Two Wednesdays

When idols fall...

Two Kannada idols, Rajkumar and Vishnuvardhan both died on a Wednesday, and as it happens I was in Bangalore on both the occasions, holidaying. Rajkumar had died in the summer (April) of 2006, while Vishnu passed away on December 30. Days when the city hurt while fans grieved violently , with banners, stones and glass shards in hand. There was no guarantee that you would escape the eyes of fans which seemed to carry out a sortie. ...

Death has a way of announcing itself to you, even if you have made a conscious decision to switch off and unwind. I was not tuned to the radio, and television was a complete no-no during vacations for me (news updates are a quick glance while checking my in-box), but a day before New Year’s Eve, I got the creepy feeling all over again. I cannot recall the exact face or phrase when I was informed that Rajkumar had died— but it was at a traffic signal as I was entering the garden city. Some intuitive urge made me roll down a window and ask, ‘What’s up?’ A complete stranger, took off his helmet and told me to ‘watch it. Rajkumar has died. Things can get ugly.’ Suddenly the roads became a frenzy of people and vehicles all rushing around, and then a deafening silence.. like ants which vanish when you disturb them. Then it began. The noise of a stone hitting a iron shutter, and then a glass facade, before an eerie scream which was a half way sob rang out.

The roads emptied fast, but I was stuck.. I had to go through Gandhi market . Luckily Pushparaj (the driver of the car) knew the back alleys of the city and the green Mitsubishi ( that I had borrowed from a friend) some times rested on the pavement before warily stepping around a corner. Racing from the City to the other end of the city at Domlur Layout promised safety—comparative at least. But no. There was glass everywhere on the road, cars were pelted, stomped upon and bashed up with anything that came to hand...it was a long evening, and a longer summer night for visitors and residents alike....

The winter death of Vishnuvardhan evoked similar mourning, the only difference being it was mercifully confined to a few localities. And by Thursday, dignity was at the wake. The fact that many were offices were functioning with skeletal staff (due to the year end holiday plans of many) also helped to keep damage to lower levels...and I drove back two days later..mulling over two other funerals that fans had pushed me into.. of Annadurai, when as a nine year old, I was atop the terrace of EVK’s house, but had to leave when grief turned violent, and again to that December when MGR died... the surreal picture of all the roads strewn with flowers, glass pieces, broken slippers, pieces of torn fabric and blotches of blood and water that seemed to be tears...

Death of course continued to be proud, and waited like a hand maiden until the fans’ grief played itself out... and a new year began.

Will future leaders leave a loving, last wish, seeking restraint? However, doubt if that would work, given how emotional death is, for all of us....

Eom/bdr