I saw him the first time with Raveena Tandon at Windsor Sheraton’s Jolly Nabobs. It was the premiere of Arjun Sajnani’s film Agni Varsha. I didn’t know the guy sitting next to Tandon was Samir Singh, who took the place of Mark Mascarenhas at WorldTel.
A few days later, a chance telephonic conversation with Prasad Bidapa, and I realised who Singh was, and immediately fixed a meeting with him. It was a holiday for his 10-member team at his apartment office in Indiranagar. He lived on the same lane, and one ring on his cell and he was at his office in a few minutes.
After over an hour, he said one thing that struck me. “I am difficult to deal with. I like perfection in everything, which is a huge flaw, because no one is perfect, including me.”
The interview was over, but when Samir met Raveena that evening, she didn’t take it kindly. First, Prasad Bidapa’s office people called me, saying, ‘Raveena is blaming Prasad for all this. Please don’t link Samir with her.’
Then, Raveena called me the next day and requested anonymity. “You must be going out with so many women too, but that doesn’t mean they are all your girl friends, right?” she asked. “Similarly, Samir is one of the many friends I go out with. There’s nothing more to our relationship. If there is a new man in my life, you will be the first to know.”
I promised Raveena that I wouldn’t mention any of this in my piece, if that was really the case. And I kept my promise. After all, my story was on Samir’s accomplishments, and if Raveena was not one, I could do without her.
When the story came out, both Samir and Raveena thanked me for the notable omission. We were SMSing each other after that, but I met Samir again only seven months later. And before I met him, I asked my newly-found online friend (who is into name analysis) to give me the dope on Samir. He gave me a 150-word report and I emailed it to Samir pronto and met him on April 29, 2003 at the Oberoi, not knowing it would be the last time I would be meeting him.
“How accurate is the report,” I asked over a glass of orange juice.
“Not bad at all. So much of it is true,” he said, tucking into a fruit salad, his lunch for the day.
A sample of the report goes something like this: ‘Your first name of Samir creates a serious, thoughtful nature, shrewd, efficient, and business-minded. You are one to make your own decisions, and not be influenced by others. You desire independence and freedom from the authority and interference of others. You are not overly ambitious, preferring instead just to seek stable, settled conditions, which are adequate to meet your responsibilities. In your personal relations with others, you are inclined to be rather serious, and not to see the humour others see, or to respond spontaneously. Your positive manner and outlook can make others feel that you are imposing your will on them and even interfering in their affairs.’
It was supposed to be a casual meeting of friends, but I decided to milk it professionally. And Samir didn’t mind at all. I asked him about how he manages his money, and he was game for a detailed tete-a-tete on all things currency. He also posed gamely on the lawns of the Oberoi and thanked me for making him realise that he indeed didn’t own anything big enough to call it an accomplishment.
But he did agree on one thing. “My greatest expense is on wining and dining friends and folks,” he confessed. ” Each time out, I end up spending eight grand. But for the past one-and-a-half months, I was sick. It’s a good saving because I would be spending 8 grand 2-3 times a week.”
The very same day, I emailed him a story I did in the tabloid I used to work for: Bangalore’s very own vagina monologues where six city women had spoken about their private lives. “I would really like to meet these women,” Samir quipped.
But destiny had other things on its mind. After a late night party at The Park on Saturday, May 17, 2003, Samir’s Opel Astra ran into a bus a kilometre away from the hotel and he died immediately.
Whom gods love, indeed die young.
It has been five years since, but it feels just like yesterday. One never knows when Death walks into our lives and takes us away to a world no one knows about. Death is certain and unpredictable. Therefore, it’s best to be prepared for it. And how? By living life simply and on our terms and living life for now. After all, who has seen tomorrow?
