<p>Meeting a celebrity and getting an autograph is a dream many cherish. It was mine too ever since I shifted to Patna from a nondescript place Dumka (now in Jharkhand) where I was studying in a missionary school. In those days, Patna was the hub of musical soiree during Durga Puja and Diwali, besides Saraswati Puja.</p>.<p>Celebrities like veteran singer Mahendra Kapoor, actress-cum-singer Sulakshana Pandit, Shehnai maestro Bismillah Khan, violinist V G Jog, Birju Maharaj (<span class="italic">Kathak</span>) and many other classical performers would fly down to Patna for the stage show during the three-day musical night organised annually at Patna’s Gandhi Maidan.</p>.<p>This was in the 70s and 80s, much before the internet and mobile invaded our privacy and made our lives more mechanical. This was an era where you could see and meet a celebrity face-to-face, sit for hours late in the night and watch them perform live on the stage.</p>.<p>There were no SUVs in those days. Well-off people would gather in their old but well-maintained Ambassador cars and Fiat to avoid entering the venue. The luckier ones would manage ‘VIP passes’ and rush straight into the earmarked space.</p>.<p>So, one Dussehra evening, I told my father that I have to watch the celebrities perform live from close quarters. He tried his best, but could not arrange the VIP pass. So he did the next best thing. He took me in his brand new Fiat and parked his car quite close to the stage where the veteran singer Mahendra Kapoor was singing one musical hit after another — ‘<span class="italic">Neele gagan ke taley’, ‘Mere desh ki dharti’, and ‘Fakira chal chala chal’</span>. The last number was a chart-buster from Shashi Kapoor-Shabana Azmi starrer ‘<span class="italic">Fakira</span>’ and made the audience crave for more with ‘once more, once more’ chanting.</p>.<p>The next day Mahendra Kapoor was to board an Indian Airlines flight from Patna airport. In those pre-liberalisation days, there was only one national carrier. Incidentally, I was supposed to board the same flight as I was travelling from Patna to Lucknow, while the noted singer was flying to New Delhi.</p>.<p>This was my debut flight and I, barely 13-year-old, was so awe-struck and nervous at the airport that I could not muster enough courage to even greet the singer. Inside the aircraft, I saw him sitting in the front row — calm, cool and composed. </p>.<p>I took a deep breath, regained my composure and walked up to him: “You mesmerised everyone, yesterday. Autograph, please!!!”</p>.<p>Mahendra Kapoor smiled and asked me: “<span class="italic">Beta, kya naam hai aapka?"</span></p>.<p>I said, “Abhay Kumar. I watched your programme yesterday throughout the night sitting on the bonnet of my father’s car.”</p>.<p>“To Abhay, With love. Mahendra Kapoor.” The veteran singer gave me his autograph, with a disarming smile. This was my first autograph. And in those days, much more precious than the present-day selfies.</p>
<p>Meeting a celebrity and getting an autograph is a dream many cherish. It was mine too ever since I shifted to Patna from a nondescript place Dumka (now in Jharkhand) where I was studying in a missionary school. In those days, Patna was the hub of musical soiree during Durga Puja and Diwali, besides Saraswati Puja.</p>.<p>Celebrities like veteran singer Mahendra Kapoor, actress-cum-singer Sulakshana Pandit, Shehnai maestro Bismillah Khan, violinist V G Jog, Birju Maharaj (<span class="italic">Kathak</span>) and many other classical performers would fly down to Patna for the stage show during the three-day musical night organised annually at Patna’s Gandhi Maidan.</p>.<p>This was in the 70s and 80s, much before the internet and mobile invaded our privacy and made our lives more mechanical. This was an era where you could see and meet a celebrity face-to-face, sit for hours late in the night and watch them perform live on the stage.</p>.<p>There were no SUVs in those days. Well-off people would gather in their old but well-maintained Ambassador cars and Fiat to avoid entering the venue. The luckier ones would manage ‘VIP passes’ and rush straight into the earmarked space.</p>.<p>So, one Dussehra evening, I told my father that I have to watch the celebrities perform live from close quarters. He tried his best, but could not arrange the VIP pass. So he did the next best thing. He took me in his brand new Fiat and parked his car quite close to the stage where the veteran singer Mahendra Kapoor was singing one musical hit after another — ‘<span class="italic">Neele gagan ke taley’, ‘Mere desh ki dharti’, and ‘Fakira chal chala chal’</span>. The last number was a chart-buster from Shashi Kapoor-Shabana Azmi starrer ‘<span class="italic">Fakira</span>’ and made the audience crave for more with ‘once more, once more’ chanting.</p>.<p>The next day Mahendra Kapoor was to board an Indian Airlines flight from Patna airport. In those pre-liberalisation days, there was only one national carrier. Incidentally, I was supposed to board the same flight as I was travelling from Patna to Lucknow, while the noted singer was flying to New Delhi.</p>.<p>This was my debut flight and I, barely 13-year-old, was so awe-struck and nervous at the airport that I could not muster enough courage to even greet the singer. Inside the aircraft, I saw him sitting in the front row — calm, cool and composed. </p>.<p>I took a deep breath, regained my composure and walked up to him: “You mesmerised everyone, yesterday. Autograph, please!!!”</p>.<p>Mahendra Kapoor smiled and asked me: “<span class="italic">Beta, kya naam hai aapka?"</span></p>.<p>I said, “Abhay Kumar. I watched your programme yesterday throughout the night sitting on the bonnet of my father’s car.”</p>.<p>“To Abhay, With love. Mahendra Kapoor.” The veteran singer gave me his autograph, with a disarming smile. This was my first autograph. And in those days, much more precious than the present-day selfies.</p>