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This is an archive article published on March 16, 2003

The Strong Silent Type

POKER face fits the bill. Faces that blur into the blackness as the strobe lights and laser beams spread their iridescence across the dance ...

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POKER face fits the bill. Faces that blur into the blackness as the strobe lights and laser beams spread their iridescence across the dance floor. We’re discussing a breed that smells trouble faster than the superhero in the red and blue spandex suit. These are the band of bouncers who spread their web across strategic corners of a night club. From the macho man who looks through you at the entrance, to the one whose scorching gaze will ensure that the teenybopper on the floor stubs out his cigarette as soon as it’s spotted.

Sandeep Kharb (23) and Ravi Rexwal (25), two of the 120 bouncers in Delhi, have done a NCC course in Rohtak, where they were trained in security. They confess that clubs don’t care much for training. ‘‘If you look strong and can handle a crowd they hire you. The tougher thing is to build a reliable reputation in the profession as that is all that works for us,’’ says Rexwal.

In this business, mostly size matters. Susheel, who has been around for a decade, wears it like a badge. ‘‘It’s all about attitude and physique,’’ explains the muscleman at Fire & Ice, Mumbai’s hip hot spot.

One of them even has a name to fit the image. Tyson didn’t know what the word bouncer meant when he walked into Ecstacy, a South Mumbai night club. In fact, he chanced upon the career because his friend’s father, who owned Ecstacy, zeroed in on him at the college campus. ‘‘I love my job and enjoy meeting new people,’’ says Tyson who now works at Athena. But the best part, he’s quick to inform us: ‘‘The girls say that if Tyson is here then we are safe.’’

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Pune-based Balram Harvans and Sheikh Akhthar Hussein are pros at the troubleshooting game. After all, they have been at it for seven years at 10 Downing Street (TDS). ‘‘Everyone seems nice at the entrance. But it’s shocking to see some of the ‘decent’ people after a few drinks,’’ says Akhtar.

Kharb, who has also been a personal bodyguard to Salman Khan, Manoj Bajpai and Fiji golfer Vijay Singh reveals, ‘‘Dealing with ministers’ sons is the biggest nightmare.’’ Susheel, who trains the younger bouncers, says only 50 per cent of the trouble-makers are actually willing to resolve matters amicably. It’s usually the ‘new’ crowd, which is a stranger to nightlife, that fuels the fire, according to these experts. ‘‘Women who walk in alone are also often harassed by men who want to dance with them,’’ says Jeetu, one of the 10 bouncers employed at Fire & Ice.

While those Hrithikesque biceps often do the trick, well-known restaurateur A D Singh describes his first bouncer, who looked nothing like our Bollywood hero. ‘‘This very tough and sassy 20-year-old Parsi dancer made sure that no mischief-maker walked into our place.’’ he recalls. This was 13 years ago, at AD’s new venture Just Desserts, when the concept of commissioning burly watchguards had barely picked up. Till date, AD maintains that a polite manager or better still, a manageress should serve the purpose of ousting rabble-rousers.

But the bouncers themselves feel that the job is easier said than done. Of late, Mumbai’s top security agencies are wary of training or providing the services of bouncers to night clubs. ‘‘We stopped providing bouncers because of the growing number of brawls that erupt at these places,’’ says Vikas Verma, who heads Property Guards in Mumbai. In this profession, it’s mostly word of mouth that serves as a placement agency. ‘‘Most bouncers are personal trainers at gyms,’’ explains Waseem Khan who heads Velocity, a South Mumbai discotheque.

How do they deal with the friction? No flexing those muscles or using physical strength at any point of time, they tell us. The brawn is for mere display. The bouncers who are positioned at different corners of the club communicate on walkies, signalling one another on the first sign of trouble. ‘‘We politely request people to have fun and stop creating trouble. If they don’t, we show them the way out,’’ says Rohit.

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And what do these men in black do while others paint the town red? ‘‘We function against nature,’’ says Rohit with a twinge of sadness. While the mornings are reserved for duty sleep, the entire afternoon is spent pumping iron and it’s an MTV Grind of a different sort at night. While Akthar is a car mechanic, Balram makes time to run a small groceries shop with the help of his family by day.

The professionals confess that many of celebrities who hang out at their clubs are ‘good friends’. The seasoned lot seems to be hooked onto the famous DJs who are flown down from around the world. ‘‘It’s not about VJs and models anymore, we like listening to a different kind of music every other week,’’ says Rohit adding, ‘‘We also party but we’d rather not go to a club.’’

And who says bouncers don’t have a heart! ‘‘We keep lemon juice handy to reduce the nasha of some drunken guests and ask known rickshaw-wallahs to drop them home. If they remember what happened the next day, they come back to express their gratitude,’’ echo the TDS peacekeepers.

Of course, the celebrity tales are many but this one’s a gem: ‘‘I remember when some guy tried to act fresh with Lisa Ray and I handled him immediately. She kissed me on the cheek. I’ll never forget that moment!’’ winks Balram pointing towards his left cheek. And Rohit’s chest is all puffed up when he says, ‘‘Bobby Deol is my friend.’’

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But when it’s back to business, it looks like Des’ree anthem might turn into the bouncer theme song — You gotta be hard, you gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger…

(With inputs from Amba Batra in Delhi and Rahul Venkit in Pune)

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