<p class="bodytext">It is not often that one, as a VOP (Very Ordinary Person), comes face-to-face with celebrities. But there is an incident that lives on in <br />my memory.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I was at Bengaluru airport (the old HAL one); I frequently went there to drop off or pick up my spouse, who travelled a lot for work. </p>.<p class="bodytext">That particular day, I was hanging around the arrival area, and without realising it, I had dropped my car keys. Suddenly, I heard a sweet voice asking me, in Kannada, “<span class="italic">Idu nimdaa</span>?” (Is this yours?) I turned and first looked at the keys and recognised them. Extending my hand in a combination of embarrassment at having dropped them and happiness at having them found, I looked up into a very beautiful face. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Movie stars do not always look as beautiful in person as they do on screen, but there was no mistaking the beauty of this one. My mouth formed a wordless “O” of surprise. Before I could speak, the star smiled again...bewitchingly...and said, “Yes, that’s who I am! So have you seen my films?” </p>.<p class="bodytext">“Of course!” I answered, finally finding my voice. “I am a huge fan of yours...like many thousands of others! I have seen only one or two of your Kannada films, but I have seen almost all your Tamil films.”</p>.Saroja Devi Funeral: 'Kannadathu Paingili' laid to rest with state honours.<p class="bodytext">The star smiled again. “Happy to have met you,” she said. I suddenly thought of an autograph and scrambled in my handbag and brought out a small notebook in which I kept my daily accounts. And (miracle of miracles!) a pen that worked. I held the notebook on my bag, and the star signed.</p>.<p class="bodytext">By this time, we were surrounded by a crowd, many of whom were definitely envious that I had managed to speak to the celebrity; others, like me, were marvelling at her simple approach. I had to yield, of course, but managed to thank the luminary and convey my good wishes. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Of course I never met this superstar again, but I watched many more of <br />her movies. </p>.<p class="bodytext">A couple of days ago, halfway around the world, I opened my ePaper and saw the news that this star had gone to the celestial galaxy. I had always felt that apart from being a celebrity, this star was also a good human being. I sent up a prayer from my heart, to the eternal stars, for this star whose light shone on me, briefly, all those years ago.</p>.<p class="bodytext">May you be in the eternal light, Saroja Devi. Handing me my car keys was probably a forgotten blip in your busy life, but one fan carries that memory in her heart forever. I will look at your talent and your beauty again and again in various movies and pray that you rest in peace. </p>
<p class="bodytext">It is not often that one, as a VOP (Very Ordinary Person), comes face-to-face with celebrities. But there is an incident that lives on in <br />my memory.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I was at Bengaluru airport (the old HAL one); I frequently went there to drop off or pick up my spouse, who travelled a lot for work. </p>.<p class="bodytext">That particular day, I was hanging around the arrival area, and without realising it, I had dropped my car keys. Suddenly, I heard a sweet voice asking me, in Kannada, “<span class="italic">Idu nimdaa</span>?” (Is this yours?) I turned and first looked at the keys and recognised them. Extending my hand in a combination of embarrassment at having dropped them and happiness at having them found, I looked up into a very beautiful face. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Movie stars do not always look as beautiful in person as they do on screen, but there was no mistaking the beauty of this one. My mouth formed a wordless “O” of surprise. Before I could speak, the star smiled again...bewitchingly...and said, “Yes, that’s who I am! So have you seen my films?” </p>.<p class="bodytext">“Of course!” I answered, finally finding my voice. “I am a huge fan of yours...like many thousands of others! I have seen only one or two of your Kannada films, but I have seen almost all your Tamil films.”</p>.Saroja Devi Funeral: 'Kannadathu Paingili' laid to rest with state honours.<p class="bodytext">The star smiled again. “Happy to have met you,” she said. I suddenly thought of an autograph and scrambled in my handbag and brought out a small notebook in which I kept my daily accounts. And (miracle of miracles!) a pen that worked. I held the notebook on my bag, and the star signed.</p>.<p class="bodytext">By this time, we were surrounded by a crowd, many of whom were definitely envious that I had managed to speak to the celebrity; others, like me, were marvelling at her simple approach. I had to yield, of course, but managed to thank the luminary and convey my good wishes. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Of course I never met this superstar again, but I watched many more of <br />her movies. </p>.<p class="bodytext">A couple of days ago, halfway around the world, I opened my ePaper and saw the news that this star had gone to the celestial galaxy. I had always felt that apart from being a celebrity, this star was also a good human being. I sent up a prayer from my heart, to the eternal stars, for this star whose light shone on me, briefly, all those years ago.</p>.<p class="bodytext">May you be in the eternal light, Saroja Devi. Handing me my car keys was probably a forgotten blip in your busy life, but one fan carries that memory in her heart forever. I will look at your talent and your beauty again and again in various movies and pray that you rest in peace. </p>