre !!
No our glamorous Sheila was not a safe location for a theatre . I mean , West Kidwai Nagar to Paharganj ? No direct bus and not near the college and not even Connaught Place the farthest one could venture from home . So it took all our combined persuasive skills , mine and Chandra's to get our respective mothers' Ok girls , you can go !!!
It was a hot summer June afternoon and we had won permission for the Matinee Show at Sheila - the film , Sunil Dutt's Reshma aur Shera . I adored Sunil Dutt and Rajasthan and everything about that part of our land fascinated me and called out to the incurable romantic in me and I was in love with the songs and the ' Radio Programme' of the film on air had me enthralled . The Radio Programme was the 15 minute Radio Trailer of a film . And in those days , listening to one was almost as good as seeing the film . Almost . There would be snatches of songs and scenes / dialogues and Amin Sayani's honeyed voice enticing you to go watch the film as he built up the suspense .
Most of the time one made do with the vicarious listening. Some films you knew you would brave an arm and a leg and Ma's censure for . Reshma aur Shera was one of those and Paharganj was one mountain of an obstacle we said will scale and overcome .
And was it worth it all . What a canvas and what a production this film was . The grandeur and the scope , the casting and acting , the colours , the music , the power of the emotions - a powerful tale of love and revenge , family bonding and family feud . It had it all ! Till today I'm confounded that the film did not do well at the Box Office . But that's the Box Office . So fickle . So cruel .
The film ends with this colossal dust storm that buries along with the ill fated Reshma and Shera all their dreams and hopes , all thoughts of love and forgiveness and leaves you exposed to the bigotry and hatred that still
seems to fuel the world we live in . Till today , sadly. We got up from our seats, wet eyed and heavy hearted - a tragedy of epic dimensions had just unfolded before those eyes. And we were two shaken young girls who only wanted to get back to our safe homes , in the bosom of a loving family where no one wanted to kill and destroy each other . The film had been so very powerful .
We stepped out of Sheila and it was like we had stepped right back into the film . Anyone who has lived thorough Delhi summers ( well, I don't know about now but then , yes ) will know what a summer Dust Storm is all about and there we had one swirling all around us right there. It was Reshma aur Shera Part 2 . Fine grains of sand flew about us fanned by the ferocious winds and finding their sharp, piercing way into our tightly shut eyes , into our clenched mouths and up our nostrils . We held on tight to each other and waited for the storm to ebb a bit . It did of course but only when the heavens opened up and the cool and cleansing rain began to beat down upon us.
Rain or sand ? I guess it was rain because the sand had settled down . It was well past six in the evening and of course public transportation had taken a toss and we would have been happy to even find a camel to take us home that's how bad the scene was .
DTC was notorious those days and the even more notorious ( as we have sadly come to know about them now) private buses were not yet unleashed on the Delhi streets then and we of course had bravely taken a scooter ( autos were called scooters those days ) to get to Sheila . There was nothing on the roads whatsoever that would take us South Delhi wards now. It was raining and the usually long and bright summer evening unusually struck short and oh so dark .
I for one knew we were going to be so late home , that is, if we reached at all , and no enthusiastic and emotive retelling of the tale of the doomed Reshma and Shera was going to save me from the wrath of Ma.
We began walking. We got soaked in the first two minutes . We kept under the trees. Which was stupid because they deposited chunks of water on us from their sodden leaves every time one gust of wind shook them . Like a long haired banshee drying her tresses.
We walked past known and unknown Delhi landmarks . I remember stopping at the beautifully columned entrance of the Max Mueller Bhavan taking for a while shelter from the storm ( no I had not heard the Bob Dylan gem then , in fact not even heard of him , Heaven forgive me that trespass ) . We moved on fearing getting more delayed . Then Chandra had a brain wave . Her father was in the IFS , the Indian Foreign Service and she knew of the new Multi Storied ( as we called high rises those days in Delhi ) quarters where the External Affairs Officers were housed and she knew a family there . Like a pair of drenched sparrows we finally got there and I remember we somehow dried up as best as we could and praise the Lord , called up our homes and assured respective Moms that we were safe and well, almost dry and in respectable shelter. No cell phones then , remember ?
We eventually got home ...very late . Our mothers so relieved to have us there . I don't remember being chastised or being met with any anger . But this was one evening I will never forget . And the one film at Sheila I will always remember .
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