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1)no superstar is a fool..like marlon brando once said,”if u want to be a star of the ppl, u must learn to give blood to their fantasies”.since a superstar is a product of mass appreciation the quality of his movies and his intellect should never be equated.

2)a superstar is always a talent not utilised in totality, cos somewhere along the line when u become a superstar the focus shifts from being a gr8 performer to looking good on screen..it does,sadly..

Now there is also a certain theory that i feel is a part of the symbiotic relationship that stars share with the audiences he connects to.

The posting below is just an extrapolation of that truth..Mind u it is at times superfluous, at times unrealistic, at times pretty cheesy and at times even gramatically inchorent..but it is still, i believe just a mirror to the protagonist and the life he’s living amid the glares that follow him…so here we go..My story begins now…

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Finally after many years of being the exclusive part of an actor’s memorabilia, the swanky beard, the twirled moustache and the black mole seemed to have found a reason for existence. Manish sprinted slowly but steadily stepping on the pedal with each projectile arc that his stretched arms traced as dawn announced itself on the streets of Mumbai. A hat and an eye-patch to go with his present set of accessories and Manish Jaisingh could well have been giving ‘Captain Jack Sparrow’ a run for his money.   

Although he was reprising one of his most beloved screen characters, Manish no longer resembled the tobacco-chewing, squint-eyed, evil village ‘MUKHIYA’ that critics claimed to be one of his most accomplished screen portrayals to date. ‘Baldev Thakur’ had grown up to be a feeble-looking, less incisive, less agile, a tad pot-bellied version of a once nefarious soul.

“Dr. Rastogi doesn’t know one bit of what he is talking. High systole, high cholesterol count, a fear of blocked arteries, load of shit. I could well have worked out on my treadmill”, ‘Thakur rechristened’ grumbled along with a heavy degree of petulance.

Dr. Rastogi wasn’t an aggressive person to start with. In fact, he was too benign even for his profession, which oft-expected him to be that way.

But, no sooner had he finished muttering his well-punctuated speech with that trademark sign-off of his,” Just my suggestion. Its up to you after all”, Manish knew it was time to get the dust off his jogging shoes.

MANISH’S ARGUMENT:

“But doc, with all my modesty in place, how do you expect me to be running on the streets surrounded by a set of people many of whom…”

DR. RASTOGI’S ‘WAY OUT’:

“Well, you are a star agreed. But you are also an actor, aren’t you? All these years you have been trying to play different characters. All you have to this time is try not being this one character. And that character happens to be you. Just try giving fresh morning air a chance. Trust me; the results would be there for you to see”

THE JOG DRESS-REHEARSAL:

Manish spent a large part of that evening trying to figure out a way to not be himself. He treated himself to three of his recent performances, at the end of which he got up and looking into the mirror went about in a self-deriding voice, “Look at you. Just,look at your performances. The critics are right when they say you are the same person in every character you play. You seem to be Manish Jaisingh in every god-damned character you play. And even at the risk of sounding harsh, I have to say this, you suck buddy, you suck big time”

Time was fast running out and so Manish decided to take the most easily accessible method of translating into a character, “The physical divergence path”. He chose the ‘prop-rescue act’ over his inability to be natural.

And that’s how ‘Baldev Thakur’ found himself sprinting through the ‘Kabootar khana’ giving hordes of pudgy pigeons a flying exercise.

Now ‘Kabootar khana’ and Manish went way back. It was right here that he would regularly meet Viny, his wife (now conveniently referred to by the media as his ‘first wife’).

He felt a longing for those dating sessions they once had; the holding of hands, the cheesy jokes and the glint in Viny’s eyes every time she laughed uncontrollably. And the very next moment he was hit by the ‘alimony amount’ that she had demanded from him following their separation. Their honeymoon was over… yet again.

‘Marine Drive’ brought to his memory his first meeting with Gulshan Khanna, the man who had launched him at the movies. Their association had ended on a bitter note with Manish turning down Gulshan’s last film over Gulshan’s refusal to let go off its overseas rights.

“Maybe I should have handled the situation better”, he thought to himself.

Fifteen minutes off the drive and Manish found himself running into a lane that was fast approaching heavy crowdedness. His pace has slackened quite a bit but the resolve was still there. Three blocks away lived Karan Chawla, a noted film critic.

“Have to pick up some Diwali gifts for Chawla. ‘Dil darya’ is releasing this Diwali”, he reminded himself.

It might have been 7-7:15 in the morning. It was a Friday which meant that the school bus arrived on the lane, greeted with an uncharacteristic enthusiasm by kids waiting to hop in. Chacha’s general store raised its shutters and Chacha walked in holding a sack of pulses. The cycle repair shop owner was busy checking a cycle tube for the presence of any undetected orifice. The street beauty brushed past Manish and the archetypical street urchin followed her over-zealously. No one out there seemed to be recognizing Manish Jaisingh, the superstar.

“The costume’s working well I guess”, Manish’s mind raced on.

He looked around and grasped a feeling of drabness he was suddenly accorded with. It took some time for him to gather his thoughts and resume running.

But, he stopped suddenly for want of air. A thudding sound hit his chest, he was sweating profusely. He felt like he was choking. Few heavy gasps followed.

“Have I overrun myself here?” , a thought struck his mind.

The momentary discomfort had snowballed into a vigorous bout of uneasiness. Manish felt the need to rest somewhere and the road beneath seemed to be the most easily available option. He reached out for his mobile in a bid to call Dr. Rastogi but discovered that forgetfulness had got the better of him, yet again. “Damn it”..

His random lines of thoughts were conflicted by a gentle tap on his right shoulder by one elderly gentleman. Manish looked up, still panting.

“Do you want something to drink, you seem pretty roughed up”, Chacha enquired in a concerned tone.

“Yes”, said Manish taking off his moustache. The beard followed suit. A rapid shake of the head was enough for the mole to wear off too.

“Manish…. Manish Jaisingh”, the old man cried out. His voice echoed across the entire street.

Soon Manish Jaisingh, the superstar was back to where he truly belonged. Right in the centre of all the public attention and frenzy.

“Sir I thought you were brilliant as Major Natwar singh”, a certain someone remarked.

“I am a big fan of you sir. My wife too. My kids love you sir”

“Autograph please”, a high-school cutie demanded holding out an autograph book. Manish accepted the offer and signed readily.

The puffing and panting was put to rest, the breathing discomfort had subsided and the chest pain, nosedived.

Manish stood up. The crowd drew back in acknowledgement.

“I can’t believe this”, a voice broke out confirming the prevalent sense of excitement.

Most of those gathered there, stood completely startled. Manish looked around yet again. He was feeling good. He had never felt better. Physical serenity was back. The smile was back on his face which just a few minutes back was shrouded in despondence.

He turned a full circle and waved to all those present there. A loud uproar ensued. Applauses flowed in.

“I love you guys”, Manish declared and continued running his most eventful run..