Deepak: The style icon

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Deepak: The style icon

Deepak was unforgettable for many reasons, and his big magnanimous heart was not

the least of them. However, the reason he stood out was his Style, with a

capital S. Always impeccably groomed with soft hair, broad belt, flowery shirt

and oversize bell bottoms. Deepak's trademark was his huge high heeled blunt

shoes. Always rubbed to perfection, one could almost see one's face in his

shoes.

However, covering the feet was not the only thing that Deepak's shoes did. One

cold wintery night, when we were sitting sipping a hot cuppa in the college

canteen, Deepak swaggered over in his unique strut. He pulled over a chair like

Shammi Kapoor in Teesri Manzil, and sat on it turned the opposite side.

He had worn a loose corduroy jacket of pale beige colour. On anyone else, it

would have looked drab, but with the Deepak charisma it seemed almost a fashion

statement. " Well guys, " he remarked, rubbing his palms together, " a rather cold

night, isn't it? "

Gauri Shankar, who was always in awe of him nodded his head vigourously. " Fag

hai kya? " Gauri ate a lot, drank a lot, and belched a lot, but the one thing he

liked most was smoking a lot. At any given moment, chances that he was smoking

were tremendously high. You could say the he was eating, but then he would suck

in the smoke between mouthfuls. When he was studying, his eyes would go crinkly

while pulling in the carcinogens. In fact, no morning was complete for Gauri,

without the cancer stick. Given a choice between cancer and constipation, Gauri

always chose cancer.

Deepak always had a ready stock of his fags. He pulled out a white cigarette

with a flourish from between his hair. Amazing! We had not spotted it there.

Then he flicked the stick through a half rotation before he deftly caught it

with his lips. As if by magic, the fag moved quickly from one end of his lips to

the other and back again. I stared mesmerized at this performance. Then like a

magician, he produced a match stick out of thin air. I swear I was watching him

closely, but never realized where he pulled out that match stick from.

After that, his movements were sheer poetry. He rose a bit and twirled the chair

back to face right. Then he coolly placed one leg crosswise over the other. His

fag did another circle of his mouth, then Deepak snaked the match stick between

his fingers, until it had done a complicated dance in his hand. When it reached

his thumb, he held it with grace with his forefinger and thumb. Crinkling his

eyes slightly, like Clint Eastwood in those old Westerns, he quickly moved the

match on the heel of his raised shoe.

Lo behold! The match was burning brightly. Deepak cupped his hands almost like a

lover around the flame and took a deep suck from his cigarette. It was a

mesmerizing performance. I personally am a non smoker, but such was the lovely

performance that for once I wished that I could smoke with such amazing grace.

After that each puff by Deepak was as if he was gently caressing a lover. His

face lit up with an indescribable joy with each puff.

This grand performance had a profound effect on Gauri Shankar. The next day, I

found him midst a heap of match sticks. He was desperately trying to get one to

light by rubbing it against the heel of his shoe. After hundreds of wasted match

sticks, Gauri decided to learn from the master. He repaired to the dimly lit

room of Deepak. Deepak smiled gently and showed him exactly how to hold the

stick. " The trick, " he said, " is to have adequate pressure at the end of the

match stick. And the quicker your movement, the more successful you will be. "

Another day passed while Gauri wasted another few hundreds of match sticks, but

to no avail. The master remained undisputed king.

Months later, with our exams looming, Deepak desperately wanted some notes. He

asked me for them. I said, " I shall give them to you, but on the condition that

you teach me how you struck the match stick. "

Deepak gave a wicked smile and said, " I thought you would figure it out

immediately. It's simple really. I just pasted the side of a match box on the

inner side of my high heel. No one can see it and everyone assumes that you are

lighting the match with the shoe. "

Deepak grabbed the notes and walked out leaving a bemused me wondering why

Deepak did not apply his intelligence to studies.

-Kishore Shah