This story is from August 24, 2007

How do you define stardom?

TNN / Aug 24, 2007, 00:00 IST

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You don’t have to define stardom. You just have to see it.

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Amitabh Bachchan (TOI Photo)You don’t have to define stardom. You just have to see it.
I define it by what I’ve seen. And, to paraphrase Gulzar saab’s words, “Star ko star hi rehne do koi naam na do.”
You don’t have to define stardom. You just have to see it. Stardom is Mr Bachchan sitting all alone on the railway-platform set of Kamalistan studio waiting for his next shot in Vipul Shah’s Aankhen.
Everyone stood at least two yards away. The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign was up in the onlookers’ minds. No one seemed to be in the mood to disturb him, until I gently walked up to him and asked, “May I join you?” The ice of isolation broke. It’s what a celebrity possesses without trying. Lataji has it in abundance.

The first time when I went to meet her at the Shiv Sena Bhavan many years ago, she hadn’t arrived for rehearsals.
Hordes of people stood in hushed silence waiting. A lady with a child and a garland smiled and asked me, “What time will she arrive?” I’ll never forget the tone in which that woman who had come from Satara spoke.
Stardom is what Shah Rukh Khan has. To have anyone write a book like Still Reading Khan as SRK’s journo-pal Mushtaq Sheikh has done, is no less than building a word-wise Taj Mahal.

The book took four years of Mushtaq’s life. No ordinary star gets a book like that, or fame like what I’ve seen. SRK was shooting for One 2 Ka 4 when I first met him. “Let’s go home. I want you to meet my son and wife,” SRK had suddenly said.
We hopped into a taxi and drove to Mannat, as his security guards chased us in filmy fashion. Later, the taxi driver asked, “Was that really him? He sat next to me.
If I tell my wife this story tonight, she’ll kill me for lying or for meeting Shah Rukh without her.” Stardom is Salman Khan. When we walked into a popular restaurant everyone feigned non-chalance. But, I could see all eyes glued to the star.
Later, I met him at a photo shoot. When he waved and came across the room, the others in the room smiled enviously at me.
And, I remembered an anecdote about Shabana Azmi and Khushwant Singh. Once they flew together and the man asked Shabana to carry his suitcase at the terminal. “So, everyone will see Kaifi Azmi’s daughter carrying my luggage,” he quipped.
The true hallmark of stardom is when you are totally oblivious of hundreds and thousands of staring eyes. This is often easier said than done. But, the real stars manage it wonderfully.
Sitting at a cosy eatery in Andheri, Mumbai, with Karan Johar, we spotted a fading vamp from the 1980s who had a brief spell of semi-success.
She waited to catch Karan’s attention. And, after her skimpy lunch at the dark corner table she waited for us to finish and, walk out, so that she could exchange a few words with him.
It was a heartrending moment, and one that I’ll never forget. It provided the view from the other end of stardom’s spectrum. Success is such a fugitive companion.
One day you are at the top. Soon you’re talking to a drunk, faded ex-queen whom you dread to speak to because she cries after every sentence.
She cries for those who never made it, for those who made it and slipped, and for those who are up there, but are bound to fall off.
I’ve heard Nadira would beg people to come and visit her and then prolong their stay by providing them drinks and food.
So, how do you define stardom except by the emptiness that follows when it’s gone?

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