It was eleven o’clock at night. The press club was starting to empty out. We were also getting ready to leave when one of our friends, out of habit, said, “Just two minutes, please. I’ll be right back.”
Someone’s voice came, “Sit down, he won’t be back for at least fifteen minutes. He’s gone to the washroom. His stomach has been grumbling since before the masala dosa arrived, and on top of that, he ate it too.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
We sat down at another table to wait, where a few acquaintances were engrossed in conversation. Despite the loud laughter around, one of the very senior reporters from a well-known newspaper group remained serious, deeply involved in his discussion. I moved closer to listen more attentively.
He was saying, "We stayed up till three last night finalizing the cover for tomorrow’s magazine."
"Why?"
"Oh, at the last minute, the editor noticed something was wrong with the photo of the woman playing on the cover."
"What? Was there something missing?" A couple of people laughed.
But he didn’t laugh. He continued seriously, “A string from her skirt was visible near her thighs, fluttering in the wind.”
“Ugh! A mountain out of a molehill.” Two or three people laughed loudly.
But he still didn’t laugh. With expert precision and seriousness, he explained, “The deputy was summoned, the one who had edited the photo.”
“And then?”
“What do you think? They argued for an hour. The deputy kept explaining that if the bra strap peeking out from her waist near her neck is fine, then what harm could this thin, white cotton string do?”
But the editor didn’t budge. He said, ‘Try to understand, seeing an unwanted website isn’t as harmful as seeing its link!’
“But that’s only true in the case of something ‘unwanted,’ right?”
The gentleman snapped, “What do you mean by that?”
The conversation was getting interesting, but our friend had returned, and we got up to leave.
As we left, one friend commented, “Point to be noted... the link is harmful, not the website. Got it? Keep that in mind next time.”
A famous poet's line came to mind, La pila de saqiya... I'll speak meaningfully once I'm sober.
Gradually, the atmosphere in the country was changing, and the public was starting to treat athletes like stars, just like politicians and actors. The sensations on the sports field were now becoming sensations in daily life too. Advertising agencies were starting to notice this shift.
It seemed like the basics of advertising and publicity in this diverse country were changing. And this change was happening because it was occurring globally. It was perhaps a global transformation.
Now it was becoming difficult, or rather impossible, to say what was truly good. The eyes that once determined quality were fading away with age, and they were being replaced by those who only cared about what would be seen. It was no longer about being connoisseurs of beauty, but about predicting which content could be branded as beauty. What would be seen—whether it be out of preference, surprise, disgust, fear, greed, or simply because there was no other choice—it just had to be seen!
Big ad companies were emerging in the country, and their job was no longer to find things, but to create them.
This was all public, global, time-bound. But what did this have to do with Prakash Padukone’s story?
Yet it did.
And when it did, it had to connect with Prakash’s story in some way or the other.
When two ideas, two trends, two currents exist in the same time period, they are bound to collide somewhere.
There were some things in Prakash’s life and story that were as clear as a shining crystal.
Prakash was not just an excellent player, but also a serious, handsome, tall, and graceful man. He was such an obedient, shy, and dutiful son to his parents that he even relied on them to choose his life partner. Despite traveling the world, he hadn’t used his own eyes or heart for this purpose.
And when a partner is chosen through an arranged marriage, often after careful consideration, it’s not just accepted on the basis of emotions. Hence, his wife Ujjala was also as gracious, cultured, and well-mannered as he was.
Whether or not anyone had expectations from the children of such a couple, it was certain that they would be disciplined, cultured, sensible, and polite. Beauty could be added to this list. Both daughters of this family certainly lived up to these expectations.
In any child’s upbringing and personality development, three main forces generally play a role. One is the element that comes from the father, another from the mother’s personality, and the third from the environment in which they are raised.
Prakash’s children had witnessed, from an early age, the respect people had for their father, his passion for sports, the crowd’s excitement for victory, the camera’s hunger for that perfect moment, and the media’s close relationship with sensation.
They had already begun to understand the modern world’s rules from their cradles, rules that take ordinary children a lifetime to grasp.
Prakash and Ujjala, despite being travelers of the world’s peaks, remained completely “down to earth.” This trait was passed on to their children too.
Simplicity combined with wealth and humility, with sophistication and talent, creates something extraordinary. And if by fortune, beauty is added to this mix, history is made. Such combinations occur once in a while, maybe even after decades.
And when they do, they flourish immensely.
