Fast Lane Famous

Heta Pandit waxes satirical about sweat-soaked black notes, movie-music madness and Bollywood heartthrob Hrithik Roshan as she turns a corner at one of her own personal milestones.

Kaho na pyaar hai... hahn tumse pyaar hai... Hahn, am Hritik. Hritik, who_ Yea, the guy who had had it made even before he had stepped on to the bandwagon. I mean, Baba had said long before I had learnt to count (one two on your toe) that he’d put me on the bus. I remember his first words to me. “You’re going to love the crowds. Enjoy!” Crowds! Nothing could have prepared me for this! Aila aila rey ladki mast mast hai... dekhke usko ai dil dola rey... phir se bol zara tu kya bola rey... Did Baba know what he was talking about then_ In his days I bet it was a few ladies with flowers in their hair (jeweled ornaments on a Sunday) who simpered if he as much as held out a hand. Bet you that was as far as he ever got. Perhaps a peek behind the curtain once in a while (but I don’t think they minded as much). Na hira na moti chahu... na sona na chandi chahu... mein to tera dilka khilona chahu rey.

My Baba’s eyes. “They used to kill to look straight into my eyes,” he had said once. But Baba moves with the times, thank God. Devastating eyes don’t get you very far these days. And buck teeth even less further. Especially in the fast lane. Dupattey ka pallu kidhar ka kidhar hai... jawani ka jadu bada bequadar hai... Yea, I’m here to stay. Get contacts. Make eyes. Stay at the top. “I don’t like them. Your new contacts. Some of them are coloured.” But life isn’t black-and-white anymore, is it_ I mean, in Baba’s days, they probably told him not to lose his shirt. Boss burra maan jayenge. And I_ I have to spend hours in front of the mirror practising at losing my shirt! Go ahead. Drive them mad. Open at the collar (throw Adam’s Apple out of line)... open at the collar-bone (one side jutting) ... open at the neck (naah! too over-the-top)... open at the shoulders (hey... the mothers have to take it too)... Actually, it’s the tight tee-shirts that look the best. Small sweat-patch artistically placed just below the hair-line. And I’m dressed.

They say I’m too heavy at the top. Well, why shouldn’t I be_ I like a good tuck-in, yaar. Especially my own mother’s cooking. “Legs like two sticks of cigarettes.” Hell, I dance to make a living, damnit. Know what it’s like_ Those dance steps (especially when the floor’s moving constantly)_ Step-up, breathe in... step-down, breathe out, smile, (purse your lips, they mustn’t see that idiotic grin), right hand on the rails, left hand out, turn, turn, turn, whistle at the stop. The ‘take’ over. Not a word of thanks. Don’t look up now. Back again. Collect. Collect. Collect. Spread arms like you want to embrace the whole lot. Then bring arm in. Yes! It’s called acting. Get the fat lady in. See the basket with the papayas in_ Imli ka boota... ber ka ped... imli khatti... meethey ber... chal ghar jaldi ho gayi der... A beehive of tamarind on your knees. Bend. Bend. Bend. Pretend the chickens are pecking at your toes. Up. Up. Up. On your toes, man. Bend your knees. Bend! Up! Bend! Down! Jab sey dekha tujhko ai jadugar haseen. “This time, get it right, arrey Hritya. My radiator’s bubbling, man. Usko thanda kar, rey Ritya. We haven’t got all day... now!”

Push-ups, push-ins, push-down, push-to-win. They must not see me wince. They must not see me grin. Bad image, good image, blurring image, touchable image, larger-than-life image, 70 mm image. Look up. Look down. Look sideways and down. Kiss air. There’s no one else.

Forget the shape of my legs. Watch me weave my way through. If you were on this bus you’d see how hard I work at this thing. Toe-in, toe out, stomach-in, stomach-out, stretch arm out, pull arm in, touch pocket, pull notes out, rearrange notes, tuck thumb in, pull thumb out, use the extra thumb to advantage when the scene demands it. Ah, that extra thumb! Not many people notice it. I’ve been using it to my advantage ever since I was little. The girls in the neighbourhood used to freak over that ‘double thumb’. “Hold this paper down for us, Hritu!” “Push the extra thumb into your pant pocket, Hrits, let the other one stick out!” Really, some women get a kick out of... well, anything. Even a guy with three thumbs.

That’s why when they suggested an operation I said, “Nothing doing. Even if it’s not going to cost a bomb... (but you’ll never play at cops and robbers, said Mom, not with that extra thumb) even if it’s a free offer from a municipal hospital... even if you pay me to have it done... I’m not going to get rid of my lucky third thumb”. Now they snigger when I flash my teeth (too flat, too straight, too third-rate) but that thumb gets me The Look. Oh, Shibani. Arey oh Shibani. Take the Three Girls who’re always in the first row, for example. Skimpy tops, halter necks, tight spandax tee-shirts in Barbie Doll pinks. They shut their eyes to the real world when I dance. Khali haath aye hain, khali haath jayenge. I mean, have they even had a taste of life yet_ Look up, ladies. It costs next to nothing, really. Stop snapping those stardust-laden fingernails. Dig in. Ankhion se goli maarey, ladki kamaal ki... ankhiyon se goli maarey...tissue tissue tissue... It’s a good thing Baba is not doing the rounds these days. Not with songs like that around.

I mean, just listen to this... tuney jo liya mera chumma to Patna mein aag lag gayi. And the next line_ Tuney jo uthaya ghungta to Mumbai mein bomb phut gayi. If they made me do that route I’d take the next bus back to town. Where do they write this stuff_ In the loo_ By the side of the railway tracks before the sun comes out_ No wonder they say Baba is a man of good taste. He and I watch the old classics together sometimes. (He used to wear hair when he was younger. Old habits die hard. I’ve never seen him run his fingers over his bald pate.) Suhana safar aur yeh mausam haseen...  What a difference in the entertainment between two generations! Main to gaadi mein ja raha tha, seeti baja raha tha, mujhko dhakka laga to main kya karoon...  “But then, Baba” I said the other day, “don’t forget! You used to get paid in loose change in those days... and one trip from Mapusa to Panjim took half a day!” “Yes, son, that’s why I’m going to make certain that you stay in that fast lane.”