A dream to be an Actress – Chapter 2 – Baby Shalini
You can read the previous chapter here! Chapter 1 – Chithi
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I think I wanted to become an actress even before I understood what that means and also, understood the power of emoting. I had a classmate named Shilpa and in fact, she was my bench mate too. Being a Tamil girl and who is just getting to know Hindi, I used to talk with her in Tamil and she spoke with me in Hindi. I could not understand her language and similarly, she couldn\’t understand mine but, we communicated and understood through emotions. It was only a few months later I understood, she spoke in her mother tongue Marathi and I was able to understand it just because of the emotions. Emotions are the rawest expression and also the easiest way to impact and convey the messages to people.
During such time, a Tamil family similar to ours had come to our colony. Uncle and my dad(Raj) were office colleagues. Aunty was just like my mom(Rani) and she was facing difficulties in speaking and understanding the Hindi language. They had three daughters, the elder one (Habiba) was my sister’s (Jerry’s) set, middle one (Hairun) was my set (First and best friend of my life) and the third one(Meera) was four years younger to us. We had no language barriers and so, we became family friends easily. All four of us used to like to go to their home and spend time with them. My dad and uncle used to occupy the hall, mom and aunt used to occupy the kitchen, my sister and Habiba ka used to take one room and me, Hairun and Meera used to take the other room. We all used to talk for hours together. People of same age group and similar thought processes mingle easily and the same thing happened with us. We spoke in Tamil and I became confident of my Tamil (At least in Lucknow Standards. In Chennai Standards, It is a completely different story.)
As days passed by, my concerns towards my fluency and language issues reduced and it was replaced by a completely different problem. My looks. I started seeing the world with different eyes and beautiful things and people attracted me and I wanted to be part of that echelon.
When any guest arrives, I used to wear the best frock. I try hard to hold my hairs with my sister\’s clip. But, Alas, My hair was cut short similar to boys. Still, It never deterred me and I always tried my luck with the same clip. Then, I work with my lipstick and try to apply it as proper as I can without making a mockery out of myself.
But, despite all these efforts, most of the days had a tragic end. Every guest who arrived used to see my sister and say, \”Wow. She looks exactly like her mother. Same beautiful complexion and striking features\” and they have a look at me and ask, \”Don\’t you feed your second child? Why does she look so thin?\”. They then debate hard about if I look like my mom or dad and leave the debate abruptly when they can\’t come to a conclusion. My mother is the most beautiful woman I know and I wanted desperately to people say me that I look like her. So, I tried to copy my sister but the results were same but my sister always used to say that I look very cute and I have beautiful eyes. At least, that gave me the satisfaction but, I could sense deeper that my confidence is slowly fading away and replaced by an inferiority complex.
Things changed one fine day. I was in my fourth grade and almost 9 years old. We had a function in the school. Our headmaster was a church priest and it was his birthday. I had worn a beautiful Pink color frock with roses all over them. Teachers planned for a dance performance by three girls at the end of which, a garland has to be gifted to the priest. One hour before the scheduled time, one of the girls fell sick and she couldn\’t dance. Our class teacher came in a hurry, she had to a pick a girl randomly as the replacement and she selected me. I am still not sure if the fact that I was sitting on the first bench the reason or that fact that I wore my best frock that day. She told me to learn the steps from other girls and perform with them. I had about 40 minutes time to learn. It was a great opportunity for the little me and I tried my best in learning the steps and movements.
The performance came to an end and everybody stood and gave us a standing ovation. Even the headmaster gave us a special mention in his speech and he appreciated me in particular about my expressions and gracefulness with which I danced. Hairun and I studied in the same class. She came and said me the same night that, everybody liked my dance and all were looking at me and all were comparing me to a very famous child actress of that time. It might be random thought of some random person, but I remember fondly the name of the actress and her, later on, become my most favorite actress and married my favorite actor and the couple still stays as one of the most loved couples of South Indian cinema. She was none other than Baby
Shalini, w/o Ajith Kumar who is fondly known as Thala.
