The prestigious IIT-JEE is conducted on the second Sunday of April every year. Yesterday, 12th April ’09 was my second attempt at the JEE (Oh! Don’t ask me about how the paper was; nightmares are best not revisited!). My earlier nightmare – I meant – my first JEE attempt was last year, on 13th April ’08. As I write this, I realize that exactly a year has passed since I had a chanced privilege of meeting one of my most favourite personalities in the world!
Satish Rajwade is one of the most acclaimed names of Marathi cinema today. A director par excellence, nay even more than excellent; a gem of an actor, an apt editor – Satish Rajwade has emerged; a brilliant filmmaker who makes the stalwarts proud. I become acquainted with this name through the TV show Asambhav. Every night at 8:30 PM (except for Sundays), ‘Digdarshak Satish Rajwade’ would arrive bringing with him a wave of thrills, an exclamation of awe and half an hour of pure, intelligent entertainment. I would be trapped in Asambhav’s surreal world; watching enchanted though the tilted camera frames, the somber yet contrast lighting, the clear expressions, the detailed yet subtle actions; this precision that constituted Satish Rajwade’s direction. And watching him enact Vikrant, I could have described bliss and ecstasy had words not fallen short!
Hang on – I can easily compete the Mahabharat if I continue writing about his work; I better get back to the main incidence – so, what was I saying? Oh yeah – It was the date of the great JEE 13th April, 2008! Two years worth of preparation tested during two papers of three hour duration each (This can be a little frustrating, I tell you. I mean you study like a dog for 2 to 3 years and they judge you based on your performance in only 2x3 hours; phew!) Anyway, the point is, we were finally free! (Though we had other entrance exams remaining, that evening was earned for relaxing and rejoicing!) I and my best friend Apoorvaa headed for her home in Vile Parle east straight from the exam centre. We dumped our bags and stationary on her sofa and immediately left for an evening stroll.
Now, Vile Parle east (or simply Parle, as it is more commonly called by its inhabitants) is a quaint little “village”. And I am saying so because, like a village, it is sleepy and has a minuscule population due to which it appears as if all Parlekars know each other and the probability of bumping into any known 'Parlekar' is very high. Anyone who has been brought up in Parla simply loves walking through its maze of lanes and by-lanes and I am no exception. So basically, I want to convey that I and Apoorvaa were enjoying a lazy, lengthy evening stroll when all of a sudden, Apoorvaa gave me a mighty push in the opposite direction and said “Jaa. Lavkar jaa.”
The human mind is the fastest computer in existence. In the next fraction of a second, my brain seeked answers to my best friend’s hitherto-unseen, strange action. It searched for probable explanations for anybody or anything she might have encountered which or whom I would like to see and found one most likely answer. Simultaneously, it registered the surroundings where we were standing, requested for a match and received one – on Prarthana Samaj Road, diagonally opposite to Satish Rajwade’s house.
“Kuthe disat aahet tula Satish Sir?” I asked Apoorvaa, looking around at the same time. In answer, she mutely pointed in the opposite direction. I turned to see a man walking along with a small boy a few steps away from me. Even with his back turned, there was no mistaking him. I, Satish Rajwade’s greatest fan, was seeing him in person for the first time!
Now it was my turn to make Apoorvaa almost lose her balance as I pulled her after me. “Chal. Lavkar chal.” I urged. Quietly, we trailed Satish Rajwade who was walking ahead with his kid son. “Damn! I forgot the autograph book in my bag in your house!” I exclaimed, slapping my hand on my forehead. Believe me or not, I used to always carry an autograph book with me with the sole hope that I might, just in case, get to meet Satish Rajwade anywhere in Parla. (There are only 3 people on this earth whose autographs I have longed for – Dr. Abdul Kalam, Sachin Tendulkar and Satish Rajwade). On that exam day too, I had perfectly remembered (more out of a habit) to take that autograph book along with me. But now, when my favourite film-maker was trotting a few paces ahead of me, it was most conveniently lying in my bag on Apoorvaa’s couch and I was cursing myself for it! “Its okay” I consoled myself, “If not the autograph, I can at least go and talk to him and tell him how much I admire him.” I had started scrapping Satish Sir on Orkut since the past month and half. I had written to him describing how much I idolized him. But meeting him in person and telling it would be another honour in itself.
As luck would have it, a few steps later, near the market, Satish Rajwade marched his son into a men’s salon. We waited on the opposite side of the road, debating. If he had gone to get a haircut for himself or his son, it would surely take minimum 10 minutes, if not more, we reasoned. It was time enough to buy a new autograph book in the market. Thankfully, Parla’s most famous stationary shop, The Jawahar Book Depot, was not far away and we ran to it. After frantically rejecting a number of notepads, diaries, slam books and dull plain autograph books, I finally found a good design. I also bought a good pen and then we hurried back and again stood waiting.
