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December 6, 1997

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V Gangadhar

Live Life Kingsize

Dominic Xavier's illustration Crusading, frankly, is not my cup of tea. I can't imagine myself carrying placards or posters and marching along shouting slogans. I don't think I would ever go on a fast to press an issue. Quite often, I am invited by fellow journalists to support them in their 'crusade' for the freedom of the press which, they feel, was threatened by various forces. I wish them well, but stay at home because freedom of the press is not threatened in India.

All this does not mean that I do not fight any battles. Want to know something about my one-man crusade against smoking? Now, smoking is strictly banned in Bombay's suburban trains. Yet, while commuting, I often see some of the passengers smoking. If one of them came and sat next to me, I frowned at him, took out my handkerchief and gently waved it in front of my nose.

If the guilty smoker was sensitive, he put out his cigarette or moved elsewhere. But if the fellow passenger continued to smoke, I told him politely that smoking was banned in local trains and that he was creating a nuisance. If he still persisted, I threatened to call the authorities. This tactic generally worked and the smoker often walked away in a huff, glaring at me and muttering ***expletives deleted***.

Some years ago, I came across a new item which linked smoking with impotence. I clipped the item, made dozens of photocopies and took them with me whenever I travelled by train. If I found someone smoking in my coach, I offered him one of the copies and asked him to read it. This ploy was often successful, particularly with young smokers. They read the news item, looked at me guiltily and put out their cigarettes.

I cannot stand cigarette smoke; it makes me react violently. Once, when a passenger sitting next to me continued to smoke despite my requests and, later, threats, I leaned towards him and made retching noises. "Cigarette smoke," I told him, "makes me puke." He quickly left his seat and return.

I did smoke a cigarette once - but that was decades ago. The very first puff caused me to cough and choke; I immediately decided this was not for me. But almost all my college friends took to smoking. These included members of the college cricket team who were supposed to be fit and on the go. When they did not have money to buy cigarettes, they borrowed money or the poison weeds from their friends. This sort of addiction bothered me.

Several of my friends in the village left for Bombay or other cities in search of a job as soon as they finished college. On their return, I always saw them with a cigarette in their hands. I guess it was a show of liberation, a coming of age. Smoking was a challenge to authority, to parental control. Young men always smoked on the sly and hid their cigarettes whenever the elders approached them. For some, the toilet was the favourite place to take a couple of puffs.

In those days, cinema theatres were not air-conditioned nor did they ban smoking. As a result, thick clouds of cigarette smoke perpetually palled the auditoriums. I think screen heroes had something to do with this fascination for smoking. Tough guys like Humphrey Bogart, Clark Gable or Burt Lancaster were never without a cigarette.. The bad guys, led by Edward G Robinson, George Raft and George Sanders smoked endlessly. The heroes of Western films rolled their own cigarettes, their expertise matching their skills in drawing their guns and shooting down cattle rustlers or professional gunmen. One never saw Joel McCrea, Robert Taylor, Randolph Scott, Glen Ford or the other cowboy heroes without a cigarette in their hands. The heroines, too, smoked.

On the Hindi screen, the heroes followed the example of the Hollywood stars. Ashok Kumar was always with a pipe or lighting one cigarette or the other. Naturally, young men addicted to films became also became addicted to cigarettes.

Elders opposed smoking more on moral and less on health grounds. Youngsters who smoked, tucked up their dhotis in front of the elders or sported moustaches were labelled adhika prasangi (impertinent fellows) and were given a tongue lashing. Of course, very few people in those days talked about cancer and its link with tobacco.

At the same time, cigarette manufacturers did not go in for overt advertising. They had not got around to sponsoring cricket matches or tennis tournaments. We did not see great cricketers like Vinoo Mankad or Vijay Hazare market cigarettes. But the macho appeal of smoking remained and attracted more and more young men.

We seldom saw women smoking. I guess that was left to the Marys, Julies or Marthas of Hindi films, who held glasses in their hands, cigarettes in their lips and swayed to rhythmic music inside the garish night clubs. These were the molls, usually associated with the villain and they tried to seduce the heroes. Our sympathies were entirely with the poor heroes.

I admit I was attracted to cigarettes in a different way. I liked collecting empty cigarette packets. I particularly admired the Player's Navy Cut pack, which carried the picture of a handsome, bearded sailor. He was more macho and handsome than any other film star and I yearned to be like him. Without smoking a cigarette, that is!

Illustration: Dominic Xavier

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V Gangadhar

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