The First Day

by A. W. L. Silva

Today was the first day of shooting of the new heroine. The heroine was seated on a velvet cushioned stool and several make-up artists were attending to her. The dressing table in front of her was strewn with the paraphernalia of beauty care imported from London, Paris, Hollywood etc.

There was a time when this heroine had to dispute for weeks with her husband just for an ordinary lipstick. At this moment her husband Madan was silently seated in a corner of this make up room and was musing over these things. What a difficult life was that?

Three years ago Madan was a clerk in an office in Delhi. He was earning barely one hundred and fifty Rupees. It was a life of poverty and scarcity, beset with problems and misery. It was a life which had no sky... a life which had no flower... a life which had no smile.
It was a life half starved, dragged and jolted. It was like an old stinking tarpaulin tent tied to the pegs of days, months and years and it produced the feeling of a stalking shadow. Madan wanted to destroy those pegs and he was waiting for a chance to do so. And Malik Girdharilal once gave him this chance.

Malik Girdharilal was a superintendent of that office where Madan worked. A vacancy cropped up in this office for a post of assistant superintendent for which Madan also applied. Madan was qualified for the post and what more he was a favourite of Malik Girdharilal.

When Malik Girdharilal read his application he called Madan and said "Madan there are some mistakes in your application." "So please tell me some way out." said Madan.

After a pause Malik Girdharilal returned his application saying "Tonight I will come to your place and then I will tell you that."

Madan was very happy. He rushed home and told his wife to prepare a special dinner. Premlata prepared a sumptuous dinner with great enthusiasm. Early that evening Malik Girdharilal came to Madan's house and he brought a bottle of whisky along with him.

Premlata soon started serving the bites. With the fourth round of liquor when Premlata was about to serve a dish, Malik Girdharilal went out of control. He caught Premlatha's hand and said, "Premlata, you also sit with us and have a sip of whisky.

Your husband is going to be my assistant." Premlata shuddered from head to toe. Her eyes flooded with tears, for until that day no one except for her husband had ever laid hands on her body.

The plate laden with phulki fell down and broke into pieces, and Madan shouted saying, "Malik Girdharilal! How dare you touch my wife." And after that incident Madan lost his chance.

In his place Sardar Avtar Singh was selected. And, a few days later Madan was dismissed from his post on a false charge. For a few days Madan was going from office to office in Delhi looking for jobs.

At last Madan decided to go to Bombay, because his wife was beautiful. Madan's friends were of the opinion that Premlata was as beautiful as Naseem, Waheeda Rehman, Madhu Bala, etc, the top stars of the era. So he will take her to Bombay. There are good prospects of promotion in Delhi for husbands with beautiful wives.

If Madan actually got the promotion his new salary would be two hundred and fifty Rupees- an increment of just ninety Rupees for which he will have to pawn the honour of the family. This is sheer foolishness.

The best thing is to go to Bombay. But when Madan broke this news to Premlata she did not agree. She was a simple house wife type of a girl who liked to do the household chores - cooking, sweeping, sewing, etc. No, she would never go to Bombay. May be she may work in a school. When Madan failed to make her agree for this he beat her. After two three days beating and a few bruises, she agreed to go to Bombay.

When they got down at the Bori Bandar station they had only a few personal belongings and Premlata's jewellery with them.

They lodged for a few days at the Kaliya Devi Temple Dharmashala and started looking for some apartment. But the total value of Madan's cash and Premlata's jewellery was not sufficient to rent a house.

Therefore they left the Dharmashala and settled down in a hut in the village of Gore Gaon. While lodging in that hut Madan started going from one studio to another taking Premlata along with him. Days and months elapsed like this and eventually they were reduced to starvation. They had to sell all their belongings. Finally what was left was only the clothes they were wearing, - they too were worn and torn.

"Your dress has come!" an assistant director announced in a loud voice. Madan who was dozing woke up and saw that a helper of the assistant director was bringing the new dress of the new heroine. It was a very costly dress, extremely beautiful and gorgeous.

Having finished the make-up, the heroine went to the dressing room to change. On seeing her majestic gait, a smile of victory appeared on Madan's face. He made every sacrifice to see this day.

He ate chick peas for meals and wore his dirty shirt and trouser he went from one film producer's office to the next in the blazing hot sun, or drenched in the heavy evening showers. And today is the first day of his success.

It was Chaman Bhai who showed him the first step to success. Chaman Bhai used to supply dresses on rent to film producers. Quite often he used to meet Madan and Premlata in the offices of the film producers or studios. One day when he met them in a film producer's office, Chaman Bhai called Madan and asked: "Did you manage to get something?" "No." Madan replied. "You are a real donkey."

Now Madan is well used to getting reprimanded like this, and hence kept quiet. For some time Chaman Bhai was staring at Madan in anger, and finally he said: "Tonight I will come to your house and then I will tell you some trick." On hearing this Premlata tried in vain to conceal her youthfulness with the torn end of her saree.

Where ever they go some sort of Malik Girdharilal appears. But that evening Chaman Bhai did not do anything wrong after taking liquor at their place.

To be continued next week

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