“Ey Apoorvaa, ti autograph book tu pudhe kar. Tula mahiti aahe ki mi patkan bolu nahi shaknaar.” I requested my friend. “Aga pan tujhi autograph book aahe, majhi nahi. Autograph tula havay. So tu maag.” She protested. (Apoorvaa is a Satish Rajwade admirer too, but not as much as me; she happens to be a big Shahrukh fan instead.) “Nahi. Apoorvaa, please agodar tu majhyasathi autograph maag. Mag mi bolen tyanchyashi.” And before I could decide on what I was going to say to the person whom I admire and respect so much, the door of the salon re-opened and Satish Rajwade came out with his young son (for all those interested - it was the son who had had a haircut.)
He crossed the road and I waited with bated breath as he approached.
“Umm.. Could we have your autograph please?” Apoorvaa held up the book while I peeped from behind her back.
“Yeah. Sure.” He obliged us, smiling.
Before he took the autograph book and the pen, he took care to make his son stand safely on the footpath while explaining to him "Hya 2 tai aahet na, tyanchyashi boluya. Tu ithe 2 minta ubha raha." I chanced a glance at the kid. I tell you, Ranveer Rajwade would be one of the sweetest and most innocent looking children I've ever seen.
"Naav kay?" Satish Rajwade asked Apoorvaa; instead of just signing his name like many others do, he wanted to personalize it by writing down his fan's name.
"Ruchi" I and Apoorvaa replied in chorus, with Apoorvaa glancing back and pointing towards me.
"Nahi. Ticha nahi. Tuza naav kay?" he asked Apoorvaa. Clearly, he felt that since Apoorvaa had offered the book, it must belong to her.
"Ti majhi autograph book aahe!" I said, almost indignantly.
"Oh okay, Ruchi." he smiled.
My indignant outburst and Satish Rajwade's humility made me shed my apprehensions. I took a step forward and spoke earnestly, "Sir, mi tumchi khup mothi fan aahe."
"Thank you.", he smiled back.
"Umm... Sir, tumcha Orkut var ek fan club aahe na?", I asked.
"Ho aahe." he replied, signing the book.
"Sir, to mi chalu kela aahe."
"Oh! Tu chalu kela aahes hoy!". I felt proud to see him flash his genuine, wide smile at this relevation.
"Ruchi, tu Parlyat rahates ka?", he asked me further. Now, I am not sure, but I am guessing that he remembered my scrap to him about 3 weeks before asking whether he was from Parle Tilak Vidyalaya school or Madhav Rao Bhagwat school since he was a Parlekar and this might have prompted him to ask this question. If it is indeed so, then really, hats off to him for remembering one tiny scrap from a one of his countless fans.
"Actually Sir, mi Parlyat nahi Andherit rahate. But you can say mi Parlyat jagte. Majhi shala, college, classes, friends, relatives - sagla Parlyat-ch aahe. Mi generally Parlyat-ch padik aste. Tyamule mi half-Parlekar aahe. Fakta ithe rahat nahi." I answered back timidly.
"Oh, alright!". Still smiling in a very genuine way, he handed the autograph book and the pen back to me.
"So Ruchi... it was really very nice meeting you", he added, shaking my hand!
"It was nothing short of a great honour meeting you, Sir." It was hard to keep away the happiness in my voice.
"Thank you so much, Ruchi. Be in touch."
"Yes, Sir. Thanks a lot!", I gushed as he caught hold of his son's tiny hand and walked away to his home.
I glanced at the autograph in my hand. He had written "To RUCHI" and had underneath signed his name. I was ecstatic on noting one obvious similarity in the way Sir and I signed our names. Both of us write the first letters of our names and surnames in Devnagri script followed by English alphabets.
I went home and recounted my experience to whoever who (whether or not they wanted to) would listen - to my parents, Apoorvaa's parents, my friends, my South Indian neighbour (even though she had not heard of Satish Rajwade), my Orkut friends, my cousins etc.!
Now, a year has passed since I first met Satish Sir. Back then, he did not know me. Over these months, he has come to recognise the name Ruchi More! The next time I meet him, I don't think I'll have to tell him that I am the owner of his fan club when I introduce myself! There was something different about meeting him in person. I mean, I might have been be impressed by the way he carries himself on screen but it was nothing compared to what I felt when he stood before me. There is an air of confidence and the essence of humility about him which struck me more than usual. Yes, I was a fan even before I met him. Yes, I admired him enough to open his fan club even before that evening. But somehow, this chance encounter with him made me admire him even more. I cannot put a finger to exactly what makes me say this; I cannot describe it. But somehow, that evening, my respect for him increased multifold. There would be nothing better that getting the honour of interacting with my inspiration at least once again in this lifetime!
