First Day Last Show

 

“We cannot dare miss the ‘First day first show” announced Rana enthusiastically.

It was a much awaited movie. Starring the intense Sanjay Dutt and the heart-throb Salman Khan. Did I miss mentioning the effervescent Madhuri Dixit. All the more a love story, a romantic triangle.

As was the practice then and I guess still is, the music was released beforehand, and we had listened to the songs countless times in the humble tape recorder, flipping the side of the cassette every few minutes till the play-ability of the reel was lost but not before each word of the lyrics planted firmly in our memory.

“But we have promised to fast on this Krishna Janmashtami and Saajan releases on that day” objected Rajesh concernedly.

“That’s the best coincidence, it will be a holiday, so we can go and watch Saajan without missing our classes” chirped Ajay adjusting his glasses with a grin and a twinkle in his eyes.

Ajay had hairs like the spines of porcupines and washed them with “Rin soap”. Fellow hostelers never missed to chant “Ek hi ghisai main de bharpur safedi” when he went to bathe. But being a plain and simple guy he never knew why they did so. Anyways, let’s go back to Saajan.

Then in Class Eleven, just freed from the tangle of ever watchful eyes of parents, teachers and neighbours, we were living in a hostel in Ranchi. Going out for movies had become considerably easier, though the cost of ticket had to be raised by squeezing the barely sufficient pocket money. The choices of movies were solely ours unlike while under the shield of parents. Then in school, till a year ago from the Saajan saga, going for a movie was determined by an extra layer of certification and filtration by dad over and above the film certification board. Romantic and action films were out rightly rejected leaving the ones like Avtaar, Khudgarz etc woven with social messages for our viewing. Only ‘Sholay’ being an exception.

The eagerly awaited day arrived, the day when Saajan got released, coinciding Krishna Janmashtami. We left for the theatre in our bicycles with empty stomach and heart filled desire to watch ‘First day first show’. FDFS was an effort of expressing our support and appreciation, in our own little way, to the noble work of making such a sensational movie. Being the first to soak the pleasure of such a showmanship was another apt reason. We peddled hard fearing that everyone on the street was competing with us for FDFS. On reaching the holy shrine –the theatre, to our utter shock, we found it teeming with people; approaching the ticket counter was out of question. Policemen stood everywhere ready to lash their ‘lathis’ to the unruly enthusiasts. We felt so small, so insignificant in the mayhem of daring devotees. We stood timidly in a safe distance, away from the melee, waiting for an opportune time. We waited and waited but the crowd kept swelling.

“Bees ka Sau…bees ka sau” murmured few guys carrying bunch of tickets and money peeping out of their bulging pockets. It was a roaring business in the black market. The going rate was whooping five times the cost and absolutely beyond our reach. The men in ‘Khaki’ focused elsewhere whipping someone here someone there but stayed away from the ‘handkerchief wrapped around neck’ guys as if they didn’t exist.

The ‘Blackiers’ as they were said, have become almost extinct now except for being spotted sporadically in smaller towns and in single screen theatres. The modern day theatres now officially gulp the black market share through ‘surge price’ when the demand goes up.

Finally after several hours of gut-wrenching wait we could figure out that the last show- night show was a feeble possibility. But, there was a bigger challenge.

We were not allowed to stay away from the hostel beyond 8 PM, the gates were locked sharp at 8 and only way in was by jumping the wall which was reasonable high. There were few daredevils who had crossed the stronghold but it was beyond our imagination to pursue such endeavor. The risk of inviting grievous injuries coupled with the likelihood of being caught were reasons enough to make our legs tremble. The desire of watching the movie on the opening day had started to look bleak.

But, suddenly, as if the whole universe conspired by some divine intervention, or was it due to our supreme sacrifice by fasting, an idea stuck me. “Why not seek permission from the warden to attend Krishna Janmashtami puja” I exclaimed.

“Yes and the puja takes place in the middle of the night, so we can safely enter after watching the movie in the pretext of puja” added Rajesh fervently.

Our energies now revitalised with renewed hope, we peddled excitedly back to the hostel.

The warden was a rotund middle aged fellow with extraordinary skill of giving a ‘roar of rage’ to anyone, anytime. He sat strategically on the roof of the porch; from there he could keep an eye on the three buildings housing more that 200 inmates. Still a bachelor, through the most ineligible one, he could make boys wet their pants with his mere vile glare. Nicknamed as ‘Baadshah’, he was collectively and regularly cursed by all the boys, though in close confines, miles away from his hearing distance.

“Yes, what are you all doing here” barked Baadshah.

We looked at each other hoping the other one would bell the cat.

“Will you all stand and stare at my beauty” he yelled this time.

“No..Sir..actually, we, all four of us are fasting for Janmashtami” I blurted with a cough.

“So, shall I dance” he taunted while rubbing his bald vigorously with a thin towel. His tummy wobbled as he enacted a mock dance to endorse his statement.

“Err..Sir…we want to go for Janmashtami puja in the night” I spoke with enormous courage.

“Accacha..Accacha..good..Puja..go..go..I never stop anyone for doing puja” he spoke humanly and spiritually this time.

We turned and sprinted.

Vasco da Gama may not have been so elated after discovering India as we did after getting the permission from the crass warden.

This time the theatre was relatively accessible, I stood in the ticket counter, only two people in front of me and at least two hours for the counter to open and three hours for the show to begin, we were feeling quite hopeful. Fighting the hunger pangs we waited patiently for the counter to open. As the time inched closer the crowd started to bulge and so did the hooligans. Eighty rupees clenched tightly in my fist I jostled hard to push my hand through the tiny opening of the counter when it opened. People climbed on shoulders, elbowed, barged from sides and inserted their hand through the narrow opening bruising my fingers. Determined not to give up I pushed harder. “Come on, you can do it” ..”Come on..come on..” I could hear Rana pepping me from the teeming crowd.

Victory at last, tickets were thrust on my palm, I had to just pull out my fist and then myself out. The palm finally came out but I wasn’t able to pull myself out. Ajay came to my rescue, pulling my hands. I remained stuck in the rabble. Rajesh joined too, and finally I was extricated but all the buttons of my shirts were gone. Ajay’s sleeper had a broken strap.

Inside the theatre I sat with the shirt firmly held with both hands to protect my honor and Ajay watched with mouth open, bare foot. On the screen while Aman aka Sagar sipped his ‘Rampyari’ tea gazing the beautiful ‘Pooja’ our stomach rumbled.

Watching the romantic saga evolve and unfold in front my eyes I made two silent solemn promises “Never to watch movie on first day and never to fast”.