Hsssss!

My Deda had this strange thing about taking me to 'queer', yes, read that as strange, diabolical movies; not really movies that a child or a growing girl would like. But I kind of enjoyed going out with him. More so because I could see how enthusiastic he was about the movies. And I slowly and steadily started loving these 'horror' films! I suspect that might be one reason why I feel so 'fearless'. 

I remember once I went to Apsara Cinema Hall for a night show with Deda. And the movie we went to see was Ssssnnake! As I stood outside the hall with Deda, I still remember I was almost shivering while I stared at the poster on a standee. It was during my winter holidays and though I was wearing a jacket and denims, just by staring at the picture of a snake with bared fangs gave me the jitters. But once inside the hall, I gave up to the ambiance inside and to the sights and sounds of the movie. Once in a while, I would clutch at my Deda's sleeves. At the end, I let out a sigh, a mixed feeling of relief and maybe, now if I think of it, the desire to see some more!

And hence, my journey into films started with Deda. We watched Deep, Bees, Superman, Alfred Hitchcock movies and galloped once in a while in cowboy films. 

Mama would take me more 'girlie' romantic movies. I remember her taking me to watch Roman Holiday in a hall (I forget which one)in Shillong. And I came home all starry-eyed pretending I was the Princess and I would escape into the heart of my lover and we would be happy forever. 

Movies, movies, movies...this has become a way of life for me. Well, it isn't my fault if in Class 2, I enacted a self-styled role(s) inside a room, read that as a double role and dreamt of becoming a super star. Thanks to Deda and Mama!

Sssnnake

Sssnnake

Sssnnake

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Dear Dad!

I want you to know that as a little girl of 5 years, you did make my evenings really entertaining, at a time when we didn't even know anything about television. I have such delightful memories of the process you got me and the rest of the neighbourhood into. 

I remember two men tying the white bed-sheet at a vantage point; my friends all pushing each other to sit in the front row, getting into a nasty spat and maybe crying, only to be pacified by some elder; Mom and her friends buzzing in the kitchen with gossip from the area while frying pakoras; the men of the house and your friends from the area making themselves comfortable in the chairs lined up at the end of the bed-sheet-covered durrie where we were to be seated. And all this in the back yard of the house of a sultry summer evening. 

Soon, with a click and a 'whirr', one of your men from the office would start the cinema projector and there would be this awestruck silence, except for a few coughs and a sneeze, all eyes would be stuck to the screen as the music from the speakers created a magical ambiance. The plate of pakoras would invariably do the rounds; no one but complaining of the pinch of salt gone missing in them. As the projector 'whirred', the movie commenced at a pace we all wished we would have had control over. No one wanted to take a break and we were all impatient as the next spool was being hoisted onto the projector. Again, a lull as the next half of the film started. 

I have forgotten some of the endless films you screened for us but I do remember a couple of them like Hum panchi ek dal ke...Dosti....

Now, when I look back, I feel this initiation into films with you was one of my most cherished feeling. I wish we could still do this even now. I miss sitting on the durrie, eating pakoras, huddled together with friends and watching a movie.

Thank you Dad for giving me these memories I will cherish forever!