Woman of letters: A heroine in my book

Dear Farah,
Congratulations, badhaiyon and Happy New Year!

It is Wednesday night as I write this, it will be Sunday morning when you read this, and in the meantime your labour of love, your Bolly extravaganza, your grand passion, the movie that has spent almost a decade gestating in that giant Amusement Park that is your brain, will have released.

In fact even as I write this, through the breathless static of digital and electronic media, I know you are in Dubai, at the premier of Happy New Year, sucking in the colossal adulation of the movie-going public around the world.
The combined impact of larger-than-life stars like Shah Rukh Khan, Deepika Padukone and Abhsihek Bachchan, in a film produced by no less than Red Chillies and Gauri Khan, that's said to be the biggest the industry has ever seen, directed by you, a director who has not only given the industry two rousing blockbusters already with the same SRK, but also some of the most iconic dance numbers — is, to say the least, staggering.

But this is not why I write to you dear Farah. That your film, created with so much love, passion, hard work and the dint of your deep seated understanding of commercial cinema, is a hit, is not only mine, but most people's ardent hope.

We need big blockbusting gargantuan hits. The industry needs them, the economy needs them and God knows the ordinary filmgoer, coping with life's every day disappointments and disenchantments, needs them the most.
So it is with much enthusiasm that writing this on Wednesday night, more than 48 hours before the film releases in India, that I pray to all the propitious Goddesses of the Diwali season to bless your film's performance at the box office.

But I write to you for another reason. I write to you to record my growing admiration for you as a human being, according to me, a matter far more important than the box office performance of a film.

Because, throughout the making of Happy New Year, from people I've known on its unit, I have been hearing of nothing but instances of your peerless humanity, your unmatched emotional IQ, your kindness and your concern for all those you engage with, be it dazzling superstars or humble spot boys.

No man is a hero to his valet goes the saying, which when translated points to the fact that even the greatest amongst us, have a few human failings, a few weak spots, a few moments of slip up where we give in to our negative selves seen by those closest to us. But from those who worked with you on the film Farah, I have heard how at the centre of the biggest, craziest, most challenging of schedules, you remained true to yourself: undaunted and unshaken, with a teasing but kind word to every one and an ocean of warmth beneath the expletives and hollering, you were an abiding mother figure to the entire cast and crew.

To have done this all, without losing your feminity or your cool, to remain authentic and genuine, to foster such a team spirit on the sets, to have undertaken a multi-city overseas dance tour, an unprecedented promotional exercise an on -schedule release date and all this with three tiny children, while still ensuring that at the end of its making, everyone on your team feels such a sense of camaraderie, fun and involvement and secure, is an astonishing feat.
Which is why I'm writing this to you Farah, because, by the time you read this, your film might have already broken every opening record and gone on to be the sensation everyone is praying it will be.

But a film, no matter how big and successful, is after all a film. In my book, Farah, from what I have learnt of your human values and character during the making of Happy New Year, you are already a superstar, a big hit and a heroine, someone I will always admire, respect and endevour to emulate.

So, congratulations, badhaiyon and yes, Happy New Year. Now go, get some rest!

Your sincerely, etc
malavikasmumbai@gmail.com