Here we were in school, a bunch of giddy schoolgirls hell bent on meeting the reigning cine superstar. The giddiness, the madness, the pure excitement of doing so drove us into a complete frenzy. We had heard Amitabh Bachchan was in Delhi for some reason and was staying in a hotel with his lady love , not his wife Jaya, an indiscretion not lost on film stars worldwide. However, we and many millions had no problem in adding an additional cine god to the millions of gods already in existence. All we knew was that we had to see this larger than life image. So off we went, dressed in our best clothes. As soon as we reached the hotel, the hotel staff wouldn’t even entertain the idea. We were shocked at their cruelty considering the long arduous bus ride we had taken and spent a considerable amount of money on our fineries. But what does the hotel staff know about the longings of schoolgirls? Neither were they aware of absolute resolute of schoolgirls. I wouldn’t say they had it coming, but they invited this criminal behavior from us.
Far from being disappointed, the five of us started scheming. We split up into two groups and began our race to the rooms from two different directions. No, we did not know which floor or which room Rekha, the sultry cine queen hanging onto his arm when he came out to greet us. Nonetheless, we were here for a purpose and so we were racing from one floor to another with the hotel staff closely behind us. When we ran, they ran, when we disappeared in the elevators, they did too. Elevators stopped, doors opened, people ran out, people ran back in, and so this went on for a while. Finally one of us heard somebody saying Amitabh Bachchan was on a particular floor. We did carry some extra cash just in case the staff could be slipped some at an opportune moment. We began to knock softly on each door. No luck. Then we started again, this time with ferocious banging and peeking under doors for a mere shadow of the great one.was in but we were determined to go to all the floors and knock on all doors till the great god emerged from one of them. We were also hoping to see
Then it happened, a door opened and out came the god himself. One of us fainted right there near the wall. We ignored her. The rest of us stood mesmerized at the explosion from Amitabh Bachchan. We also got dizzy staring at the towering personality in front of us. I vaguely remember the scolding we got from Amitabh Bachchan. He bellowed that he was sick of schoolgirls behaving like animals; he also said we should be ashamed of ourselves for impinging on his privacy and asked us whether he should call the police. In our discombobulated state, we barely managed to think that why would a man who killed everybody with a swipe of his hand and who had entire populations shivering with fright when he spoke, need police for a bunch of harmless schoolgirls?
Anyway that thunderous roar of this megagod lulled us deeper into fascination. We forgot to blink, we forgot to breathe, and we forgot to speak. We had just enough time to stand and stare and float. The fainted girl woke up to go back into a stupor again. One of us kicked her legs together so at least she looked lady like even in her langour. Megagod did not shake our hands, did not marvel at our determination and neither did he thank us for our passion. In fact, before we had time to close our gaping mouths, cine god was gone forever, behind that door and behind that screen. We were captured by the hotel staff and escorted outside the hotel. It was the longest walk of silence interspersed with tears of euphoria. On a good note, we were flushed with our status of being the famous-five-yelled-at-by-none-other-than