Like every committed fandom, Shah Rukh Khan’s followers believed in that religious — alternately Potterian — delusion: That they could protect their deity. That extraordinary love can trigger a Patronus against unfair targeting by a malicious system. That particular faith crumbled with what panned out for Khan’s family last year. Ultimately, fans responded in the only way they could to show support — by buying tickets to his movies that were released thereafter and making them blockbusters. And by turning up at Mannat, Lands End, in what is a daily reinforcing ritual.
Different faces — countless nameless faces if Shah Rukh Khan were to view them from his balconies — stand every day across the narrow street of H K Bhabha Road, and spend a few minutes looking up at the fortified bungalow, smiling to themselves at having made the easiest of pilgrimages. Besides the commuting fare, it costs nothing, and no matter what your background is, you stand equally with the rest of the crowd in the hope of catching a glimpse of the star.
There are the occasional squeals of S-h-a-h-r-u-k-h-k-h-a-n on a Tuesday evening the week after the release of Jawan, but most fans soak in the silence of their own thoughts as they stand peering at the home.
November 1 every year is the high octane day when fans gather to ring in the star’s birthday the next day, more vocal as anticipation builds up. SRK doesn’t fail them mostly on that day. He turns up at his black meshed perch, gracefully accepting the overflowing sea of emotions directed towards him. That one time he made a heart with his hand and pointed towards the crowd, each one of his fans thought he meant it exclusively for them. But it is between snatches of these individual memories and the collective mystic of appreciating SRK’s charm on screen that the Mannat legend grows stronger.
One recurring scene I have watched play out over the course of all these years and two dozen times of standing outside Mannat in the evening at Bandstand, is how couples follow the exact same routine — it’s like watching romantic Shah Rukh Khan movies from the ’90s, when he was the King of Hearts, and not the wickedly delicious action beast he’s now become. And you loved every iteration of him wooing his woman on the big screen, though snide folk crinkled their pretentious noses at the repetitions. But watch couples at Mannat, and you know why some reels go around in circles.
You need to climb steep steps when approaching Mannat from the promenade. Couples of all age groups break into instinctive chivalry, hauling up their trudging partners. Sometimes, the women help the men clamber up, too, hands finding one another in tight clasps.
Once they catch their breath, the men invariably take over. I have lost count of the number of times that men have stood there pointing to the various nooks and balconies of the bungalow, making up their own stories of the layout of the house. Women often merely nod, thinking their thoughts, but it has never stopped men from trying to impress their partners with their specific insights. Men of 70 and men of 17 all do that.
Perhaps, the magic of Mannat is in making (and making up) your own Shah Rukh Khan short film in your mind, knowing you will never cross that threshold into his private world where he is safely ensconced with his family. Somehow, entering that space and seeing it with your own eyes would feel like an intrusion. Certainly, it doesn’t quite hold the same charm as standing outside Mannat, squealing S-h-a-r-u-u-k-h, as you rub shoulders with strangers, glued together by the hope that Khan will show up, all the while accepting that he won’t most times.
Eyes toggle between rooms that come into view under warm orange lights. Groups of men don sunglasses, even if it’s post 9 pm and the sun is down, because the Mannat selfie demands you do your best hero turn. Women pat down their hair in vain against the sea breeze and finally give up, because who cares about the frizz when Shah Rukh Khan could be at home, on the other side of that grey-and-white gate.
Perhaps, the most hilarious fan frame was of a lean man posing shyly in front of the Mannat gate. As he suddenly broke into The Pose — arms spread wide — the edifice in the background was briefly blurred by fumigation smoke leaking over the gate and the sides. He stepped away to cough.
When the Khan family was going through a wringer, and before Pathaan and Jawan, there were days when you felt forlorn just standing outside the quiet home. When the entire might of the SRK fandom could do nothing for their unfairly cornered star.
But a week into his stupendous return with Jawan, the Mannat swag is back. Ordinary fans might never get to see what the interiors look like, but they know they’ve done their bit. “Kya HIT karwaaya Jawan humne!” boasts a young fan.
The delusion of fans to be able to somehow shield their hero from targetted malice might have shattered. But when that knowing smile broke out under a bandaged, battered face, they turned up in millions at movie theatres to woot and whistle. And then some trooped down to Mannat to join other kindred silhouettes and prove that the many blazing sunsets for Shah Rukh Khan, fuelled by the love of fans, are eternal. Every time the curtains flickered, we knew he knows we’re there for him still, replete with all our delusions.
shivani.naik@expressindia.com
