KOFFEE WITH KIRAN
CHAPER - 4
Emon drove the car with a little more caution after the near fatal incident. At the cargo intersect he chose the Western Express highway, instead of inner roads, for two reasons. One, he found the shaded three way lane with leaf shaped concrete advertisement hoardings at the side very inspiring and chic. Two, he knew the volume of traffic would be less.
They reached Mont Blanc without any further hiccups. After parking the car in the garage, the two friends walked along the spiral path lined with potted plants and wrought iron lamps towards the elevator. The recessed capsule elevator bay never ceased to amaze Sid, which had its outside camouflaged with one way glass. To someone watching from far, they were non existent. The best part of Mont Blanc was the design of the building itself, which appeared like a sail boat, when viewed from a distance.
It was Sid who suggested the beautifully designed edifice to them, insisting it would suit their style and budget. Emon and Anoushka immediately fell in love with the place when they first saw Mont Blanc a year back; it was like love at first sight. Even before looking at the apartment their decision was made, impressed by the exteriors. The rest of the tour of the apartment was just a formality. It was their dream, to own an apartment which was airy, and on the top floor of a high rise building, which Mont Blanc fulfilled to a large extent. They bought the place from Anoushka’s savings, his own advance money which he received from the publishers for the five book contract and the balance from the bank, as a loan.
The breeze escaped with a loud noise when Emon opened the door. Emon immediately headed for the kitchen. He made two cups of coffee, walked back to the living room and handed one to Sid. He had an urge to have one at the airport; but resisted the temptation. He knew the awful concoction would ruin his taste buds. He eased himself into the sofa and pulled up his legs while Sid who was parading in the living room, headed towards the balcony, looking out, at the panoramic view.
“The landscape of Mumbai looks scarred and patchy, I wish we had good town planners,” he said, unhappy with the view. “I feel frustrated every time I come to Mumbai. Such a beautiful city and look what they have done.”
“I guess you are right. But with all its squalor Mumbai is still considered as one the most enchanting cities of the world.”
“Enchanting? Yes, I guess you are talking about the other Mumbai which belongs to the rich. I am amazed at how the two extremes of this city co-exist peacefully side by side. At one end of the spectrum we have beautifully planned townships and heritage landmark structures and on the other end, ignored and deprived slums full of filth and rejection. It’s so unreal; two cities residing within one. Such an ugly symbiosis. I am sure there is a solution but our Babu’s, the so called caretakers of this city are busy with other things.”
Emon did not say anything. He was used to his frustration with the system, the people and everyone who thought otherwise. He could never talk about bureaucrats without rancor. Given a platform he could pontificate for hours on the role of a good bureaucrat.
“What about Worldcom Entertainment?” Emon asked, changing the subject, but genuinely interested. “Any news from them?”
Worldcom Entertainment was not only a top film marketing and production company in United States but also had interests in the publication business. Sid had recently decided to expand from print and electronic advertisement to entertainment and marketing. In recent times he had built a strong relationship with many Producers, Directors and blue chip companies.
Sid did not answer immediately, instead moved towards a collage of picture frames on the other side of the living room. A set of five on each of the three tiers decorated the small wall just above the glass and mahogany book rack. He moved a little closer to get a better view. He worshipped this wall; admiring the way Anoushka captured them at various points of their struggling years. He looked at them like a connoisseur would look at an M.F. Hussain painting. He smiled when he saw two new additions.
"Anoushka's picture clicking hobby has paid off. The wall looks beautiful with those black frames. Good that she converted the images to grayscale. They look more attractive. I also see two new pictures," Sid said.
"You have a keen eye. She added two just last week. The one with the yellow sticky note on your forehead and the other one is that of Tania in Panchgani."
His face suddenly wore an expression of great solemnity, always heightened whenever he heard Tania's name.
Sid walked back, towards the row of sofas scattered geometrically around the living room and slid into one of them. “I am sorry, you asked me about Worldcom. Yes, they are excited. With the entry of Indian corporate in film and other entertainment areas they feel it is time for them to step outside of the U.S. Who does not know Bollywood, its mega budgets and controversial stars?
He lit a cigarette and passed the packet to Emon, who refused, unable to adjust to his brand.
“That was about a week ago. I am sure by now they must have verified my credentials. I am confident they will accept my proposal. Emon, the Worldcom tie up will put me into the big league,” he continued, with a hint of excitement in his voice.
“You deserve it. You had a vision and you worked hard to reach there,” Emon said.
The smile on Ronnie's face conveyed so many things. It was worth a thousand words.
"Before I forget, has Ronnie called up?” Emon continued.
Ronnie was a close friend of Sid’s who worked as an acquiring editor for a big publishing company. He was the person responsible for important decisions, like which manuscripts to accept from agents, authors and which to reject. It was Ronnie who gave him the break by approving his first book, titled “Shattered Dreams”. Short and plump with a receding hairline he was always found in a weather beaten full suit. The round chubby face deceived the fact that he had a master’s degree in literature with several books under his belt. He was also a top columnist for many respected newspapers.
“I am sorry, I completely forgot. He's called me a couple of times. He sounded anxious and excited about the book, as the submission date is nearing. He wants you to go to Bangalore on several promotional events, including visits to book stores. Do you think you can manage?”
“Yes! Of course. After all it is my book.”
“Okay. Then I will call him up and fix the dates. What about ....”
Before Sid could finish Emon interrupted him. “Remember, I told you I won’t finish writing ‘Koffee with Kiran’ till I knew about the outcome of her struggle. Well, she sent us the premiere tickets today, for her debut movie. She is starring opposite the undisputed number one actor of Bollywood, Aashish Kumar.”
