Remembering Sheila Dikshit:“I love to dance in the rain, wonder like Alice in Wonderland”

My first meeting with Sheila Diskhit was pretty filmy. A good seven years into journalism, covering politics and Delhi police, I was a bit of a novel firebrand asking tough questions from polity. Unlike today, it used to never backfire.

Once, in late 90s, an untoward incident took place at Delhi’s Jamia Millia Islamia. The students had faced some major brow beatings from outside elements and the police force had entered the campus, deteriorating the situation, beating innocent students black and blue in a free-for-all situation. After about three days of chaos at JMI, Sheila Dikshit, Member of Parliament Salman Khurshid and a few more Congress leaders reached the campus to know the situation on the ground. Quickly a make-shift stage was created near Ghalib Statute and the students swarmed it protesting. Knowing I was a journalist from a reputed newspaper, I was made to stand up on the podium where Dikshit and Khurshid were ready to take brickbats from the angry students. A student leader provoked me, “Please ask question on our behalf. They may not listen to us.”. Taking it as my duty, I shouted at the top of my voice, “Why did you have to wait for three days to make it to this campus. Here students want answers....” before I could complete my sentence, I felt a soft arm around my waist, a reassuring hold of that like a mother.

I turned right to see Sheila ji was almost wrapping me around, smiling endearingly, looking straight into my eyes, she said in an extremely soft tone, “Bete, I was not in Delhi. I just landed and have come straight from the airport. You tell me everything and I assure you all that no injustice will be tolerated on students. They are like my children, you are like my daughter. Take it from a mother than a political leader.”

I melted like a burning candle at its end. Her softness, a calm and composed demeanour and certainly a motherly confidence and smile, did not allow me to throw the second question. Spell-bound I kept on looking at her. So far, I had not seen a leader like her. She was, like a sweet aunty next door or a buzurg at home. Just one statement of hers calmed the agitating students. Before I could realise, they started clapping.

Salman Khurshid backed her saying he wanted to be apprised of the situation. In no time, police was thrown out of the campus and FIR were lodged against the culprits and students who suffered injuries were provided with medical treatment and funds were released by the government. The situation came to normal within a couple of days.

The warmth remained with me and it turned into a bond with her. I used to call her at her residence for a quote or two and I realised that if she was not home, she would make it a point to call me back herself and answer all questions and ask if I needed to know more, even if it was 11 pm at night and the story wasn’t perishable. She taught me a few lessons in humility.

I cannot forget a few other meetings with her as a feature writer. For one of my stories, I had to take her for a meal in a five-star hotel, where, over food, with her food preferences, anecdotes, I had to know her life beyond politics. By then I had stopped covering politics and moved to my favourite beat -- art and culture, literature, theatre and films. With a photojournalist I reached the Central Secretariat to take her, in order to show her the required respect.

We were ushered in without much ado. Security supervisors and others were told in advance. We faced no problems in reaching her.

The moment we reached the Imperial Hotel in New Delhi, the hotel staff rushed to receive her. On sitting we noticed two actors of the Hindi film industry who were famous ‘villains’ of the time, Ranjit and Prem Chopra having a supper. “Arrey Sheila Ji…” both of them came, Ranjit touched her feet and they had a chat for a minute or so. She indicated at me. It’s her interview today, let's talk later, politely. I liked that focus in her. Politicians today feel proud being with film personalities. Those days, it was just the opposite.

We ate lots of things, from simple starters to a full two-course meal. In between she kept on telling me stories of her love life with husband Vinod Dikshit and her best cherished secrets. I became the first one to come out with such apolitical incidents of her life. Her autobiography describing these came much later.

I asked her about her husband Vinod Dikshit, son of independence activist and former West Bengal governor Uma Shankar Dikshit and her love story. “I met him before joining politics. I used to study in Miranda House. We used to travel by DTC bus when I and Vinod were seeing each other. We would just play cross and knots on paper just to be with each other and exchange sweet nothings,” she told me and burst into a shy laughter.

I asked her how she was a strict mother a tough task master as CM. “Mothers have to be a bit strict to keep the family bonded. I make sure my family has at least one meal together. No questions asked. The family that eats together, stays together. Today our entire family keeps on coming to the house and we have a great bonding,” she gave me a winning smile.

And in politics. You took some of the toughest decisions amount the necessity of metro train in Delhi, you faced a lot of criticism. How easy was it for you to be tough, after all, politics is largely a male dominated area?

“After my husband died, my fear of loss vanished. He was the only one I feared losing. So, i took tough decisions without any fear. Kya hota zyada se zyada maar hi to dete?”

And we all know she made a hat-trick as Delhi Chief Minister and fearlessly articulated her opinion, even if at times, it was against her own party people.

We had long finished our lunch and I had to go and file the story but to my amusement, Sheila ji refused to get up. She kept on peeping out of the life size glass door of the restaurant, overlooking lush green gardens and few birds chirping and hunting for food.

It started drizzling. So, I just asked, “Do you like rain? Do you get a chance to drench in it? “Yessss! She almost jumped from her chair; I love rain. I love to dance in the rain. I often do it on my terrace still. I feel young and fresh. I love to cuddle into my bed reading Alice in Wonderland. I Love to be an Alice, wandering in the wonderland with birds, animals, trees….” She started humming a song from Jewel Thief, a film she watched 12 times!

Today she is in her own wonderland.

Move in peace. Adieu!