It is with great sadness that I note the passing of my friend Ravi Baswani. A hugely talented actor and director, Ravi was first and foremost a free spirit committed to the arts. He touched a number of lives, mostly youngsters struggling in Mumbai, trying to make sense of the journey their dreams were taking them on. Young and impish at heart, he was known to possess a caustic sense of humour and did not suffer fools easily, but once he accepted you in his warm embrace you were a part of his family for life.
He will always occupy a special place in the Indian Film Industry because of two movies - Chashme Buddoor and Jaane Bhi Do Yaroon. In the first he played one of three friends who fall for the same neighbourhood girl. This also marked his first appearance in a song on screen - a hillarious spoof on Aap Jaisa Koi from Qurbani. It was a 1983 black comedy however that will always remain the brightest feather in his collection. Jaane Bhi Do Yaroon became a huge cult film and remains till today one of the finest examples of comedy in Indian cinema. Who can forget such classic lines as "thoda khao, thoda phenko", or the scene when Ravi and Naseer, in get ups inspired by Mad Magazine's Spy vs Spy are having a conversation over the phone with one of the bad guys who is in the same room, and while skulking away they accidently bump into each other and interchange phones, then simply continue the conversation, and when they realise that the phones are switched, simply switch them back. It may have defied logic but it remains one of the funniest moments on-screen ever. This was just one example from a film filled with such gems, winning him numerous awards and accolades.
A man of many layers, he could be both extremely generous and unforgiving. Always dedicated to his family and friends, he never married, not wanting to compromise his freedom so he could pursue his art. Anyone who knew him would be familiar with his zeal for life and affectionate nature. A guest in his home could always expect the warmest hospitality and the familiar refrain of "ek to dushman ke yahaan peete hain". I still owe him Rs.1000, borrowed in 1995. I never even tried to repay it, always prefering to remain in his debt, and now I shall forever, the money immaterial (as he often told me), the love everlasting.
Nityanand will never be the same again. Standing in the balcony listening to Andrade's rants from across the street with Ravi's laughter ringing in my ears, walking Shishupal, playing chess with Chots and talking about Munni Begum and Peter Gabriel, discussing film into the wee hours and falling asleep where we sat, those times will stay with me forever.
It still seems so unreal, almost impossible to believe. We will miss you deeply my friend. Wherever you are, may you continue to entertain and make others laugh. We are the poorer without you. You are missed.
"Sarve Bhavantu Sukhinaha"
