The Pangs of First Love ... at Age Nine ... With Amitabh Bachchan
By Puloma Mukherjee

My entire family tried to talk me out of it. My mother and grandmother begged and pleaded. "He is too old for you, this would never work!!" They all said. We were inundated with phone calls from concerned relatives and friends. My exasperated mother could only say “It’s of no use, don’t try to convince her, she has made up her mind, she wouldn’t listen to anyone".

"Are you crazy? I mean, I like him too but I wouldn't dream of MARRYING him!" my best friend said.

"You don’t know the pangs of yearning and love. You only like him, but it’s very different when you love someone enough to want to marry him. Someday you will understand." I explained wisely.

My mother was right, I had made up my mind. As a fully grown individual of 8, I didn’t need all these people to tell me what to do. Besides, when his ladylove is right here, is it fair for Mr.B to romance around with these silly women in the movies? I had to do something about it.

Thankfully, my father was the only one who understood and respected my true feelings. "Sure honey, next time when we go to Bombay, we will stop by at Mr. Bachchan's place and ask him if he'd marry my little girl. Ok?" Now this is a truly wise man, I thought. At least he is not like all these silly people who don’t understand that in matters of the heart, age doesn’t really count as much. Surely Mr. B would understand.

I was consoled and happy. I eagerly prepared to see Mr. B, the only love of my life. I dreamt of all the great places we'd go to together - Yeh Kahan Aa Gaye Hum. We’d sing merrily in the marigold fields or pledge our love to each other under the shady bliss of a tree ... Kabhi Kabhi Mere Dil Mein or just bask in each others company on a lake in Venice Do Lafzon Ki Hai, Dil Ki Kahani.

A year later, although my resolve had marginally weakened because of my busy schedule at school and my practice as a shrink offering advice to the neighborhood children, I was still very excited about finally making that trip to Bombay. Especially since our family friend who knew Mr. B very well had invited us over to a party. The nice gentleman from Bombay promised me that Mr. B would also be invited. This was it. I knew the moment had come. I was finally going to pop the question. This was all I had ever been waiting for, for so long now. My hopes and dreams were finally about to come true. Yeh Ladki Hai Ya Shola sang Mr. B to me that night.

Full of anticipation and excitement and dressed in my best clothes, I duly went to our friend's party accompanied by my parents, as every girl should when that crucial time in her life arrives. The memory of that evening is so vivid. When we arrived, I met another girl. "You know, Amitabh Bachchan is going to come here today!!!” she said excitedly. "I know", I calmly replied, and decided to keep the details to myself.

"I have been waiting for this day for so long, I have seen ALL his movies..... He is SO Handsome, I totally love him!!" Now this girl was crossing her limits. What does she mean by "She totally loves him"?

Then, she made the most preposterous declaration "When I grow up I am going to marry Amitabhji!" ...The cheek of this WOMAN!! Does she even know what she is talking about? How could she even dream of marrying Mr. B?? How ridiculous!!! Doesn’t she know that a man can only marry one woman??

But I knew better than to react to the inanity of this girl's suggestions. She shall see for herself, I thought, when Mr. B comes and holds me in his arms and takes me away. I will invite her to our wedding, I decided. I could totally picture Mr. B serenading me with a Dilbar Mere, Kab Tak Mujhe.

While I was lost in my reverie, He came. Accompanied. But I didn’t even notice who he was with. He was the tallest creature I had seen in the 9 years of my life. After 25 years, the situation hasn’t changed much, because ever since then, "Tall" has a different meaning.

Clad in a white kurta and churidar. He smiled and folded his hands in a Namaste. I distinctly remember the subtle whiff of his cologne. "Kaise hai aap(how are you)? It’s been a while," he said as he greeted our host. A patchy array of Mr. B songs came gushing to me. He was here! He who told me and my friends stories of the kid and the tiger in Mr. Natwarlal, Mere Doston, Mere Sathiyon Ek Kissa Suno, he who knew exactly how to make me smile when I was bitter with a Rote Rote Hasna Sikho, he who taught me what love is O Sathee Rey Tere Bina bhi Kya Jina, he who ... and today he was right here, in flesh and blood, in front of me.

I tried to calm down and collect myself. I knew this was an important day. Meanwhile the cheeky woman had disappeared. Now I knew I had to act fast. I wasn’t about to let her steal my thunder. The host went about introducing some of the people at the party, I correctly timed our host, and was by my father's side by the time our host was about to introduce us to Mr. B. I had gone over with my father at least a 100 times about how the proposal was to be made to Mr. B. After all, I couldn’t possibly bring it up myself, could I? I prayed and hoped that my father wouldn’t mess it up and all would go well.

"This is Mr. Mukherjee. He is here from Dubai for a few days." said our host. "How are you? Very nice to meet you. How long are you here for?" The rich baritone rings in my ears to this day. Our host looked at small-sized me and said "And this is Mr. Mukherjee's lovely daughter, possibly your most devout fan".

Fan! I wasn't his fan! I was his lady love!

All I could hear was the beating of my heart. My father lovingly said "My little daughter (Dad, this is not when you call me little!!) has made the most important decision of her life. She has decided the man she wants to marry." Things are not going as planned, but that’s ok, I can handle it.

The 6-feet something man bent all the way down to less than half his size, and said "Really, and who might that lucky guy be?" I was going to explode. How could I tell him I wanted to marry him? But I had to. I coyly said, "You".

He threw his head back, closed his eyes, and laughed till he went red. "Really? That’s wonderful," he said sweetly. All my prayers were answered. Could this really be true, or was I just dreaming? Was someone going to rudely wake me up? I was the happiest girl in the whole world. I was going to marry the only man I ever loved. My eyes lit up, I could already hear the wedding bells ... Surkh Jode Ki Yeh Jagmagahat.

He said that, gave me a kiss on my cheek and walked away. I gaped in shock and dismay. This is not what I had thought. I thought he was going to pick me up, hold me and take me away and we were going to sing Tere Mere Milan Ki Yeh Raina.

What happened to all that? Isn't that the way it always goes? Maybe we have to get in touch with him again and talk about the details. Or maybe that other girl met him before me ... maybe he will get in touch with my father.

The rest of the evening passed with me following Mr. B around while keeping an eye on the offender, making sure she did not make a marriage proposal to my Mr. B.

I woke up the next morning to be informed by my mother, that I went to sleep at some point at the party the night before, and had to be carried home. I cried. I didn’t say goodbye to Mr. B. ..
"When we call him to decide the details of the wedding, I will apologize," I decided.

We came back to Dubai; I got busy with school, Mr. B never called and despite my repeated pleas, my parents never followed up with the details with Mr. B.

Eventually, my little 9 year old heart realized it had been broken. Oh well, at least he knew of my undying love for him. I stared at the moon that night...Neela Aasman So Gaya.

I was victimized by Bachchan philia too early in life for the wounds to ever heal. Years later when I had become a little more like all the silly people who told me marrying an old star was stupid, I went to a restaurant with my boyfriend where a new revival of Kabhi Kabhi was being played featuring an older, aged-wine avatar of Mr. B. My helpless boyfriend looked on, unable to fathom my fascination for this older, aged star, who was not, by any stretch of my boy friend’s Non-Bollywood, non-Indian upbringing, a good candidate for a lifelong romantic fixation. I sighed.

I have moved on though. Life goes on. Oh and by the way, when someone told me that the Indian film industry is called Bollywood, I was perplexed at first but then I knew why. "Bollywood? Why Bollywood? Is it Bollywood with a 'B' like in Bachchan?