I stared at the message on my phone for a few minutes. It read: 'Will is no more.' Will, or William was a dear friend. Our families were close, and related somewhere down the Anglo-Indian ancestral tree. He was like this visiting sibling to my sister and me, who would wow us each time with his cool books, and cooler ideas.
His loss earlier this month has left a void for many reasons. In that suddenness of the news and the helplessness that anybody who has lost a loved one during this pandemic, has experienced, I found myself seeking solace in frames from my childhood. We'd spend overnighters at his home that were filled with comic book reading sessions, followed by endless debates if Batman or Spider-Man had better powers, or why Obelix and Asterix never changed their attire. Tintin was off-limits to scrutiny – and thanks to Will – we sat on rollercoasters with the mad bunch to the Moon, Tibet, and oh yes, learnt the meaning of barnacles.
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During summer vacations, when our mothers would whip up lazy luncheons, movie marathons would take over as every blockbuster or classic was rented to watch on his VCR [that coveted home treasure of the 1980s]. It's how I was introduced to Mary Poppins and her umbrella, Bruce Lee and his gravity-defying stunts, Sherlock Holmes's astute judgement calls, Ben-Hur's Biblical heroics and Superman's mind-boggling strength. The family owned a turntable where I heard some of the most memorable tunes that only records can produce, be it The Beatles, Aretha Franklin, Harry Belafonte or Def Leppard.
Apart from those house visits, we'd exchange titles from our respective collections and got pretty competitive, too! Even my mother would talk books with him, because somehow [this was the pre-Internet era] he kept abreast of the latest music, movie and book releases. Later, when the Computer Age dawned upon us, and owning a PC was the coolest thing, he'd invite us over to dabble with the wonders of this machine.
With time, our paths drifted, and the visits also dried up, yet each time we met, some aspect of pop culture would enter our chats. As recently as last year, when we caught up after his illness got the better of him, all we did was discuss the latest in the Marvel universe. My brief episodic time travel had thrown up a realisation — Will had undoubtedly been a key cultural influencer in my life.
It got me thinking — apart from my mother and a few inspiring teachers — who were those other unintentional players who became my literary and cultural educators? Sure, museums, libraries, heritage buildings and theatre have played vital roles in nourishing the senses in my 20s, but who came before that?
The genial librarian at my neighbourhood lending library was one. We even had a name for him – Ivan Lendl – because he faintly resembled the Czech tennis champ! His reading list was in sync with the times; he went to great lengths to acquire titles based on our suggestions. I recall the day the library had to shut down due to sky-high rents. "Sorry madam," he told my mom, "Please take whatever book you like, free of cost." His stuttering delivery underlined that heart-breaking moment.
I had this visiting uncle who'd take me along for book and music buys in "town". He retired from the Reserve Bank of India, [who didn't in those days!]. He knew Fort and its gullies like the back of his hand. From Strand's bargain sales to Smoker's Corner, where I discovered the delights of Dahl and Dr Seuss, he opened up a new world outside the confines of my suburban existence. We'd walk down Sir PM Road and DN Road, pick new music at Hiro, and go berserk scanning the second hand booksellers' wares by the pavement near Hutatma Chowk. Sated after our purchases, he would then help me board a train from VT back home, as I held on to my stash of comics, reads and tapes stuffed in my tiny haversack.
There were others too – my sister's guitar tutor who made me appreciate music; a friend's aunt who could recite Shakespeare with such romanticism that you'd want to read all of his works at one go.
What would we be without these influencers who've quietly enriched our lives? Spare a minute and tell the ones who've nurtured yours before they go silently into the night.
mid-day's Features Editor Fiona Fernandez relishes the city's sights, sounds, smells and stones...wherever the ink and the inclination takes her. She tweets @bombayana
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