They couldn’t have found a more remote address, far away from the madding crowd of show business centred in the suburbs. Classical music and dance proponent, Brij Narain, was their host. No one could have suspected that Kishore Kumar, renamed Rashid Abdul after the nikaah with his begum, had gone off the radar, courtesy Brij Narain of the Sur Singar Samsad, who wasn’t exactly a fierce fan of B-town entertainment.
Now for a journo, that would have been a scoop sighting. For a bunch of schoolkids in knee-pants, then, the story of the getaway was tantalising, a perfect autograph-op.
So three or four of us, feigning seraphic smiles, rang the doorbell, to be politely told by the host, “Not now. Maybe later.” The ‘later’ was to come, the next morning. Madhubala was out for a walk on the seafront close by, protected from the sun by a rose-bordered parasol. She seemed to be smiling to…
