There was a Zen-like glow on Juhi Chawla’s face when t2 caught up with her on Sunday afternoon at ITC Sonar. She had been to the Kali temple in the morning, seeking blessings for Kolkata Knight Riders, like she does every year. For the next 40 minutes at Pan Asian, as she chatted with t2, even a mini explosion of dumplings-too-hot couldn’t erase that Juhi smile! 

It’s IPL time. Do you look forward to April-May with excitement or does it spell tension?

Mixed feelings about it, always (laughs). Yes, the excitement is there. Suddenly all of us wake up to cricket. But still, even after so many seasons, the fluttering, the little anxiety… it doesn’t go away. It’s back. You are there and you are wishing for everything to go the right way. 

I am training myself to go with the flow because I am realising it’s not what YOU do (laughs)… the universe has a way of taking you to the right places, making you do the right things. You think by running around and with all that anxiety, you are doing great... nothing! So, just chill and go with the flow.... Now, I get excited about doing something which is for something bigger than myself, where I myself learn and can contribute… which will impact and inspire other people. I am on that kind of a trip. 

I am learning. I do slip. I do get anxious, but I constantly keep reminding myself to let go. Everything is fine the moment you are at peace. Then everything around you is at peace. That’s the universal law...

But is it easy to let go?

No, because we are so conditioned like that… ‘God! I have to run to work! I must keep time! Blah, blah, blah’. You have to learn to be with yourself. There is a little voice inside, you call it your instinct, which guides you that this is what I feel like doing now. What is that little voice inside you happy doing? When are you most at peace? Do those things in life. Allow things to happen. We keep coming in our own way. 

Have you always been this person?

I am learning it now! (Laughs) I wasn’t like this... I used to think you are changing the world by running around (laughs). If you wish to change the world, it will change... but you don’t have to stress over it, don’t have to beat yourself up. 

Was there a moment that made you realise this?

Life has given me a bit of a shake-up. I guess that’s the only way you wake up. I have lost my family members. That is what spurred me on to look for something… there must be something beyond this that I need to look for.... 

Was that your coping mechanism?

In the beginning, yes. And then you realise that this is may be what you needed to learn. Things happen in your life for a reason. Now if I look back, I see, did I really make my career? No. There was somewhere something guiding me, taking me along. In fact, when I have made decisions, I have also made stupid decisions. So, it’s not me who made myself a star. Who was I? Just a kid on the block who was a little more attractive, decent-looking, but nothing beyond that. Honestly! What amazing chances came my way! Suddenly you start thinking ‘I am the one doing it’ and then you start messing it up. 

Why do think KKR happened to you?

Again, like I say, nothing by my design. It fell into place because Lalit (Modi; former IPL chairman and commissioner) has been a childhood friend of Jay’s (Jay Mehta; Juhi’s husband). And he was starting IPL. It was just an idea in his head and he had planned it for years. You have always heard that cricket and Bollywood are two of the most loved things in India. For us it was just that match. 

We couldn’t afford Mumbai. So, what we could afford was given to us. That time it was Calcutta. We thought Eden Gardens, the famous ground… and Calcutta loves football, loves cricket. So there are already people who love the sport but neither of us knew Bengali. I had worked in a Bengali film (Amar Prem) and I thought how life is a full circle. The day QSQT had released, I had signed my Bengali film. I’ll never forget that. I thought may be it’s a coming back. I thought of calling the few people I knew when we were coming for the first match. I wanted Calcutta to feel KKR is theirs and we just happened to be around. Bumba (Prosenjit) I knew because I had worked with him (in Amar Prem). That’s how it started.

In hindsight are you happy that you got Calcutta?

I don’t think I could have asked for anything more. (Laughs) I don’t go to the temple as often in Bombay, but I don’t leave Calcutta without touching Ma’s feet. I don’t know what is making me do that but I am like ‘No, no… it’s coming from the heart… don’t question it. Do it’. May be some previous birth connection? (Laughs) 

What has your KKR innings taught you?

KKR has taught us so much. If we rewind to the first four years (laughs), it taught us humility. Really and I think I am grateful for those years. I think if we had started winning from the beginning, I wouldn’t be talking to you today. I would be sitting on a horse! I am very grateful for the beating now. When I was going through it, it was very sad. 

When we are at the stadium and Shah Rukh (Khan) comes in, the crowd goes crazy. I look at it a little philosophically… always have, but now a little more… as to who are you? People get happy looking at you. That is such a big blessing we’ve been given. Shah Rukh is skin and bones like all of us, but God has gifted him something that Calcutta celebrates when he is there. He dances when KKR is winning and does somersaults. Nobody is telling him to do it but he does it because he feels he loves every bit of it.

