Bollywood in Texas

As I sat studying the road map of Austin, I was both amused and attracted by the many funny names I saw. There was a ‘Shady Hollow' and a ‘Lost Creek' (rather spooky names); ‘Sunset Valley', ‘Barton Creek' and ‘Wild Flower Centre' (inviting and mesmerising); and some unique, like ‘Cat Mountain' and ‘Bee Cave'.

I was there to meet my daughter, who was pursuing higher studies at the University of Texas at Austin. My body had quickly acclimatised to the Texan atmosphere and my mind was eager to explore the places whose names were so soft, spooky and suave. My first choice was to visit Shady Hollow, for its name was both enchanting and haunting. It sounded mysterious, like a hollow in the earth with no end in site!

I boarded a burnished orange and white bus from the ‘Doubletree Hotel'; a name equally baffling, for there were clusters, but no single or double trees in the vicinity. The moment I stepped on the stairs to board I was startled and nearly knocked off my feet, not literally but culturally. Inside I could hear a Hindi movie song I recognised being played over the bus' music system. A Hindi song in Texas! It was amazing.

I raced up the three steps and bolted inside. My haste was now less a result of my eagerness to reach the spooky destination and more to find out who under the Austin sky could be playing Hindi film songs. I was intrigued.

The people inside appeared not the least bit concerned. Either they were too preoccupied with arranging their briefcases or they were just busy arguing for the sake of it.

My eyes immediately looked towards the driver's seat. On it sat a young man, his golden hair partly concealed by his cap, rocking his head to the beat of the song.

"Sir," I said, "I am from India and therefore can understand what the song means. It is supposed to be a sad song, not as happy as your shaking head suggests."

The man opened his eyes. They broadened and sparkled the moment he realised I was from India.

"Welcome monsieur, I am Tress," he said and stretched his hand out to shake mine. "What a pleasure to meet someone from my dream land. I am a fan of your land and yes, I know a lot about your country — not just the snake charmers, but also about your film world." All this he spoke in one breath, and then after a pause he continued, "Oh yes, I know Bollywood, an Indian version of our Hollywood. Yet it is so original, so singular … song and dance, joy and mirth in both death and birth!" With that he smiled bemusedly. "And," he continued, "the starlets are very pretty. Kareena Kapoor, Katrina Kaif, Aishwarya Rai …" He paused for a while before continuing, "It is sad she is now married, a waste of beauty," and his mischievous grin stretched from ear to ear.

"But monsieur, please don't think I only know about Indian films. I am also aware of words like namaste and food like idli dosha. I have heard about the Sitar maestro Ravi Shankar too. What if I have not heard, tasted or seen the things and the people I have mentioned? At least I know the names." With that he sat down with a triumphant smile.

Indeed, he was right. He knew what he wanted to and about the rest he did not care. Now I could gauge why he was nodding his head to that sad Hindi melody. His ear for the song and his passion for everything oriental made him say, "If music be the food of love, play on …"

Vimal Yogi Tiwari is a freelance journalist based in India.