If Netaji met David Dhawan

Veteran actor Om Puri's wife, Nandita Puri is out with her third book that takes a hard look at the gritty world of pre-Independence politics and present-day Bollywood through the lives of two fiercely independent women, who refuse to bow to convention. Part-fiction part-fact, she calls it, but we invite you to a 'spot the hidden Bollywood star in the character line-up' contest

Nandita Puri is no stranger to controversy. Her last book, Unlikely Hero: Om Puri, released in 2009, raised quite a few eyebrows, including husband Om Puri's, for the brutally honest right-down-to-the-details approach the writer-journalist adopted.

(For those who missed it: she revealed Om Puri's boyhood sexual adventures that the actor took exception to, rather publicly, in an interview. While most believed the couple were staging the 'fight' to up book sales, the two fought, and made up, even as readers smacked their lips and turned the pages of the immensely readable biography).



Puri denies the controversy was staged, admitting that it left a "bad aftertaste".

But she has learnt her lesson, she says. Two Worlds, her new book launched at the 6th Jaipur Literary Festival yesterday, is a part-fact part-fiction take. "I've been working on it for six years, and the story spans a century ufffd from pre-Independence Brahmo Samaj Calcutta to present-day Mumbai, with a completely different language, and milieu in each of the sections," says Puri, who has planted historical figures like Subhash Chandra Bose in a contemporary setting, throwing in Bollywood personalities Rajesh Khanna and David Dhawan to give a realistic flavour to her work of fiction.

Many of her characters, especially in Book 2 of the novel, a segment set in Mumbai, are inspired by Bollywood actors. But Puri is quick to clarify that the work is more fiction than fact.

"Rehana (an icon supposedly having a roaring affair with a male superstar), for instance, is a mix of two or three actors (and no, Rekha isn't one of them). Because I belong to the milieu, I have used much of what I saw every day. But they are all fictional characters. A lot, after all, goes into creating a character."

Puri admits Two Worlds is a novel that can easily generate controversy, but she wants everyone to read it.

"The book is far more than just an anthology of fictional characters based on Bollywood personalities."

Book 1

One warm summer evening that year, the Sens were invited to dinner at the Bose house on Elgin Road. Like Somenath, Janakinath Bose was a well-known lawyer and the two were friends. Of his sons, Sarat and Subhash, Sarat was about Ela's age. He was well-settled in his career and married with two children. It was the younger son Subhash, who was a source of worry for his father. He had passed the civil service examinations and was ranked first in English but refused to join as a protest against British imperialism. Everyone thought he was being foolish.

News of Subhash's involvement in a number of anti-imperialist activities had also reached Ela, who was naturally curious to meet him. The Sen seniors had set up the dinner gathering for a different reason. Janaki Bose had a distant nephew, a poor cousin, who worked for his uncle and was a bright young man. His name was Nemaikanto and though in his early thirties, he was still unmarried. Somenath had discreetly mentioned to Janaki that he was seeking a match with the boy for Ela. Though the Boses were god-fearing Hindus, Somenath was now desperate to arrange Ela's marriage. A decent, Hindu man would do just fine. Unaware of the plan, Ela went along with her parents for the dinner party.

The fare was typical Bengali, served in the traditional manner in huge kansha thalas or brass plates surrounded by several small bowls. It was a seven-course meal ufffd starting with shukto (bitter gourd cooked in ghee), dal (lentils), begun bhaja (fried aubergines), fish curry, prawn curry and kasha mangsho (mutton curry). Of course no Bengali meal could end without an array of deserts. There was sandesh and rosogolla from K.C. Das and mishti doi (sweetened yoghurt) and boondey from Bhim Chandra Nag. After dinner Somenath and Janakinath sat down for a smoke, puffing on their gorgoras. Sarat Chandra and Nemaikanto were immersed in a serious conversation but Subhash Chandra sat by, looking bored. In the next room, the ladies were busy chatting as Prabhavati Debi, Janaki Bose's wife made paans for the other ladies in the room.

Roma Debi was admiring the jewellery adorning Sarat's young wife. 'Young girls look nice when they wear gold jewellery. Look at my Ela. I keep telling her she should not leave her hands bare, but she doesn't listen to me. All she is interested in those dull khadis and shapeless blouses. This nationalism has got too deep into the system of these youngsters.'

'You are telling me. Look at Subhash. He has no care for the future. He even let go such a prestigious civil service post. All because of this nationalism. We have tried convincing him to take up a job and settle down, but in vain.'

Ela smiled. She could not endure such conversation. She knew the next topic would harp on her single status.

She hurried as discreetly as possible towards the spacious verandah, which ran the entire length of the house.

Ela rested her elbows on the teak wooden rails. A shadow loomed behind her and she turned back to see Subhash Chandra. At 26, he was tall and handsome. His round spectacles made him look a little older and more mature.

'Would you mind if I join you?' Subhash smiled.

