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              Mumbai: 
              Getting an appointment with Shiv Sena chief Bal Thackeray was akin 
              to climbing Mt. Everest.
 A maze of people around him, everyone rumoured to be "very close" 
              to the 'Tiger' had to be called for seeking a personal meeting 
              with him.
 
 After going through the entire rigmarole and thanks to the 
              intervention of a former party MP, I finally got the green signal 
              - an appointment to interview the Sena supremo for The Week 
              magazine, where I worked then, on April 10, 1999.
 
 Excited and apprehensive, I went along with my photographer 
              colleague Dinesh Parab (now senior photographer, DNA), to be 
              present at the awe-inspiring gates of Matoshri - the Thackeray 
              residence in Bandra East, central Mumbai - well before the 
              appointed hour of 11 a.m.
 
 After clearing the main gate and two rounds of police security, a 
              few tough-looking party activists cast an X-ray vision over us. 
              Then, one of them politely showed us inside to a small room on the 
              ground floor of Matoshri.
 
 It was quite well-appointed without being loud, and we waited on a 
              sofa, almost trembling - both Parab and I were to meet Balasaheb 
              in person for the first time.
 
 As we tried to relax, with huge pictures of Thackeray and his 
              family members staring down at us, a door opened on one side of 
              the room and an aide beckoned us.
 
 Believing this to be another level of check-up, we got up and 
              entered.
 
 I almost missed a beat - the Tiger himself, Thackeray, with a 
              gentle smile on his face stood bang opposite, ready to receive me.
 
 He was sporting his trademark dark brown glasses, a full length 
              comfortable kurta-pyjama attire and a new wonder - a large cigar 
              in his mouth. He offered a warm and firm handshake that served to 
              chase away all my anxieties, Parab touched his feet. We were both 
              relaxed, looking forward to the rare experience.
 
 As per his instructions, I was carrying a small tape-recorder 
              which I switched on. He had kept another large tape-recorder of 
              his own on a side-table which he switched on!
 
 "You know, sometime back there was this foreign magazine interview 
              controversy. So, now I insist on taping all my interviews and keep 
              my own copy," he grinned.
 
 I started with a message of gratitude for saving my life once - He 
              looked at me, puzzled and I recounted the incident briefly.
 
 It was during the December 1992-1993 Mumbai communal riots that my 
              house in the north-west suburbs was targeted for an attack one 
              cold dark night. I made a frantic landline call (mobiles did not 
              exist in those days) to my boss, D.K. Raikar in The Indian Express 
              office, (now Group Editor, Lokmat Group of Newspapers).
 
 Raikar immediately assured to help out and he in turn called up 
              Matoshri and spoke to Thackeray and his aides.
 
 Thackeray asked Raikar my name and caste and Raikar said he is a 
              Dawoodi Bohra apparently, Thackeray shot back, saying Dawoodi 
              Bohras are 'exempted' from the riots!
 
 Nevertheless, he immediately ordered his local 'shakhas' to 
              organise security by his own rampaging Shiv Sainiks, to the entire 
              housing complex where I lived, for nearly three weeks. Thanks to 
              Thackeray a total of half a dozen Muslim families emerged 
              unscathed from the bloody riots.
 
 After hearing this, Thackeray shook hands, smiled and muttered: 
              "People have all kinds of misconceptions about me, but the reality 
              is quite different."
 
 He was absolutely relaxed and answered a wide range of political, 
              general and even a few personal questions during the two-hour long 
              interview.
 
 In between, on three occasions, a buzzer went on his telephone - 
              "Sorry, please excuse me" he said to me each time.
 
 I was taken aback and Parab's jaw dropped - imagine, the Shiv Sena 
              Tiger apologizing!
 
 I dared to ask why he gave up his trademark pipe for a cigar, he 
              said: "Times change, habits change" and smiled, but the cigar was 
              never lit.
 
 He spoke in a mix of Marathi, Hindi and English, some potentially 
              controversial statements he said slowly for the tapes to catch 
              correctly.
 
 After the interview, we generally chatted till another buzzer - 
              Thackeray muttered a yes and the door opened again.
 
 There, standing before us was Maharashtra Chief Minister Narayan 
              Rane, his wife, Uddhav Thackeray, his wife Rashmi and small Aditya.
 
 Rane straight lunged for Thackeray's feet, somebody produced a 
              golden tray and he (Thackeray) applied a 'tilak' on the chief 
              minister's forehead as I stood beside watching the scene in awe. 
              Parab clicked away furiously.
 
 "It is my chief minister's birthday today, he has come for my 
              blessings," Thackeray turned and informed me.
 
 I also shook hands and wished Rane, and also shook hands with a 
              much-younger looking Uddhav.
 
 Then, Thackeray applied a 'tilak' to all those present in the room 
              and gently requested Parab to click a few group pictures.
 
 Shortly after, we shook hands and left Matoshri armed with a 
              two-hour interview and memories of a lifetime on the great 
              encounter with the Sena Tiger.
 
              
 (Quaid Najmi can be contacted at q.najmi@ians.in)
 
 
 
              
 
               
 
              
 
 
 
 
              
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