Happy Few Years! writes Sajid Khan

Tomorrow is the last day of 2015. I’m sure you have already made some New Year Eve plan. Or a get-together with friends/colleagues. Or like the 99 per cent population of India, are you also in Goa? Because if you are, then you’ve woken up at 3pm and are definitely not reading this. So then, who am I writing it for? Well, for the remaining 1 per cent population.

I am 44 years old. I don’t drink. Never have. And I don’t think I ever will. I don’t party. Actually, very rarely, I do. My only major vice is smoking. And I blame a New Year Eve’s party for that. Nahi samjhe? Samjhata hoon samjhata hoon.

In 1981,I was an excited 10-year- old who had started dancing to Saturday Night Fever and Mithun Chakraborty songs. That sort of made me an attraction amongst friends. There was a New Year Eve party on the terrace of our neighbouring building. For adults only. Nahi nahi, aisa kuch nahi hai, you dirty minds! It’s just that kids weren’t allowed. The entry fee to the party was a whopping Rs10 per person and Rs15 for a couple. I really wanted to go to this party as I had never been to one before. So I told an 18-year-old friend of mine — Get me in to this party, please. He said, “Sajju, if you buy my ticket and yours, I’ll sneak you in.” Rs20? For a 10-year-old kid? Impossible! I told him, “If you get me in free, I would give a 10 minute dance performance on Night Fever by the Bee Gees mixed with Gunmaster G9 like Mithun Chakraborty.

He negotiated with the organisers and they agreed. But guess what? His entry was free too as he became my manager for the night. This was my first New Year Eve party. Where I danced like John Travolta-Mithunda part of the deal. I was the darling of the party as not just a dancing attraction, but also as the only kid at the party. My friend-cum-manager offered me beer to which I said no. Then he offered me a cigarette which I refused again. I remember his exact words to me. “Sajju, meri awaz suno mein Kanwarlal yehi cigarette peeta hai. Yeh menthol waali hai. Mazaa ayega. Try kar.” Seeing the others enjoying the party, drinking and smoking, somehow I also wanted to be a grown-up. So I took the cigarette, had a puff and started coughing and gave it back to him. I told him it’s kadwa. Then he demonstrated to me how to smoke properly. That’s it. I smoked nearly half a pack that night. Mind you, I didn’t get addicted to it I just thought over the coming months, as I was smoking, that it’s the only way to fit into a grown up circle. Now, obviously I couldn’t afford cigarettes so I used to hang out with grownups who were smokers so that I could just bum a couple of cigs from them which makes me think right now, ‘How fucking irresponsible were they?’ 34 years later, I’m still smoking. I can’t recall a single day since that New Year Eve’s party when I haven’t smoked. In moments of happiness, sadness, victory, defeat, stress, leisure, etc. The only thing that’s been constant with me are my cigarettes.

Remember Back To The Future in which Marty Mc Fly alters his present by going back to the past in a time machine, to change a few events then which have affected him now? Sometimes, I wish I had that time machine to go back to that New Year’s Eve party and not smoked at all. I know I have to give it up. I know for me, it’s not a resolution but some sort of an inner warning. Otherwise for me, the coming Happy New Years could end up being my Happy Few Years! Oh, just by the way, recently, I bumped into the guy who taught me smoking. And guess what he told me? “Sajju tu kitni cigarette peeta hai yaar? Bandh kar na!!!”