'Not at all,' Ela smiled back.

'Looks like the ladies could not hold your interest,' he said, gesturing towards the room she had left.

'It's not that. Just that my mother loves harping on her favourite topic and it sort of embarrasses me.'

'And what is that?' Subhash asked.

'My marriage. They are obsessed with it and want to marry me off to any man they can think of.'

'Then it's good you did not join the men there,' Subhash pointed to where the fathers were sitting, chatting over their gorgoras. 'They are trying their best to set you up with my cousin Nemai.' Subhash laughed naughtily.

'What!' Ela was a little shocked. 'Well I never suspected that!'

'Why, if I may ask, are you so set against marriage?' Subhash asked.u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0

'Well, I am not against marriage. It is just that, well, you will not understand. Thak.' Ela said.

'If you don't tell me, I will not understand. But, if you do, maybe I can help,' he said softly.

Ela looked up at him. For a Bengali, Subhash was quite tall, nearly six feet. There was something deep, something soft in those serious eyes. No man since David had had such a mesmerising effect on her. For a fleeting moment Ela wished she had been born five years later. Her expression changed and Subhash threw her a questioning look. Ela suddenly blushed and looked away, fearing he had read her thoughts. Then she told him about David.

'I see,' was all Subhash said. 'I do understand your predicament, Ela.'

Her name on his lips sounded soft and beautiful. She smiled at him and Subhash returned the smile. He held women like Ela in great respect, not because they defied social norms, but because they followed what they believed in. 'I do admire your courage though,' Subhash added.

'Now tell me, why are you shying away from marriage? Your mother was complaining about it a while ago. Do you have an English lady-love hidden away somewhere?' Ela asked mischievously.

'I wish it was as simple as that,' Subhash replied. 'But no. Marriage is the last thing I have in mind. Not now. Not for a while. Maybe, not at all.'

After some moments Ela finally broke the silence, 'Why? Have you taken a vow of celibacy?'

Subhash Bose laughed heartily. 'Do I look the celibate sort to you?' he asked with a wicked look. Then in all seriousness, Subhash told Ela his plans for his future. Plans to free his motherland from imperial shackles. First through gentle coaxing. Then if the rulers did not yield, he would use pressure. Build his own army of patriots and fight to free his motherland.

'My chosen path is risky and full of danger. I see no security or stability ahead for myself. How can I lead an innocent girl into such perils? My battle ahead is mine alone,' Subhash concluded.

Mesmerised, Ela asked, 'But what if someone should willingly join you in your struggles?'

'If that happens, I will deal with it. Right now I am alone and would like it that way for some time. Women are major distractions, you know.'

'I do not agree with you,' Ela said.

'Look, I think we had better go in. Otherwise our parents will worry we are hatching some anti-government plans out here.' Subhash said.

Ela laughed at the remark. 'I think you are right. We should go in.'

'And one more thing, Ela,' Subhash said as they were entering the room.

'Yes?' Ela said.

'I will see to it that you do not have to marry that cousin of mine,' Subhash grinned.

'Thank you.' Ela smiled back. She had full faith in his words.

Book 2

'Hello?' Oona answered the phone.

'Can I speak to Anand?' cooed a female voice sexily.

'Well, he is not home. Can I take a message?' Oona asked.

'And who am I speaking to?' the voice asked.

'I am his wife. Oona' Oona said.

'Well, Oona, this is Rehana Khan. I am a friend of Anand's.'

'Oh!' Oona exclaimed. 'I am quite a fan of yours.'

'Thank you. I wanted to invite Anand for a party at my place tomorrow evening. I wasn't aware he was married. I would love for you to come too. I live in the next building. Arcadia. The penthouse,' Rehana said.

'I know, I know. Anand told me. But he is out of town,' Oona said.

'That's alright. I want you to come. Be there eightish. And by the way, what are you good at cooking?'
Oona was a little puzzled. 'I think, mustard fish, Bengali style,' she said hesitantly.

'Hmm ufffdsounds good. I love fish,' Rehana purred, diva style. 'We are having potluck. Bring enough for about 15 of us. We will have fun. And I am looking forward to meeting you.'

Rehana Khan was an icon and Oona was flattered at being invited to her do. She went over sharp at 8 o'clock with a casserole of steaming mustard fish, which she had instructed the bai to cook. No one had arrived and Rehana herself was luxuriating in her bath. When they met, Rehana was warm and friendly and both sat down over a glass of wine. 'Tell me about yourself, Oona,' Rehana asked. The young Oona rattled on and on. Rehana found her innocence charming. They enjoyed each other's company till the guests finally began arriving.

First it was Sweety Khanna from the floor below. Sweety was a fresh divorcee, bitter about her ex-husband.

She went on and on about him and the women he was seeing. 'It's okay, honey. You don't own him now. So forget him. Move on in life,' Rehana told her.

