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Why Salman Khan’s Jail Sentence Has Saddened Many Cancer Patients

Many cancer patients are relentlessly calling me to send Salman their love and prayers, writes Viji Venkatesh.

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Ever since the judgment on Salman Khan in the blackbuck poaching case was pronounced in a Jodhpur court, many of the cancer patients I work with have been devastated. They are the ones who have either met or spoken to the actor. They are relentlessly calling me, texting on WhatsApp and Facebook, to send him their love and prayers. They are telling me that even their cancer diagnosis did not make them as sad as they feel today.

Why? Because there's more to Salman than meets the eye.

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Salman is someone I have known for over 24 years. The first time I met him in Tata Hospital, he gave me his phone number and said I could call anytime if there was anyone in need.

Many cancer patients are relentlessly calling me to send Salman their love and prayers, writes Viji Venkatesh.
Salman Khan with Viji Venkatesh’s comic book for children suffering from cancer.
(Photo Courtesy: Viji Venkatesh)

Our shared concern for people diagnosed with cancer and its trauma has ensured that we stay in touch. When he needs support in helping someone navigate the difficult path to cancer treatment, he calls me. Likewise, when any patient needs his support, all I have to do is pick up the phone and talk to him. Today, I'm sharing one of the many instances when he made a cancer survivor his confidante.

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Hello Brother, Mangesh!

This happened one morning in 2009. Young Mangesh had been accepted into the patient-assistance programme I work with. A week before, he had come with his mother, a daily-wage worker, to collect his first supply of medication that would keep his leukaemia under control. People were drawn to him from day one as he was bright-eyed and wore a warm, happy smile.

The calm, unquestioning acceptance of a life-altering event by a child, never fails to move me.

Many cancer patients are relentlessly calling me to send Salman their love and prayers, writes Viji Venkatesh.
Mangesh, a cancer patient from Yavatmal.
(Photo Courtesy: Viji Venkatesh)

As I entered the building that morning, unusually early, I was in time to see Mangesh and his mother being turned away by the watchman asking them to come back at 11 am. Sensing their disappointment, I shepherded them into the office and thanked the watchman for his concern at the same time.

It was barely half-past nine but I asked Ashok, our office assistant, to take his papers out and requested my colleague Gita if she would attend to the case. Recognising the young lad, Gita was only too happy to talk to them and guide them through the process before beginning her day's work with emails and so on.

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London... No, Mumbai Dreams

During this process, a sequence of events occurred, each linked to another, that resulted in giving Mangesh great happiness. Catching sight of a photograph of Salman on our wall with one of our patients, Mangesh wistfully told Gita that he adored the star. Being in Mumbai now he nursed a secret, virtually impossible dream of seeing the actor sometime.

Coming from the interior district of Yavatmal, being in this big city itself was a source of wonder for Mangesh.

Hearing him say “Salman”, I just decided to take a chance and see if I could get the actor on the phone to make a part of Mangesh’s dream come true.

Salman never takes morning calls as he is in his gym till almost lunch (in all the years I have known him, I think only once have I ever managed to get him on the line before noon), but I took the chance. After all, things were working out for Mangesh that day.

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Phir Milenge

Unfortunately, he did not pick up the phone and I had to console the young lad whose bright eyes had dimmed in disappointment. I promised him I would try again the next time he was here. Nodding his sweet acceptance of what was not to be, Mangesh left the office to go and collect his clinical supply. Gita and I exchanged helpless glances.

Within a minute of the duo leaving the office, my cell phone rang and it was Salman returning my call. I could not believe it when I saw his name flash on my little screen. I said, “Oh, my God! Someone call them back.” I rushed out, all the while talking to Salman and telling him why I had called him and if he would stay on the line.

Salman was cool and began talking to me about his Foundation ‘Being Human’ (of which I am on of the trustees). Outside, as I walked towards the street, there was no sign of Mangesh and his mother. I had to let Salman go, telling him I would call back if we managed to get the patient back.

Saying he was off to the studio for a day-long shoot, he was happy to have me call him back. The watchman returned too, saying the mother and son were not to be seen anywhere.

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God Tussi Great Ho!

I went back feeling a bit sad that Mangesh had lost this wonderful chance, when all of a sudden I remembered his mother's cell phone number. We had her number in the database. Gita asked them to come back immediately. Getting Salman back on line was no issue for it seemed he was waiting for the call. He answered the first ring saying, "Ok Viji ji , put my new friend on the line”.

Believe me, listening to the conversation that followed, and looking at the expressions that flitted across Mangesh's ecstatic face, it did seem like a new friendship was born that day. Merits of Salman's latest films were communicated, his choice of co-stars appreciated, and the latest songs from his new films admired.

Some very eager nodding and rolling of eyes obviously meant Mangesh was listening excitedly. We later found out Salman had told him all about the latest film he was shooting for.

Mangesh's cup of joy overflowed that morning, and we will never forget the wide, happy smile on his face as he spoke with his idol.

That morning, the sun shone in our windowless basement office, for sure through Mangesh’s beaming eyes.

(Viji Venkatesh, is the Region Head (India & South Asia), of The Max Foundation. She tweets @vijivenkatesh. This is a personal blog and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)

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