Yash Chopra: Now That The Love is Gone....

I’m sitting here thinking about what Yash Chopra has taught me and it’s really quite simple: love, pyar, ishq, mohabbat. I remember watching Dil Toh Pagal Hai a few months ago and thinking, he’s really not fair, Yashji. He creates unrealistic scenarios of love. And we Indian girls, who are suckers for gush, believe that this is the only way love is done. I’ve in fact, I found myself blaming Yashji for my singlehood— where would I find a man who would love me like they do in a Yash Chopra film? THAT is the kind of love I wanted and still want in a more rational manner now, of course.

In a way, his passing means that love onscreen has come to a complete halt. No one understood and expressed passionate, unconditional, sacrificial, all consuming love like he did. As news of his passing came, immediately a sense of grief was felt. Irrespective of which Yash Chopra film you’ve seen—all or even one, you always walked away knowing you saw a masterpiece.

Through Yash Chopra’s films, we were able to dream. As women, we believed a man would come, he would fight, believe, love and sweep you off your feet. But it wasn’t just love between a man and a woman that he fully understood. Yashji understood all forms of love—bonds between a son and mother, brothers and especially, friends.

My memory of my first Yash Chopra film dates back to 1989. Chandni. Between my sister and I, the dialogues were learned, the dances were mimicked and Sridevi was imitated over 100 times. But we were too young to even understand who the genius behind the camera was. All we knew was that we loved this film. A few years later, we fell in love with Darr and eventually, it was through Dil Toh Pagal Hai that finally, we understood that we were experiencing magic.

Believe it or not, I’ve still to fully familiarize myself with his older iconic films. Silsila and Kabhi Kabhie happened to be in my early twenties while it was only a few months ago that I caught myself watching the absolutely fantastic Mashaal and Waqt.

It is today that I must give thanks. For every time I want to run through a field of flowers. For chiffon saris. For sangeet songs. For snow-capped mountains. For music that lasts a lifetime. And for love that every girl craves for, we thank you Yash Chopra. One day I'll run through a meadow of tulips with my chiffon dupatta flying high and I know you'll be looking down smiling. You will be missed.

You Are My Sunshine

Every year around this time, I find myself feeling rather emotional and nostalgic. It was in early 1994 that that my grandfather passed away. For everyone that knows me, you’ll know that I was pretty much my Nana’s laadli. To say that I was attached to him would be wrong; the bond I share with him is impossible to break even now years after demise. Growing up, I found myself in awe of my grandfather. They don’t make men like him anymore. His style, attitude, personality and infection smile, he was impossible to ignore.

Yesterday evening, my grandmother and I were chatting on the phone and of course, the conversation turned to marriage. In the smartest of ways, [pats self on back] I managed to divert the conversation to her courtship with my grandfather. Very few people know the complete story but in a nutshell, they knew each other as children and played together in a common angaan in Karachi. After the partition, my grandfather’s family moved to Bombay and my grandmother’s to Hong Kong. Many years later, they reunited in Hong Kong and through beautiful love letters and of course, with the blessings of their families, they married. I awed and gushed over their love story, but I wasn’t surprised that she was floored by him. He was just like that.

Being the first grandchild, it was only natural for me to be overly pampered. My grandfather however, couldn’t get enough of me. I was his favorite and I have no qualms boasting about it. This is probably one of the reasons I grew up calling him 'Daddy'. He was quite literally my second father. As a gift, I landed up inheriting the writing gene from him but he taught me lessons for life which till today I live by. In many ways, my mother says I’m like him. I love India like no other, feel the need to exercise to vote, believe that organization is the key to living and that no work should be done halfheartedly.

The last time I saw my grandfather, he took my siblings and I to the museum and the aquarium in Mumbai. At 12, it was hardly the most interesting thing to do. I remember yawning and experiencing boredom of epic proportions. Looking back now, I wish I had listened to every word my grandfather had told us and hugged him a million times that day. He passed away less than a year later from cancer. My mother tells us he asked for us every day.

My fondest memory with my grandfather was when he'd place me on his lap and we'd sing "Our Song".

“You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine,

You make me happy,

When skies are grey.

You never know dear,

How much I love you,

                                                 I love you very very very very very much!”

We modified the song to our liking but it was the moment after that I miss the most: the warmest hug in the world.

It’s been 18 years since he’s been gone and there isn’t a day where I don’t miss him. There isn’t a minute I wish I'd told him I loved him just one more time. Every morning when the sun comes shining through my windows into my room, I smile because it is then that feel my Daddy around me watching over me like my guardian angel.

I miss you Daddy. Miss you a lot.

From TIME Magazine, with love to Sachin T.

I was in AWE of the tribute TIME gave to Sachin Tendulkar. It made you stop. Think. And breathe.

"When Sachin Tendulkar travelled to Pakistan to face one of the finest bowling attacks ever assembled in cricket, Michael Schumacher was yet to race a F1 car, Lance Armstrong had never been to the Tour de France, Diego Maradona was still the captain of a world champion Argentina team, Pete Sampras had never won a Grand Slam.

When Tendulkar embarked on a glorious career taming Imran and company, Roger Federer was a name unheard of; Lionel Messi was in his nappies, Usain Bolt was an unknown kid in the Jamaican backwaters. The Berlin Wall was still intact, USSR was one big, big country, Dr Manmohan Singh was yet to "open" the Nehruvian economy.

It seems while Time was having his toll on every individual on the face of this planet, he excused one man. Time stands frozen in front of Sachin Tendulkar. We have had champions, we have had legends, but we have never had another Sachin Tendulkar and we never will."

One word: WOW.