Night shift: I am the man who points out SRK’s house to every non-local

Rana has been setting up his collapsible stall opposite Mannat from before the Bandra Bandstand promenade was spruced up. He is separated from the SRK fans by a small park. Along side brewing tea, Rana has another job of confirming Khan’s address, he says.

“I start selling tea and samosas at sunset. However, I am also the man who answers every non-local’s ‘Is that really Shah Rukh Khan’s house’. I just nod now. I look up at them only if they want something from me that they’re going to pay for. Thak gaya hoon bata ke ki yeh hain uska ghar garden ke uss par,” says Rana.
Twenty years ago, Rana came to Mumbai when the SRK phenomenon was yet to begin. “We lived down the road in Ganesh Nagar. We had only a blue sheet over our head, but a sea view as well. I worked at several hotels before finally deciding to take advantage of the fact that I lived next door to Bandstand and Khan. It was my idea and it has been my best idea to make a living,” adds Rana.

As night falls, the 60 samosas he had made are long gone, but the chai kettle is still boiling. It’s Rs 20 for a samosa pav, Rs 10 for tea in a plastic cup, Rs 15 for tea in a paper cup – premium prices for a premium spot. Later at night, the post-party revellers will also stop to enjoy the sea-breeze. Their heady chatter goes well with chai, knows Rana.

“Kaam chalta hain jab tak police ka kanoon thanda ho aur mere samosa garaam,” says Rana. He works between 5 pm and midnight or until his samosas are over or he is forced to flee the spot when the authorities approach.

“Yeh rozi roti kamaane main risk hain, lekin usse bhi zyada entertainment hai,” he adds, enjoying the new trend of people stopping outside Mannat for selfies with the bungalow’s name plate on the background.

He remembers one young boy of about 20 years from Bihar who had come with a camera and Rs 150. “He said Khan also had a camera and Rs 150 when he arrived in the city and he was following Khan’s footsteps in his struggle. I didn’t speak to him much. I am surrounded by so much hope every day that I don’t mock it,” says Rana.

At night curious people often stand by his tea-stall and guess how large the star’s house is. They sometimes ask whether Khan ever puts rooms on rent or the watchman has the star’s mobile numbers or if there is a ticketed tour of the bungalow. “The most bizarre question is whether Khan’s toddler Abram might be asleep. Now, why would someone else want to know that?” asks Rana.

It’s around 9.30 pm on Sunday and a band of three boys play guitars nearby. Another group of brisk walkers laugh loudly. Amid the buzz, Rana’s attention is focused on his eldest son Ganesh, 8. He is playing with two strays whom he has named Chulbul and Tiger, both characters played by Salman Khan, his favourite actor.

“I have another son and a younger daughter, but I bring Ganesh to spend time with me. I want him to enjoy the perks of being here, though I hope he doesn’t end up doing what I do for a living,” says Rana.