Chetan Bhagat draws attention to my writing and my blog as does Vikram Seth. They actually read my blog ? Wow !! That is something. I mean these are great, celebrated writers. How would they ever give importance to little me ? But they are gracious and show magnanimity. Chetan particularly is astonished how I can write everyday consistently. Says he has written 3 books and that for him is enough. He talks of writing something which he feels would make a good film story for Abhishek. I tell him, hey, how about writing something for me !

Mani Kaul the great name in the so called ‘art cinema’ is on table with me. We discuss films and procedures and actors. Dilip Kumar in particular and his exceptional craft. He reminds me of the days in 1968 and 1969, when we would roam the back streets of the Ballard Estate region of then Bombay, searching work, searching recognition. He remembers my Mother as a member of the Film Council and one of the first and few that recognized his work and gave him encouragement.

A quick soup and sugared curd, a round of departure byes and I am out of dinner. Rambagh, looks glorious at night, with the lights and trickling fountains and flowered floors. What majesty must have engulfed those days of royalty and pageant. Sometimes you wish you could have been a bystander in those times.

Equally exciting was the venue of the Fest, Diggi Palace. A quaint large residence in blue and white and the largest joint family structure in place. So informs me the head, who along with several members of said joint structure greet me in typical Rajasthani welcome, with grace and gratitude.

The Fest was spread over several areas. Casual, informal but spilling with those pursuing literary interest. A large number of foreigners both visiting and reporting and participating. I am pushed into position on stage decorated with cut outs of mine from various films. Neville of Osian conducts affairs. There is debate and discussion through questions and then there is MEDIAAa..!!

The topics for public query when the moment is thrown open to them varies from the obvious and expected, to the mature and intelligent discourse from the younger generation - SM, Oscars, lifting of the ban on smoking in films and a recitation of my Father’s. I comply and cater to all, sign a million books and autographs, rescue women and children that crush under the over enthusiastic security as I move towards the exit… and back !!

Neville quips they sold enough books to pay for my stay and leaves me to rest and recover. Which I do before meeting up with Tich, Inderjit Khanna. Sherwood College, Nainital Class of 1958 !!

In June last year, for those that were with me from then, we were all at Nainital for the Founder’s Week celebrations of my School. But.. we were the Class of 1958, meeting after 50 years !! Those wonderful moments are there, described in my earlier DAYS. We had collectively decided to contribute in some manner something for our alma mater, an institution that had given us the grounding for what all of us eventually became in our lives - Major Generals in the army, Chief Secretary’s of the Administrative Services of the Government, successful businessmen, proficient farmers and educationists. And yes, a film actor !!

Sherwood had become a co-ed. But on noticing that the percentage difference between boys and girls was very large; 300 to 60 or there abouts, I asked the Principal the reason. He informed me that that was all they could accommodate because there was no facility to house more girl students. That rung the bell ! Lets contribute to build a dormitory for girls so more of them could get education in this premiere institution. And thats what we have done. We have all contributed towards this cause and now we are set for the construction to start.

Titch, who lives in Jaipur, had come to brief me on the progress. There was a huge shortfall in the budget that was prepared. I volunteer to make up this shortfall. The housing wing he insists should bear my name. I am embarrassed by that. But when he persists, I agree for it to bear my father’s name. There is in Sherwood already, the Bachchan Patra, a cup presented by my Father during his visit to the School as a special guest, for the best actor in a Hindi play. His name now in his absence, for the girls dormitory would be most appropriate. Decision taken. Instructions for the movement of funds given and another noble deed for the deserving, initiated. I feel happy about this. My Father would have been happier !!

The bed invites me. My brain slows down. Its time to leave for the day to be with you again…

With love and peace and a lot of care -

Amitabh Bachchan