——-
I think I wanted to become an actress even before I understood what that means and also, understood the power of emoting. I had a classmate named Shilpa and in fact, she was my bench mate too. Being a Tamil girl and who is just getting to know Hindi, I used to talk with her in Tamil and she spoke with me in Hindi. I could not understand her language and similarly, she couldn\’t understand mine but, we communicated and understood through emotions. It was only a few months later I understood, she spoke in her mother tongue Marathi and I was able to understand it just because of the emotions. Emotions are the rawest expression and also the easiest way to impact and convey the messages to people.
During such time, a Tamil family similar to ours had come to our colony. Uncle and my dad(Raj) were office colleagues. Aunty was just like my mom(Rani) and she was facing difficulties in speaking and understanding the Hindi language. They had three daughters, the elder one (Habiba) was my sister’s (Jerry’s) set, middle one (Hairun) was my set (First and best friend of my life) and the third one(Meera) was four years younger to us. We had no language barriers and so, we became family friends easily. All four of us used to like to go to their home and spend time with them. My dad and uncle used to occupy the hall, mom and aunt used to occupy the kitchen, my sister and Habiba ka used to take one room and me, Hairun and Meera used to take the other room. We all used to talk for hours together. People of same age group and similar thought processes mingle easily and the same thing happened with us. We spoke in Tamil and I became confident of my Tamil (At least in Lucknow Standards. In Chennai Standards, It is a completely different story.)
As days passed by, my concerns towards my fluency and language issues reduced and it was replaced by a completely different problem. My looks. I started seeing the world with different eyes and beautiful things and people attracted me and I wanted to be part of that echelon.
When any guest arrives, I used to wear the best frock. I try hard to hold my hairs with my sister\’s clip. But, Alas, My hair was cut short similar to boys. Still, It never deterred me and I always tried my luck with the same clip. Then, I work with my lipstick and try to apply it as proper as I can without making a mockery out of myself.
But, despite all these efforts, most of the days had a tragic end. Every guest who arrived used to see my sister and say, \”Wow. She looks exactly like her mother. Same beautiful complexion and striking features\” and they have a look at me and ask, \”Don\’t you feed your second child? Why does she look so thin?\”. They then debate hard about if I look like my mom or dad and leave the debate abruptly when they can\’t come to a conclusion. My mother is the most beautiful woman I know and I wanted desperately to people say me that I look like her. So, I tried to copy my sister but the results were same but my sister always used to say that I look very cute and I have beautiful eyes. At least, that gave me the satisfaction but, I could sense deeper that my confidence is slowly fading away and replaced by an inferiority complex.
Things changed one fine day. I was in my fourth grade and almost 9 years old. We had a function in the school. Our headmaster was a church priest and it was his birthday. I had worn a beautiful Pink color frock with roses all over them. Teachers planned for a dance performance by three girls at the end of which, a garland has to be gifted to the priest. One hour before the scheduled time, one of the girls fell sick and she couldn\’t dance. Our class teacher came in a hurry, she had to a pick a girl randomly as the replacement and she selected me. I am still not sure if the fact that I was sitting on the first bench the reason or that fact that I wore my best frock that day. She told me to learn the steps from other girls and perform with them. I had about 40 minutes time to learn. It was a great opportunity for the little me and I tried my best in learning the steps and movements.
The performance came to an end and everybody stood and gave us a standing ovation. Even the headmaster gave us a special mention in his speech and he appreciated me in particular about my expressions and gracefulness with which I danced. Hairun and I studied in the same class. She came and said me the same night that, everybody liked my dance and all were looking at me and all were comparing me to a very famous child actress of that time. It might be random thought of some random person, but I remember fondly the name of the actress and her, later on, become my most favorite actress and married my favorite actor and the couple still stays as one of the most loved couples of South Indian cinema. She was none other than Baby
Shalini, w/o Ajith Kumar who is fondly known as Thala.
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