'You don't understand. By the way, Oona you better be careful,' said Sweety, suddenly looking at Oona. 'Your husband, like mine, is a typical Punjabi and they make very dominating husbands.' Oona nodded in understanding.

'Oh, don't believe her,' Rehana laughed. 'Anand's such a sweet guy.' Oona bit back a sarcastic response to that.

The next to arrive was Dolly D'Souza, Rehana's next door neighbour. Oona thought she looked familiar. 'Have I seen you somewhere?' Oona asked.

'I don't remember seeing you though, maybe in the park?'

'Oh Dolly flies Indian Air,' Rehana interposed, 'Perhaps you two met on a flight?'

'No, I don't think so,' Dolly replied cautiously, turning away. Oona was puzzled.

Dolly had brought a case of Grover's white as her contribution for the evening. Sweety had brought grilled chicken in mushroom sauce. Later a couple of other girlfriends dropped by, one with a cottage cheese preparation whilst the other got jeera parathas. Rehana of course served the salads and peanuts with the drinks in her black and white Pottery Barn crockery. It matched the d ufffdcor of her apartment, where everything was in black and white, including the books on her shelves and the DVD cases. Even Rehana was dressed in black trousers and a white tee!

It was nearly ten when the first male guests arrived. Director Vindoo Chopra came in with his girlfriend; actor Randhir Kapoor with his ex-wife and finally, one of the hottest stars of Bollywood, Mona Ghatge. Mona was beautiful and friendly, but was soon completely sloshed. She took out her anger on Vindoo, whom she had dated a couple of months earlier. Vindoo looked embarrassed. Mona abused him of being a user, growing more and more shrill, till she tugged his girlfriend's little black dress off her shoulder, embarrassing the gathering.

Randhir had to physically carry Mona away and Vindoo got busy placating his near-hysterical girlfriend.

'Sad,' said Sweety to Oona. 'She is such a talented actress and yet she lets men and alcohol ruin her life. She changes men quicker than she changes her tampons. Every time she breaks up, she drowns her sorrows in alcohol; and every time she falls in love, she celebrates her happiness with alcohol. Another Meena Kumari in the making.' Oona felt genuinely sorry for Mona. A few minutes later, Dolly passed by, and Oona decided to ask Sweety about her.

'You know, Dolly looks so familiar and yet I am not able to place her. I am sure I have seen her before.'

'I'll refresh your memory for you. But on one condition,' Sweety piped up.

'What's that?'

'I want passes for the Filmdust Awards next month. Anandji will get them and you must give me one at least. Promise?'

'Okay, promise,' Oona laughed.

'If you read the papers some months ago, Dolly was in the news for all the wrong reasons. Her boyfriend is Vinodbhai, you know Big Bhai's right-hand man. Dolly flies Indian Air and a few months back she was caught smuggling ufffd cocaine stitched into her panties. She was in lock-up for a week before Vinod bailed her out,' Sweety relished every word as she recounted it to Oona.

'Of course, now I remember,' Oona said.

'She leads a lavish lifestyle. Apparently her fabulous penthouse was Vinod's gift for losing her job. Lucky girl,'
Sweety continued. 'She throws the most amazing parties. She is a generous host but a great bore. Great food and wine flowing freely at her dos. Not like Rehana ufffd she is such a miser. Every time she hosts a dinner, the guests have to bring their own food and drinks. She only provides the crockery and cutlery!'

'Then why do you bother to come?' Oona asked Sweety.

'Arrey, to socialise. To catch up with the Bollywood crowd. It's nice to be seen at Rehana's dos.' Spotting Palsekar bhau, the yesteryears Marathi screen heartthrob, Sweety abandoned Oona, walking away as she practised her best smile.

It was nearly 3 am and the party was going strong. Oona was feeling a little high though she had managed to space out her drinks. She was no longer hungry. She went up to Rehana and said, 'It was lovely. I enjoyed myself. I must go now.' 'I am glad. We must have you here more often. Are you sure you can go alone?' Rehana asked.

'Of course, I am only next door. Besides, the gateman will be there. Don't worry. I'll be fine,' Oona said.

'Come, let me walk you to the door.' Rehana looked as lovely off screen as she looked on screen. 'You and I must catch up over coffee or dinner when Anand is not around. Just the two of us,' Rehana said huskily, obviously high and happy. But Oona was nevertheless flattered. As she reached the door, Rehana went out and pressed the elevator button.

'Don't worry,'' Oona said, 'I will manage. You look after your guests.'

'Okay, bye,' Rehana hugged her tight. As the lift arrived, she felt her breasts being squeezed. Rehana smiled. Oona smiled back weakly and entered the lift. Alone, she rubbed her eyes to bring her back to reality. Was she dreaming or was it for real? Did the Rehana Khan, who was supposed to have been having it off with India's superstar, the Badshah, did she really go for her boobs? 'Anything is possible in Bollywood,' Anand had once told her. Walking home, Oona repeated it to herself and giggled.