I glide through the courtrooms these days, hoping to see a glimpse of Bhai... I have not seen him since that fateful day, and seeing Bhai in flesh and blood will make me feel whole again. There is an emptiness that seems to pull me back to this world and prevent me from leaving it behind... I cant put my finger on it. Else, I should have moved on years ago.. But my spirit wanders these court corridors, as it has been wandering for the passt thirteen years.. I can also wander through the graveyard only a few kilometres away, but that seems to be the end of my powers.. So I have been floating in and out of this courtroom ,hoping to see Bhai for one last time..
I have been a fan of Bhai since the time I can remember. He was my hero, my icon, my sole purpose of existence. He had been acting in films ever since my school days, since I remember seeing his films three times when I was in the fifth standard before I dropped out. He was young then, with long hair and a slim body which girls would croon over and guys will try hard to achieve, although with limited luck.
I remember walking ten kilometres just to catch a glimpse of the poster of Bhais new film, which usually ran for months in the Hira theatre in the nearby village. Although dated, these films gave us glimpses of Bhais life, his adventures, trials and tribulations. Bhai could sing, dance, fight, croon, emote and much more with seamless ease. I had to wait three, sometimes four weeks since the film came to the theater to get a ticket, and even then it would be a corner seat near the entrance where you could smell the toilet.. But I didn't mind. It was, after all, Bhai ka picture!!
I remember stealing from my dads pocket for the first time when Bhais 20 th film was released, a super hit love story where he romanced Madhuri Dixit. I didn't care if the movie had no fight scenes or action. I didn't care about the beatings I got later with my dads whip ,which he used on the bullocks working in the fields, when he found out I had stolen from him. I didn't care that my legs hurt after I ran ten kilometres to make it to the theatre on time.. It was all for Bhai ka picture...
I got Bhais photo from a colour newspaper that I had nicked from the barber shop. It was a full face shot with his latest blockbuster title written underneath it. I cut out the title, got the photo laminated from the studio in the town, and kept it in my pocket. I looked at the photo whenever I felt down and dejected. Bhai stared back at me, with a fiery expression and courage in his eyes.. That gave me strength to move on.
I ran out of my home at the age of sixteen, after a particularly bad beating I had received from my drunk father for not working in the fields . I had sneaked into Hira theater that day to catch Bhais movie for the third time with my friends. I got back, and dad was waiting with the whip again. I took my beating, went into the shackle late at night, took all the money from my dads cloth bag (approx. 200 Rupees), touched my mothers feet and bid adieu to my village in the middle of the night. I walked the fifteen kilometres to the railway station in the middle of the night, and caught the only train all the way to the city of my dreams. The city where stars are born and small town people like me got a shot at the big league. It was the city where Bhai lived and worked, and there was nowhere else on earth I would rather be.
I have lived in this city for twelve years now, and I don't regret a single moment of it. The day I came here, I made it straight to Bhais house, an address I had memorized at the age of thirteen. There , I stood, along with a few others, hoping to catch a glimpse of Bhai . But the security guys shooed us away telling that Bhai was away on a shoot. I have visited the house countless times since, and have even managed to catch a glimpse of Bhai a couple of times as he stepped out of the house to wave at us fans.
I worked at a Bakery where I did everything from stirring the dough to cleaning the front viewing glass. The owner was a kind old Parsi, a stingy fellow who was good at heart and treated us with respect. We bakery boys didnt make much money, so we usually slept on the footpath to save money, so that that we could send some home. I saved it up to see Bhais films, which had reduced over the years as Bollywood made way to younger stars. None of these new Star Children had charisma even close to Bhai, so I gave all others movies a miss. But Bhais films , they were always seen first day first show.
My Parsi boss knew my passion , so he gave me a leave months in advance and even read out the names of the theatres where the movie was playing. I had made friends with the security guard of a theatre closeby, so getting tickets on the first day was not an issue. I would watch the movie, see Bhai sing, dance and fight like the old days, and whistle with the others after a good dialogue. Life was beautiful, until that fateful day in September.
It was unusually hot that day when we boys decided to sleep on the pavement in front of the bakery. I had seen Bhais film just a few weeks before and was humming a tune from it as I went to sleep, and that was the last thing I remember doing. I woke up later in the night when I heard a crash and screams, but I couldnt get up since I couldnt feel my legs. My chest felt heavy, as though a hammer had hit it, hard. I looked to my left and saw four of my friends writhing in pain.
I was sleeping closest to the road, but surprisingly, I felt no pain. I was losing consciousness, and my eyes were slowly losing focus. I looked at the car that had crashed into the wall behind us, smoke coming out of its front end. People were getting out of the car, runnning helter skelter. I saw the driver get out, and walk towards us, unsteady. He was wearing a cap and dark glasses, but there was something familiar about his face. It couldnt be.. Bhai.. Was this a dream? Or something that people see moments before they die? Was he the angel who was going to whisk me away? He stared at me, screamed and looked around,. Then someone tugged at him from behind, and he started running away. I had enough strength in my hands to reach into my shirt pocket, where I kept the old photo of Bhai.. I looked at Bhais strong eyes, as my vision faded out, and then I just died..
Today, I am floating outside the courtroom, where a judge will decide of Bhai really ran over me that night. It was a big deal in the country and there were people from the media, police and the general public thronging the court gates. After a couple of hours, I see Bhai walk out, with tears in his eyes. I fear Bhai is served with a jail sentence but I soon overhear his lawyers telling the media that he is free of all charges!! I feel a sigh of relief , knowing that I was partly responsible for the tears of happiness in my Bhais eyes. I feel tears in my own eyes, knowing that I might have to wander the graveyard for a long time to come.....