That book with Satish Sir's autograph in it is one of my most treasured possessions! It's something which I am going to cherish for the lifetime. Till date, even the pen with which Sir had signed the book has been kept preciously along with the autograph!
Satish Rajwade is one of the most acclaimed names of Marathi cinema today. A director par excellence, nay even more than excellent; a gem of an actor, an apt editor – Satish Rajwade has emerged; a brilliant filmmaker who makes the stalwarts proud. I become acquainted with this name through the TV show Asambhav. Every night at 8:30 PM (except for Sundays), ‘Digdarshak Satish Rajwade’ would arrive bringing with him a wave of thrills, an exclamation of awe and half an hour of pure, intelligent entertainment. I would be trapped in Asambhav’s surreal world; watching enchanted though the tilted camera frames, the somber yet contrast lighting, the clear expressions, the detailed yet subtle actions; this precision that constituted Satish Rajwade’s direction. And watching him enact Vikrant, I could have described bliss and ecstasy had words not fallen short!
Hang on – I can easily compete the Mahabharat if I continue writing about his work; I better get back to the main incidence – so, what was I saying? Oh yeah – It was the date of the great JEE 13th April, 2008! Two years worth of preparation tested during two papers of three hour duration each (This can be a little frustrating, I tell you. I mean you study like a dog for 2 to 3 years and they judge you based on your performance in only 2x3 hours; phew!) Anyway, the point is, we were finally free! (Though we had other entrance exams remaining, that evening was earned for relaxing and rejoicing!) I and my best friend Apoorvaa headed for her home in Vile Parle east straight from the exam centre. We dumped our bags and stationary on her sofa and immediately left for an evening stroll.
Now, Vile Parle east (or simply Parle, as it is more commonly called by its inhabitants) is a quaint little “village”. And I am saying so because, like a village, it is sleepy and has a minuscule population due to which it appears as if all Parlekars know each other and the probability of bumping into any known 'Parlekar' is very high. Anyone who has been brought up in Parla simply loves walking through its maze of lanes and by-lanes and I am no exception. So basically, I want to convey that I and Apoorvaa were enjoying a lazy, lengthy evening stroll when all of a sudden, Apoorvaa gave me a mighty push in the opposite direction and said “Jaa. Lavkar jaa.”
The human mind is the fastest computer in existence. In the next fraction of a second, my brain seeked answers to my best friend’s hitherto-unseen, strange action. It searched for probable explanations for anybody or anything she might have encountered which or whom I would like to see and found one most likely answer. Simultaneously, it registered the surroundings where we were standing, requested for a match and received one – on Prarthana Samaj Road, diagonally opposite to Satish Rajwade’s house.
“Kuthe disat aahet tula Satish Sir?” I asked Apoorvaa, looking around at the same time. In answer, she mutely pointed in the opposite direction. I turned to see a man walking along with a small boy a few steps away from me. Even with his back turned, there was no mistaking him. I, Satish Rajwade’s greatest fan, was seeing him in person for the first time!
Now it was my turn to make Apoorvaa almost lose her balance as I pulled her after me. “Chal. Lavkar chal.” I urged. Quietly, we trailed Satish Rajwade who was walking ahead with his kid son. “Damn! I forgot the autograph book in my bag in your house!” I exclaimed, slapping my hand on my forehead. Believe me or not, I used to always carry an autograph book with me with the sole hope that I might, just in case, get to meet Satish Rajwade anywhere in Parla. (There are only 3 people on this earth whose autographs I have longed for – Dr. Abdul Kalam, Sachin Tendulkar and Satish Rajwade). On that exam day too, I had perfectly remembered (more out of a habit) to take that autograph book along with me. But now, when my favourite film-maker was trotting a few paces ahead of me, it was most conveniently lying in my bag on Apoorvaa’s couch and I was cursing myself for it! “Its okay” I consoled myself, “If not the autograph, I can at least go and talk to him and tell him how much I admire him.” I had started scrapping Satish Sir on Orkut since the past month and half. I had written to him describing how much I idolized him. But meeting him in person and telling it would be another honour in itself.
As luck would have it, a few steps later, near the market, Satish Rajwade marched his son into a men’s salon. We waited on the opposite side of the road, debating. If he had gone to get a haircut for himself or his son, it would surely take minimum 10 minutes, if not more, we reasoned. It was time enough to buy a new autograph book in the market. Thankfully, Parla’s most famous stationary shop, The Jawahar Book Depot, was not far away and we ran to it. After frantically rejecting a number of notepads, diaries, slam books and dull plain autograph books, I finally found a good design. I also bought a good pen and then we hurried back and again stood waiting.
