Brief encounters, abiding memories

Sandeep Sinha

Chance encounters sometimes leave abiding memories. The first of these relates to actor Vinod Khanna who was recently awarded the prestigious Dada Saheb Phalke Award for his contribution to the Indian cinema. While I personally regard the conferring of film awards after death on actors, idolized by the masses in their life, as futile, and think as degrading the sight of them being taken in wheelchairs to receive them, I was happy for Vinod Khanna.

Some years ago, I had confessed to my colleague and friend Ravi Dhaliwal my admiration for the handsome film star, when he got transferred from Muktsar to Gurdaspur, the constituency from where the actor was elected to the Lok Sabha.

Time passed. After my arrival in Chandigarh, one day at 7 in the morning, I got a call from Ravi Dhaliwal. Groggy from sleep, I picked up the phone. “Vinod Khanna saheb baat karenge,” he said. I jumped out of bed, unprepared for this at so early an hour. Even as Vinod Khanna said “Hello”, I managed to utter some mumbo-jumbo, but quickly regained my composure and proceeded to tell him like an unabashed fan how big an admirer I was of his works. Finally, I told him that I had liked best his dialogue in the film Khoon-Paseena, uttered as it was with trademark machismo, “Shera itni jaldi marne wala nahin.”

After we hung up, Ravi called up again later. “Aapne Khanna sahib ko kya keh diya,” he asked. Worried I might have hurt the actor, I asked what had happened. “Khanna sahib bahut khush hain. Aapko Gurdaspur bulaya hai. Bola hai unko lekar aao,” he said.

Alas, it was an invitation never to be taken up, my pride in Shera’s invincibility felled by the cruel hands of mortality. So, when the award was conferred on the actor, I was happy his acting skills had been recognised.

The second encounter relates to eminent journalist Surinder Nihal Singh. Living in a Bengali neighbourhood, I grew up reading the Calcutta edition of The Statesman, edited by him. It was the first newspaper I laid my hands on. My father would take great pride in describing the paper as “anti-establishment”. The pride people took in the paper in those days was on display when a Bengali neighbour picked up a fight with someone, seeing him reading the paper at a tea stall. It was not the place where you read a paper like The Statesman, he told the offender.

My memory of that paper, then edited by S Nihal Singh, was of a different kind. It was the newspaper from which I first learned that difficult word, “gubernatorial.” It was also the paper where I read that brilliant description by Kishore Bhimani of Sunil Gavaskar’s majestic innings of 221 at The Oval and in its supplement on Independence Day, the English translation of Faiz Ahmed Faiz’s timeless poetry, “Yeh daag ujala, yeh sabgazida seher…”

Childhood memories are indeed compelling and I found myself heading for Panjab University when S Nihal Singh was slated to speak there some time back. Of all things, what I remember most is that in the question-answer session, he was accused rather belligerently by a journalist of being harsh towards the BJP and favouring the Congress.

With tremendous poise, S Nihal Singh pointed out that he was one Editor who had stood steadfast against the Emergency imposed by Indira Gandhi. He opposed the BJP not as a political party, but because he thought that of all growth models, he regarded the Nehruvian model as the best, as it was inclusive, and that the country had failed to develop any viable alternative to it.

The only question that I could ask him was on what he thought of Nitish Kumar’s chances as the Prime Minister. With a twinkle in his eyes and with characteristic understatement, he said, “Well, I do think he still has some way to go.”

Two interactions in less than two years, two lives snatched away by the inevitable march of destiny, but nevertheless leaving one with a treasure-trove of memories.

‘Nehruvian model best as it was inclusive in nature’

S Nihal Singh pointed out that he was one Editor who had stood steadfast against the Emergency imposed by Indira Gandhi. He opposed the BJP not as a political party, 

but because he thought that of all the growth models, he regarded the Nehruvian model as the best, as it was inclusive, and that the country had failed to develop any viable alternative to it so far.