I have been religiously watching KBC ever since i can remember. No, I don’t know the process of making black tea or who was Draupadi’s grandfather’s father’s sister’s brother or whether hydrogen sulphide smells like rotten eggs or in which order did Ram meet whoever he met in his lifetime.
I wonder if someday they’ll have a question around me, like, how tall is Miss Meanie Meanerson? or, What does Miss Meanie Meanerson have for breakfast?
I watch it only for Mr. Bachchan.
It’s baffling how these contestants talk so much in his presence. If I ever were to meet him, I would first faint (in his arms), then regain consciousness (in his arms), then gather the courage to look directly at him. And, if I ever sat on the “hot seat”, I think I would need four options to get my own name straight, let alone winning some money.
The first time I saw him on television, he was dancing around with a mug full of froth in a garage like place trying to woo a certain Miss Jumma. It was a cheesy song (I still love it), and I was smitten.
We are a family of Bachchan fans, so when Sholay re-released, Ma took us to the theatre (we had to be initiated into the cult). That was the second movie I had watched in a theater, I don’t remember the first. Sholay left me shattered for a long time. I had seen Jai die. I had cried along with Veeru. I wanted to shoot Thakur point blank (I wonder why he didn’t get those fake hands; we all saw his tijori overflowing with cash) and throw Basanti off a cliff for prancing around on her horse-cart and getting everyone in trouble.
Jai’s death moved me so much that after leaving the theatre I asked my mother if he was really dead. I was only 7 or 8, so it was absolutely normal for me to nag my father to get the “Sholay wali bike” (it would have been economical) and it was more than okay for him to decline.
I’ve grown up since then (hopefully). Of course, I still want that glowing jacket he wore in Yaarana, the 786 badge from Deewar, and most importantly “Sholay wali bike” (someday maybe).
While I was in a fan girl mode writing this post, the most bizzare thing happened. I got a call, “Ji ha main Amitabh Bachchan…”
For a fraction of a second all I could utter was, “Happy Birthday, love”.
I didn’t care two hoots about going shopping on an ecomm website.
Pic: Google, obviously.