I am fond of Pune for two reasons. First, the weather, and second, the Film and Television Institute of India, where I had spent a few weeks for a short course in videography. Now, I have a third reason: Madhav Gadgil.
I went to Gadgil's fifth-floor apartment in Pune on a Tuesday morning after two days of rain, and was greeted by a stunning view of the hills. As I waited in his drawing-cum-study room, which had many books and documents and a table with a computer and a Saraswati idol by a big window, his wife, Sulochana, assured me, “Madhav will be here any moment. Please have some water.”
Wearing a half-sleeved striped sweater over a cream cotton kurta and a white dhoti with chappals, a gangly Gadgil walked in. “Sorry Sanjoyji, I had some problem with my eyes,” he said. “But doctors have told me that I can go out in the rain from tomorrow. Let's meet tomorrow morning at 5:30.”
Next day, at 5.35am, Gadgil, clad in a Stanford University pullover, grey pants, a woollen beanie and shoes, stepped out of the elevator with a trolley bag. He told me that the mood I wanted in my frames can be created only at Vetal Hill, which I had seen outside his house. “You will find some birds, too, if you are lucky,” said Gadgil.
After we reached the parking lot of the Automotive Research Association of India, he led me to the path from where we began our trek. I was not sure if Gadgil was up to the climb; he is 77. But he laid my apprehensions to rest as he marched ahead with enthusiasm. The camera and other equipment I was carrying slowed me down a bit, and twice he looked back and said, “Please tell me if you want me to carry anything.”
After half an hour of trek, we reached the Baba Vetal temple, nestled in nature's lap. “Do you believe in God?” I could not resist asking Gadgil. He stopped for a second and smiled. On our return, he rang the temple bells, the sound reverberating across the misty hill.
I kept clicking pictures throughout the trek, requesting Gadgil at times to stop and pose. He agreed, every single time. But I was not satisfied with the shots; there was something missing in them. The shot I was waiting for came only after we walked a few kilometres through the slippery path. We reached an abandoned quarry that had since become a lake. While standing on its edge, I noticed a flat rock jutting out of the water. And, that was my spot. But how could I persuade Gadgil to sit there? I was sure he would say no, and it looked a bit risky, too. Just when we were about to return, I asked him, “Sir, if you don't mind, can I get a picture over there?” He said, “Yes, if you hold my hand and help me to sit there.” I helped him fold his pants, and untied the shoes, held his hand and helped him sit on the rock. Dipping his feet in the water, he smiled at me. And, I went shutter-happy!