I met Anupam Kher at the just concluded Emirates
Literary Festival. What a man! Sitting amid the glamorous and eloquent Shobha
De and a hi-profile moderator – the Indian Consul-General Sanjay Verma – he not
only held his own, but did it with elan.
The entertainer in him couldn’t be shoved
under the microphone!
Those of you who know him, may wonder why I was
surprised? Possibly, I expected a Bollywood star… though I always believed he
is an Actor. This is after considering his body of work that includes a few
mindless craps that passed off as comedies, too. And which, he says, he will
continue doing.
He was there as the author of ‘The Best Thing
About You Is You’. Infact, he was the best thing that happened to that panel
discussion.
Consider this: At one point, when he failed
to get the right words to express himself in English, he checked with his
co-panelist Ms De. He couldn’t have given a damn for his image for seeking help
in public. He was just being himself, as he professes.
Similarly, he was all hands and feet, driving
his points home, as Ms De was perched
with poise, replying measuredly with that occasional wave of her manicured
fingers and Mr Verma sitting imposingly with one of his feet resting over his other
knee, throwing one-liners at regular intervals.
When Anupam Kher recalled how he discovered media
clippings about himself in his father’s old trunk, I heard the box creak.
When he described how he enjoyed paratha and
egg, he just stopped short of licking his fingers. Interestingly, the context
in which he said the paratha episode needs a mention. Apparently, he finds some
people on Business Class on flights ‘comical’. “They will sit beside me,
holding an Economic Times copy, ordering black tea without sugar and ignoring me
for the whole duration of the flight only to give themselves away with a daft
query at the end ‘So you are going to Delhi’?”
So, he loves being recognised and is not
ashamed to say so!
And yes, I couldn’t but notice his radiance.
A self-confessed positive person, I’m convinced he practices what he says, for
only a free spirit can command such respect and adulation with serenity in public.
Exchanging a word with anyone who wanted to
speak to him and posing patiently for pictures, he obliged all his fans at the
venue. When he accepted my book, he asked , "Where's my name?" Hesitatingly I
addressed the book to him and signed as fear gnawed my insides shouting at my audacity to surpass my
station. But even as his staff urged him to leave and the crowd was getting
more demanding, he stood still and read what I scribbled, in the worst
handwriting I’ve ever written, teaching me a lesson. Believe in what you do!
Disclaimer: [For those of you who doubt the
reason for my opinion thus]: I would have written this piece as is sans the
last interaction. I owed myself one from the day I watched his autobiographical play
‘Kuch Bhi Ho Sakta Hai’.
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