Madonna memories...

My childhood girlfriend asked me: “Have you listened to Madonna?” And I said: “Who’s she?” My hip girlfriend then told me about the singer and her songs. Back then, I wanted to hear Like A Virgin for all the wrong reasons! I had imagined it to be a very ‘controversial’ song.

My Madonna madness had begun. From then on, all my pocket money savings went to the Madonna Posters fund! The first one came from an Archies gallery at Rashbehari Avenue and the second from the footpath in front of Indian Museum. Once my walls filled up, I started pasting posters on my ceiling, just so that I could see Madonna first thing in the morning. I was a busy boy, trying to collect all the information possible on her, quite a tough job in those no-Net and hardly-TV days! I didn’t have a stereo system and I used to listen to her songs at my friend’s place.

Be what you want to be…

Madonna is one of the reasons I became a designer. She is the sole inspiration to many of us fashion designers. But that’s not without reason. Not only is she provocative, Madonna is proactive. She makes you question. She challenges you. She is an irresistible mix of defiance, sex and intellectual stimuli.

Not just me, she inspires my other friends from the creative field. She has lived her life in black or white — there are no grey shades to Madonna. She is most inspiring because of her own burning ambition. She teaches you how you can be what you want to be.

The biggest thing she proves is that you can be mediocre yet turn into a talking point. She exemplifies ‘where there is a will, there is a way’. Think about it, very few people are born with super talent. Most of us hone it. If I draw a parallel, I have never claimed to be a great designer. I look back 10 years, and realise how much I have learnt. I had this burning drive to change myself and make myself better.

She is called the Mistress of Reinvention only because of her grit and determination, that itself is a key to success, isn’t it? Look at her — she is not a great looking woman. She is 5 ft 3 inches. And she looks more beautiful at 50 than she ever looked at 20, 30 or 40! At 50, I think she is looking like her namesake, the Madonna.

I don’t care how many times she has gone under the knife — the fact is that they can’t teach you to kick so that your nose touches your knee. At 50, she can perform Into The Groove hopping and skipping, pole dancing and smiling all through! How can you sing, skip and hold your smile?

I often feel that I am trapped in the wrong job. Things have just come to me luckily. A successful fashion designer has to be exciting. At a personal level, I am not. On a physical level I am not a go-getter. To be creative you have to embrace the world but I am reticent and shy. I am stuck in an image. In my workplace, I am Santa Claus to some, Grandpa to others and father figure to many. So I have a daddy image on a personal level. It is an image that is thrust upon me and I am living it.

As you grow up, you realise your sense of responsibility and the last thing I expect myself to do is throw caution to the wind and run for a Madonna show in Cardiff, not even in London, five days before leaving for New York Fashion Week! If I am kicked about the show, I am far more kicked about the fact that I did it!

Chase the dream...

When I reflect, I see that I have made a lot of money. I have achieved fame. But what I haven’t learnt is how to have fun. I am not able to do what I really want to do. And I really wanted to see a Madonna show. I have a small must-do or must-have list. So it is unfair not to chase the dream. This trip was one of self-realisation.

Usually when I decide to do anything, I need a lot of reassurance, otherwise I feel guilty. All my assistants, my parents and sister egged me on to do this for MYSELF. I thought I am going to use the weekend and work hard three extra days but thanks to a bandh, we lost one! I went online to book my ticket but before that, I booked my hotel! Imagine 60,000 people descending on one small town called Cardiff. I bought my ticket online for £300 and asked them to deliver it to my hotel. I couldn’t believe what I was doing!

Madonna junkies...

Pleased as punch, I took the flight from Calcutta to London with a silly first-date type of smile! On the train ride from London to Cardiff, my plastered smile didn’t budge. I checked into my hotel and immediately headed to check out the Millennium Stadium where madam would perform. Uh huh. I was not alone! Suddenly, I heard Borderline! As I stood outside the gate for three hours, I couldn’t believe that I was tuned in to hear Madonna rehearse. Not only did I know what songs she would sing, I also knew the order! Really, I would sell my car to see the show! What use is a car if I can’t chase my lifelong dream? Many people were amused that I had come all the way from India to watch the show.

At 7.30am, the morning of the show, I went to the stadium. Just as I was thinking I was her biggest fan, I got a rude shock. So many sleeping bags! All the excited people wanted to be the first to enter the concert! Madonna junkies!

The Golden Circle...

I belonged to exclusive VIP seating. It’s called the Golden Circle. Only, there are another 4,999 very important people. As the gates opened and we were allowed to go in, I thanked god I don’t wear spectacles. What if they were to fall off and I had to bend over to get them in this stampede? During the three-and-a-half hours that we waited for entry, it started raining. Obviously, I had no umbrella. I cut holes into a plastic popcorn bag and covered my face and head! Four-and-a-half-hours later, the show began. The diva entered in a maze of graphics and pyrotechnics. I saw her through a grid of waving hands and flashing cellphones.

Showtime...

Eighteen songs and two hours... it was all a blur. She sang many Hard Candy songs. I met a man from Spain who “never misses Madonna shows”. Apparently he had never seen her perform Borderline!

Madonna shook a leg. She hopped. Skipped. Thrust her pelvis. Changed costumes eight times, each zannier than the last. Clothes by Givenchy’s Ricardo Tisci and shoes by Miu Miu. The most beautiful bit was when three Hungarian gypsy musicians appeared and she belted out You Must Love Me from Evita. The special effects were spectacular.

The show saw everything from a real Chevrolet to a makeshift boxing ring to images of New York subways. She paid a tribute to Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake (I heard she’s trying to get them back together). Suddenly I saw temples and camels and realised that it was my country! Many lehariya lehnga-clad gypsies did the ghumar while she sang the Spanish version of La Isla Bonita.

Her political messages were hard-hitting. She showed the children of Sudan, anti-violence clips and AIDS awareness. I realised she is not just a performer. She knows her hold on millions of people (and the mesmerising effect on 33-year-olds like myself).

She is not a statesman or politician but her charisma and potent power is greater than great world leaders put together. Now I know why universities have a thesis paper on Madonna. Madonnalogy is a subject.

The two hours ended abruptly. She disappeared into a box that cheekily said, “game over”. Deafening applause but no encore.

Me, myself & Madonna...

As I walked back, crunching popcorn and broken beer bottles underfoot, I had a strange feeling. I hated to admit it, but I might just have outgrown Madonna. Some dreams are better left unfulfilled.

Thankfully, for me, the journey was more important than the destination. My train journey back to London made me realise the purpose of the trip. Everything happens for a reason and the reason for my trip was self-realisation. As I saw a rolling meadow and cattle grazing, I realised how large the world was and how insignificant I am.

I am glad I made this trip. There is always another Fashion Week. There are always greater turnarounds. Another film. Another award. But I ignore the today. I have always wanted to please people — be it media, my parents or friends. This time I did something for myself. Maybe I am not so messed up. Despite constant fame and need to better myself, I ran away to watch Madonna. I realise the key to happiness and success. I listen to my heart.