“Ey Apoorvaa, ti autograph book tu pudhe kar. Tula mahiti aahe ki mi patkan bolu nahi shaknaar.” I requested my friend. “Aga pan tujhi autograph book aahe, majhi nahi. Autograph tula havay. So tu maag.” She protested. (Apoorvaa is a Satish Rajwade admirer too, but not as much as me; she happens to be a big Shahrukh fan instead.) “Nahi. Apoorvaa, please agodar tu majhyasathi autograph maag. Mag mi bolen tyanchyashi.” And before I could decide on what I was going to say to the person whom I admire and respect so much, the door of the salon re-opened and Satish Rajwade came out with his young son (for all those interested - it was the son who had had a haircut.)
He crossed the road and I waited with bated breath as he approached.
“Umm.. Could we have your autograph please?” Apoorvaa held up the book while I peeped from behind her back.
“Yeah. Sure.” He obliged us, smiling.
Before he took the autograph book and the pen, he took care to make his son stand safely on the footpath while explaining to him "Hya 2 tai aahet na, tyanchyashi boluya. Tu ithe 2 minta ubha raha." I chanced a glance at the kid. I tell you, Ranveer Rajwade would be one of the sweetest and most innocent looking children I've ever seen.
"Naav kay?" Satish Rajwade asked Apoorvaa; instead of just signing his name like many others do, he wanted to personalize it by writing down his fan's name.
"Ruchi" I and Apoorvaa replied in chorus, with Apoorvaa glancing back and pointing towards me.
"Nahi. Ticha nahi. Tuza naav kay?" he asked Apoorvaa. Clearly, he felt that since Apoorvaa had offered the book, it must belong to her.
"Ti majhi autograph book aahe!" I said, almost indignantly.
"Oh okay, Ruchi." he smiled.
My indignant outburst and Satish Rajwade's humility made me shed my apprehensions. I took a step forward and spoke earnestly, "Sir, mi tumchi khup mothi fan aahe."
"Thank you.", he smiled back.
"Umm... Sir, tumcha Orkut var ek fan club aahe na?", I asked.
"Ho aahe." he replied, signing the book.
"Sir, to mi chalu kela aahe."
"Oh! Tu chalu kela aahes hoy!". I felt proud to see him flash his genuine, wide smile at this relevation.
"Ruchi, tu Parlyat rahates ka?", he asked me further. Now, I am not sure, but I am guessing that he remembered my scrap to him about 3 weeks before asking whether he was from Parle Tilak Vidyalaya school or Madhav Rao Bhagwat school since he was a Parlekar and this might have prompted him to ask this question. If it is indeed so, then really, hats off to him for remembering one tiny scrap from a one of his countless fans.
"Actually Sir, mi Parlyat nahi Andherit rahate. But you can say mi Parlyat jagte. Majhi shala, college, classes, friends, relatives - sagla Parlyat-ch aahe. Mi generally Parlyat-ch padik aste. Tyamule mi half-Parlekar aahe. Fakta ithe rahat nahi." I answered back timidly.
"Oh, alright!". Still smiling in a very genuine way, he handed the autograph book and the pen back to me.
"So Ruchi... it was really very nice meeting you", he added, shaking my hand!
"It was nothing short of a great honour meeting you, Sir." It was hard to keep away the happiness in my voice.
"Thank you so much, Ruchi. Be in touch."
"Yes, Sir. Thanks a lot!", I gushed as he caught hold of his son's tiny hand and walked away to his home.
I glanced at the autograph in my hand. He had written "To RUCHI" and had underneath signed his name. I was ecstatic on noting one obvious similarity in the way Sir and I signed our names. Both of us write the first letters of our names and surnames in Devnagri script followed by English alphabets.
I went home and recounted my experience to whoever who (whether or not they wanted to) would listen - to my parents, Apoorvaa's parents, my friends, my South Indian neighbour (even though she had not heard of Satish Rajwade), my Orkut friends, my cousins etc.!
Now, a year has passed since I first met Satish Sir. Back then, he did not know me. Over these months, he has come to recognise the name Ruchi More! The next time I meet him, I don't think I'll have to tell him that I am the owner of his fan club when I introduce myself! There was something different about meeting him in person. I mean, I might have been be impressed by the way he carries himself on screen but it was nothing compared to what I felt when he stood before me. There is an air of confidence and the essence of humility about him which struck me more than usual. Yes, I was a fan even before I met him. Yes, I admired him enough to open his fan club even before that evening. But somehow, this chance encounter with him made me admire him even more. I cannot put a finger to exactly what makes me say this; I cannot describe it. But somehow, that evening, my respect for him increased multifold. There would be nothing better that getting the honour of interacting with my inspiration at least once again in this lifetime!
That book with Satish Sir's autograph in it is one of my most treasured possessions! It's something which I am going to cherish for the lifetime. Till date, even the pen with which Sir had signed the book has been kept preciously along with the autograph!
