She left the stage to a thundering applause. To her surprise, a hundred people were up on their feet, whistling and hooting. As she tried to find her way back to her seat, she was surrounded by people in suits wanting to congratulate her.
It all felt quite strange.
About ten minutes ago, hardly anyone in the room knew who she was. And suddenly, everyone was seeking an answer to that question. All the eyes turned towards this nineteen-year-old college student as she sat back in her seat, still uncomfortable with all the attention, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
I smiled when she turned towards me and said – “Sir, maza aya”. But the ones who make others laugh often mask their internal pains.
It would be hard to imagine but these bright shining eyes were filled with tears a couple of weeks ago. Annesha’s Instagram account with more than 10,000 followers was hacked. Despite numerous complaints to cyber cells, she found no respite.
She cursed Mark every moment under her breath. While all this affected her mental health, her physical health wasn’t doing great either. She was admitted to the hospital just a week before Exuberance. It was as if God wanted to test her mettle.
And Annesha was ready for it.
With dreams of making a name for herself, she left the Steel City to set foot in the City of Joy, a day before the contest. It was the first time, she was staying alone away from home. As she waited at the reception to get her room keys, one of the senior members who had heard her speech previously said to me, “She’s good but she won’t win. Have you seen her competition?”
For some reason, it hurt me a bit. Being the Area Director, I had been closely associated with her club. I had seen her speeches at the Club, Area, and Division level contests. I always thought she had a chance.
I took her aside and chatted for a while. She looked slightly nervous and yet excited for the contest. We discussed a few things about her speech and then she went to practice in her room.
On the morning of the contest, I get a call,” Sir, I’m not feeling well. I’ll be resting in my room.”
While eleven players were demonstrating their impromptu speaking skills, I was just concerned about the one player who wasn’t on the field.
It got over quickly.
People started putting paneer on their plates and I still didn’t see her anywhere. The vanilla ice cream had almost melted and yet there was no sign of Annesha.
Just as the Humorous Speech Contest was about to start, I saw her sitting quietly at a table. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I asked her, “Are you okay?”
She replied in a feeble voice, “I’ve taken some meds. I think I’ll be able to contest.”
“Did you eat something?” I enquired.
“No, I am alright.” She replied.
As the judges marked their ballot for contestant number two, I saw Annesha staring blankly at her table.
“You’re up next. Go towards the stage”, I startled her.
She got up and walked mechanically. Her mind still in a state of dizziness from the medicines that she took. The contest chair asked her to perform the audio check.
The stage was set.
“Darling look into my eyes….”, she started. Only to be stopped by the contest chair who was yet to announce her title. The audience laughed but they were laughing at her, not with her.
She’d lost a wicket before the first ball was even bowled.
I’ve seen accomplished speakers lose track after faltering on stage. I’ve seen people forget their entire speeches under pressure. I’ve seen people run away from the stage.
And here was a nineteen-year-old girl standing before a hundred people trying to keep her cool. Annesha’s lips quivered for a moment, but then she summoned a bright, albeit shaky, smile, her eyes sparkling with determination to continue despite the stumble. My words can’t do justice to explain what happened next.
Remember Yuvraj Singh hitting Stuart Broad for six sixes in an over?
Quite similar.
She hit one punch after another generating a ripple of laughter that echoed across the room. Asthma patients would have had to use their inhalers while she was speaking. I fell off my chair twice laughing. It’s true when they say laughter is contagious.
This Pied Piper owned the stage. The dizziness had disappeared. The loss of 10k followers was replaced by a hundred chuckling faces. I guess she was still hungry not for food but for laughs.
The audience leaned forward eagerly, their laughter growing louder with each joke as if feeding off Annesha’s infectious energy. “Could David beat Goliath?”.
I didn’t know. And I didn’t care.
All I knew was that this girl was something special. To perform at this stage under such conditions required immense courage, will, and determination. She masked her pains quite well. It reminded me of Mera Naam Joker where the protagonist always tries to make everyone smile irrespective of how he’s feeling inside. I guess that’s what drives an artist to make others happy. But the audience rarely knows the story behind the laughs.
