A week back his father invited me to their home town for the first anniversary ritual and there was also a limited edition book release of his collection of stories organized by his close friends. I could not go, or I did not feel like going.
Because of the only reason that, he was not there.
Our first meeting was on April 2009.
He was recovering from a surgery and I asked him what
did the doctor say? He told me that the doctor had warned him not to
drink again else he will die. And so he had questioned the same doctor “what if I don’t drink?”
After i came back to Hyderabad from our first round discussions I called him,
“Sir, I have good news and a bad
news”
“Good news first”
“Our picture heroine is confirmed”
“Good, what’s the bad news?”
“The entire discussion we had in Vijayawada got erased from my voice
recorder, we don’t have a backup”
“Ok… I can write it again, but how much do you remember?”
“Only the good ones”
“That’s enough”
Such a terrible singer he was who sings “Naalo Nenenaa” all the time. When I requested him not to sing, he requested me not
to listen. After the film got released he told me “You didn’t use much of what I wrote, but you had used everything I had
said. Now I know how to write dialogues for your next film”
I have never seen jealousy on his face but only a childish expression of amusement about everything around him. He will be surprised to know when Telugu writers got paid 50-60
lakhs just for the story, or will innocently ask why our script writers travel to Bangkok for story discussions?
Though we did not meet or talk regularly as much as how close we are, to which he explains “You will call me only when there is something useful for me, and
I will call you only when there is something useful to you” .
Even after the release, I could not discuss much about my film scripts. He was always unavailable for my stories but always available for me. I wanted to pay him what he truly deserves and then only engage him professionally as a writer.
But we spoke about many things. Our discussions flowed from the secrets of the Universe to the secrets of a Man. I spoke to him about my personal secrets which I have never discussed with any other human being. When he was there, it was like talking to myself. He used to be like a mirror where I could stand naked with my thoughts. He named our discussions as "intellectual intercourse". His assistants used to tell me, that whenever we both meet, his face glowed with true joy and happiness, and I could sense the jealousy of other people inside the room for that importance he always gave me. Whenever film makers approached him to write
dialogues, I used to tell him, that they are making a serious mistake by
asking him to write. Instead they should just listen to him. They don’t
know what they were missing.
One day he teased me that he got an offer to direct, like all other writers. I told him to go ahead saying directing a film is very easy. He angrily replied "You could have just said shut up". He questioned me about how did I ended up in this film industry, assuming that I
don’t belong here. I told him that it
was my choice. When I asked him the same question he said that it was
by chance.
In this cinema industry, I may not be grateful to my first film producer for giving me the opportunity, but I will always remember him for introducing me to the most interesting personality in my life.
When some websites wrote bad about him he asked me
if I had seen the news. I told him I saw them on the internet and sincerely said it was
all true. He smiled and said “Yes, what they wrote about me is true, but I wish they could have written many other truth's which are good about me..:)"
He always called me "abbai" and had my name in his phone book as "che". I told him that am not so young for
him to call me his son. He says “You are younger than me, that’s enough”.
Whenever I questioned him why does he drink so much? He will say “I cannot interact with all these foolish people on a daily basis with my consciousness around”
Life was like a foot-ball ground to him, where he played with true spirit. But his short life in the Telugu film industry was like a foot-ball game where people played with him.
Life was like a foot-ball ground to him, where he played with true spirit. But his short life in the Telugu film industry was like a foot-ball game where people played with him.
Our last meeting was on 27th April 2011.
On that day, he did not know that I cried like I have never cried so much in my life. Not even when my father died.
One year later.
I could still smell the fragrance of Nagaraju Gandham.
