Adieu, Dev Sahib

An ode to the legendary Bollywood actor who passed away on December 4.

MUMBAI:

He was a classmate of our Indian Air Force (IAF) commander. So whenever he was anywhere around the place where Air Marshal Rajaram was posted, Dev Anand would invariably make it a point to pay him a visit. That is when I met him at Hindon Air Force Station. Seeing him in flesh, holding a glass of whisky in his lanky hands and cheering, is a scenario I had never even dreamed of in my life.

We had grown in the streets of Jammu and Kashmir, singing the songs he lip-synced on the silver screen, watching his romantic films in the morning and noon shows, braving the cold of Srinagar or the scorching heat of Jammu, with passion and devotion.

Thanks to his friendship with Rajaram, he was a darling of the officers’ mess. There will always be a small get-together in his honour. I recall him mingling with the officers of the IAF affably, cheering each one of them, and always holding a glass of whisky in his hand without finishing a single drink. His visits would always be short, sweet and cheerful.

In 1990, I was posted by the Air Force in Mumbai, which provided me a few opportunities of interacting with the legend in occasional filmy get-togethers. In 1996, I hung my boots and sought pre mature release from the Air Force. The following years afforded me greater interaction with Dev Sahib. Many of these meetings were with my friend and journalist Ali Peter John, who is a great admirer of the legendary actor.

Meeting Dev Sahib was an experience I will always cherish. He was a bundle of energy, full of enthusiasm for life and great optimism. Each time I met him, I came back a better version of myself. I recall a day, sometime in 1997, when I had to meet Dev Sahib at his house in Pali Hill. I was feeling feverish and short of energy so I rang him up to say that I would like to be excused. “Officer, if you are not feeling bright, that is good enough a reason for you to make it. You must come over. After meeting me, you are bound to feel better.” I simply could not resist this logic, I took his words to be almost like a sermon.

He offered me a sandwich and later obliged with some hot tea. We spent about two hours discussing subjects ranging from films, society and politics to social obligations of a public performer and Lalu Prasad Yadav. He was in his element and kept me in good humour throughout. By the time I left him, I was feeling energetic and cheerful. Once again, his verve and vitality had rubbed off on me.

He was never patronising, but I shall always be grateful to him as he inspired me to live life to the fullest, irrespective of the hurdles or unfavourable circumstances, to never waste time on meaningless social interactions and do all the things you like as long as these do not hurt others. As an actor, he was more youthful than most of Bollywood’s younger crop of actors. Death, he did not recognise; he believed in living. Even after learning of the death of his dear friend, Rajaram, he always referred to him as if he had talked to him a short while ago only. That was his zest for life. “Officer, zindagi se badi nemat aur koi nahin hai. Just live it up!” he would always say.

The writer is a former officer of the Indian Air Force and is presently working with the Indian film industry

Published in The Express Tribune, December 6^th, 2011.