To prove his point he pushed the magazine on the table towards him, the one he bought from the boy at the signal. Sid picked up and stared at her picture for a long time.
“Are you sure she is Kiran?” Sid asked. He appeared confused.
“Yes, of course. She has changed, but it happens with the time.” Emon replied, shocked by the nature of his question.
“No, I think you are making a mistake. Her name is Koel. I know because the producer of this movie had offered me its distribution rights. But his price was outrageous.”
“How can it be? No, it is you who is making a mistake.”
“There is only one way to find out. I will ask Vikram to call up their office.”
Sid called up Vikram and explained the problem.
"Call me as soon as you get some information.” he said, finally ending the conversation.
They did not have to wait long, Vikram called back immediately. He was enterprising and a thorough professional.
"Yes, Vikram. Did you find out about her?” Sid asked.
He listened to him for a long time, before hanging up. "You are right. She is Kiran. The producer gave her a new Bollywood name. Her second naming ceremony; the Namkaran was done long before the movie hit the floor.”
“But how come she has changed so much?” Emon questioned him.
“I have no answer for that. These days film makers create a lot of hype and hoopla around the stars. It is not uncommon for directors/producers to rename their stars, change their looks etc. If she had not changed her name you would have met her long back.”
“That is exactly what Anoushka told me in the morning.”
Emon shuffled through the pages of the film magazine which was still on his lap, looking at her pictures. How could anyone change so much. He checked her name once again. The title of the article and the lead statement clearly mentioned her name as “Koel”, the future of Bollywood. He could not come to terms with the new facts and especially her new name.
“Now don't blame yourself,” Sid said, as if reading his mind. “You were busy with your second book and of course you had completely lost interest in film industry.”
“I guess you are right. I shouldn’t blame myself.”
"You know Emon, this book of yours has got me hooked. Today is a dramatic turning point of our lives. The past has caught up with us. Kiran’s success has suddenly brought us all close together once again; I guess she is the binding factor.”
“The manuscript was ready a long time ago. I have updated some content today but frankly there are still some missing links which need to be added. I would like you to go through it later,” Emon said, “By the way, would you like to come for the premiere?”
“Yes, of course,” Sid replied.
The phone rang, breaking their conversation. Emon answered on the third ring.
"Hello?"
"Hi. It’s me again.” It was Anoushka.
"Give us a break will you," Emon said.
"Just called to check if you guys were back," she replied, unhappy with the tone of his voice, "What happened? Why are you so upset?"
“You know she has changed her name.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Kiran. Her professional name is Koel.”
“What? No wonder we did not hear about her earlier.”
“Yes. But she has changed physically too.”
“C’mon, women change with age a little faster then men. The past one year has made her a little matured. Now stop worrying and cheer up. How is Sid?”
"You ask him," Emon replied, passing the receiver to him.
"Hey, Anu. What’s up?”
"Nothing, same as usual," Anoushka said, "You tell me, how are you?"
"Great. Been traveling a lot these days and listen I have some good news for you."
"Hold it, Sid. Not now. I will catch up with you in the evening. Even I have a lot to discuss. Tell Emon to keep the Champagne bottle in the freezer. I’ll invite Vikram and Shirley too."
Shirley was her friend who worked as a copy writer with an ad agency. Tall, with short brown hair and deep set chocolate brown eyes, her skin was perpetually tanned from traveling frequently to beaches with Vikram. Always in long denim skirts, cotton top and a jacket, she was one hell of a beer guzzler.
Anoushka had introduced them to each other at a small get together. They hit it off immediately and met regularly after that. Shirley confided in her that they planned to get married but the big occasion had to wait because Vikram wanted to buy a house first.
"Let's drink to Emon’s third book," Sid said.
"Why not? Bye."
"Bye, Anu”
As soon as she disconnected, the phone rang again. Sid picked it up and answered. It was her, again.
“I hope you are staying with us this time,” she asked, not bothering to confirm if it was Sid or Emon on the other side.
“Anu, I am not sure. There are lots of problems in Delhi. Jenny has been calling me every few minutes.”
“No. I don't want to listen to those excuses. You will stay. I will see you in the evening.”
“All right Anu,” Sid said, giving up the mild resistance, knowing very well how stubborn she was.
Sid stared at the phone and smiled. He did not tell Emon but at heart he was happy because after so many years Anoushka still oozed the same warmth and affection. They sat quiet after the frenzied exchange of information; each one with his own thoughts. The soft music in the background numbed their minds. Emon got up and served a second round of coffee, to shake the sleep out of their eyes.
“In three years our lives have changed so much,” Sid said philosophically. “You, me, Anoushka and of course Kiran.”
“Yes, it has. That is the reason why I never think about those struggling days. Even today, the thought sends shivers down my spine. It appears very romantic once you overcome the hurdles, but the fact is how many people actually tide over the bad phase, very few I guess. What happens to those people, who never make it big, no one knows. They just vanish without a trace. Life is cruel and blesses very few. We are the chosen ones I guess.”
“I think it is the writer in you which is talking now. Emon, life teaches us many things, and one of the important lessons we learn is to fight and rise against all odds. Look at Kiran. What she has achieved today required guts and courage. You just mentioned that. She did it. You were close to her, so you know what she had to go through. Even in the end she had to sacrifice her name.”
Emon closed his eyes and tilted his head back until it rested against the top of the sofa, sliding himself further out of the seat. He visualized the scene outside the Blue Sky Airline office where he and his colleagues were shouting slogans against the airline management.
Their journey started from here ……
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