And I want to tell you the first year or two, we tried to go watch KKR matches in Mumbai. We were in purple T-shirts in the middle of blue. Oh god! People became mean to us (laughs). Now, we cannot go. So, in our own city, we cannot go for our own match. So suddenly Calcutta has become our home during IPL. 

What do you love about Bengalis?

I have always known Bengalis to be intellectuals and every household I believe has music. And at the same time, there is football and cricket as well, which is such an amazing mix. This is the land of Rabindranath Tagore.... I got this book… a love story…

Shesher Kobita?    

Yes… but he (Amit Roy) doesn’t get the girl! They go their own ways at the end. I was waiting for another ending… yeh kya hua?! Ahhh, but it was very beautiful. 

So, you are a happy-ending kind of a person?

Can’t be in all, but I still keep hoping for it. 

Are you a chilled-out mom? 

I am learning. I keep reminding myself to let go, let go, let go. 

Do you talk to your daughter (Jahnavi, 15) about body-image issues?

It’s started already. That’s why she is going to the gym… wants to be slim and trim. But I did tell her that I am not thin, but I am not fat. So chances are you won’t really get fat... don’t worry! My son Arjun (12) is running around with his friends. Very sweet age! I can imagine in two years, it won’t be the same. 

Have they seen your films? 

They haven’t really seen my films… just two-three films. When Chalk N Duster released (this year), my son came for it but my daughter was on a school trip. I haven’t pushed them into seeing my films. 

Which film of yours would you want them to see first?

Hum Hain Rahi Pyaar Ke… sweet, funny…. 

Who do they love from the current crop of actors and actresses?

Occasionally they see Hindi films and more English films. I think Jahnavi likes Deepika Padukone. 

Shah Rukh Khan’s Fan is up for release. You’ll be catching it, right?

I would want to see it… interesting. 

Who were you a fan of?

I was a big fan of Sridevi and may be Julia Roberts. Before I came into acting, it was Hema Malini, Mumtaz, Padmini Kolhapure… actually even Neelam Kothari. She started before me, but whatever little I saw of her was really nice. She conducts herself very well.... Sridevi is the ultimate. I have told her many times! 

Saionee Chakraborty

Text: Ratnalekha Mazumdar
Pictures: Pabitra Das and Ratnalekha Mazumdar

‘By the time the match was over my voice was hoarse and my body ached’

In my short time here I’ve been told countless times that no stay in Calcutta is complete without a trip to the Eden Gardens. I was afforded a glimpse of the kind of cricket-induced fervour that can grip the city when I caught the end of the World T20 final last week. Packed like sardines around a solitary television set in a small, dingy bar, I watched with dozens of locals as 

Ben Stokes was knocked for four consecutive sixes by the indomitable Carlos Brathwaite, each shot eliciting from the crowd a more frenzied reaction than the last. The final, winning six was met with utter pandemonium, and all for a team who had knocked India out of the tournament just a few days earlier.
So, when I was handed a ticket for the match between Kolkata Knight Riders and Delhi Daredevils as part of my internship, I was thrilled.

Described by a colleague as “a total circus”, the atmosphere even outside the ground was unlike anything I’d experienced before. Watching cricket in my native England can be a placid affair. Lord’s, for example, tends to be packed with a largely prim and proper crowd, reluctant to offer much more than occasional smatterings of applause for their team as they sip from expensive drinks. 

Not so in Calcutta. Accosted by street vendors, face painters and fans waving flags emblazoned with the crest of their beloved KKR at every turn, I approached the stadium flanked by throngs of purple-shirted supporters of the local team. Once inside, I was able to appreciate the sheer size of the stadium; seated in the second tier of the east stand, I was positioned to the right of the most raucous fans, whose whooping and hollering did not let up for the entire match. 
As the players emerged from the dugouts, the noise inside the ground reached a crescendo; children blew on whistles till they could blow no more and grown men waved their shirts above their heads as chants of “KKR!” reverberated around the pitch. The carnival atmosphere was further enhanced by a DJ, whose songs were met by vigorous renditions of the Champion dance made popular during the World T20.

Over the course of the match I found myself taking selfies with KKR supporters, screaming in indignation at the umpire’s decisions, and yelling gleefully as the home side secured the win by reaching a target of 99 runs.

During lulls in the play, Mexican waves rippled around the stadium, providing yet another excuse for me to get out of my seat and wail to the top of my lungs. And by the time the match was over my voice was hoarse and my body ached.
My first, uproarious IPL experience had come to an end, and as I shuffled out of the ground, surrounded by thousands of equally satisfied spectators, I hoped that it would not be my last.

George Steer
(Bristol University graduate working with t2 as an intern)