Will the real “slumdog millionaire” please stand up?
He was the only man to win the grand prize on India’s “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” And though he wasn’t a slumdog, he has now devoted his life to helping impoverished children.
By Fiona Ehlers
Will the real “slumdog millionaire” please stand up? | Salon Arts & Entertainment
March 23, 2009 | Harshvardhan Nawathe is sitting in front of a small television set in his tiny apartment in the northern part of Mumbai. It is a Sunday evening in early March, one week after the Oscar awards ceremony, and Nawathe is watching a talk show called “We the People.” The guests on the program are arguing about the film “Slumdog Millionaire,” which won eight Oscars. They – and the rest of India – have been arguing for days now.
Harshvardhan, who is known by his nickname Harsh in India, was also invited to be a guest on the program. The subject is whether the film, in which an orphan boy from the slums wins a quiz show and becomes a millionaire, is offensive to India, or whether India ought to be proud of the film’s success at the Oscars. Harsh declined the invitation.
He switches off the TV, picks up his 4-month-old son and places him in his arms. Then he speaks to the baby and makes faces at him, just as the experts recommend in the book “Baby Minds Brain-Building,” which he is reading. He wants to make sure that Saraansh grows up to be clever, just like his father.
Nawathe wants nothing to do with all the commotion surrounding “Slumdog”; as a father he doesn’t have the time anymore. He works with children in the slums of Bombay – or Mumbai, the city’s official name today – as part of a foundation that pays for teachers, schoolbooks, clothing and computer courses, so that none of the children in its programs will leave school without graduating.
There is probably no one in India who would have as much to say about “Slumdog Millionaire” as Nawathe. He saw the film shortly after it was released in India in January. He wanted to know whether he would recognize any part of his own story in the film. He and his wife took a taxi rickshaw to the nearest movie theater, where only the last two rows were taken. As is the custom in Bombay movie theaters, the audience stood up and sang the Indian national anthem before the film began. Shortly after it starts, when protagonist Jamal jumps into a cesspool full of excrement, Nawathe’s wife lost her appetite and stopped eating her popcorn. She found the scene disgusting and felt that her honor as an Indian woman had been assaulted. Nawathe was also disappointed. But it was just a film. A fairy tale from Hollywood – or Bollywood. Either way – just a film. The reality is different, he thought. My life is real.
Nawathe is India’s real “slumdog millionaire.” He was the first and so far only winner of the grand prize on a quiz show called “Kaun Banega Crorepati” (KBC), the Hindi version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” To date, no one has made it as far on the show as Nawathe did.
More than eight years ago, on Oct. 19, 2000, Nawathe won 10 million rupees (€150,000 or $195,000), the biggest possible jackpot at the time. A third of all India, or about 350 million people, sat glued to their TV sets at home or in front of the windows of electronics stores to watch Nawathe, a poor student at the time. To this day, he is still recognized on the streets of Bombay, where he is a folk hero, and his story is much more popular in India than the film from “the Hollywood.” What does fame do to someone who comes from the bottom of society and suddenly shoots to the very top? How long does the dream last? And what happens afterward?
Nawathe saw many images and read many articles after that Oscar night. He saw Rubina Ali and Azharuddin Ismail, 9 and 10 years old, the amateur actors in “Slumdog Millionaire,” on the red carpet in Los Angeles. He saw them being picked up at the airport in Bombay by a motorcade of cars, saw garlands of flowers being hung around their necks and saw the convoy drive them through the city to the slum where they live. It is called Garib Nagar, or Poor Place. He saw images of Azharuddin, who played the brother of the “Slumdog” protagonist Jamal in the film, sitting on a plastic chair in front of a hut made of corrugated metal, making cool gestures he had learned on the red carpet, flashing the cheeky grin that everyone loves and spreading his fingers to form the victory sign.
He also saw how Azharuddin’s father slapped the boy, because he had promised the media an interview and Azharuddin became tired of answering so many questions. It was just a slap, but one with consequences. He read that the boy now has a group of self-proclaimed advisors, who loiter in front of the hut and call journalists, who give the “advisors” rupee bills for every story. There were photos of the father slapping the boy, and the story was printed in newspapers around the world. After that, Azharuddin had to give even more interviews, and India’s women and child development minister threatened to order an investigation into the case and the father apologized. Now jealous and gloating neighbors come to the hut and argue with Azharuddin’s parents, saying that their sons would have been more suitable for the role, and asking where the money the boy made from the film had gone and when they would move into a new apartment.
The news stories remind Nawathe of his own tale. He knows what it feels like – the fame followed by the letdown. He could teach the child stars of Garib Nagar a thing or two. He knows that fame is a dangerous thing. Don’t loiter, Nawathe would say, go back to school instead!
Nawathe, a grounded, modest man of 35, did something with his life, despite the early fame, the temptations and the many millions. His win was like a curse at times, because he was wholly unprepared for it.
Nawathe was never a child from the slums. Instead, he was one of those well-behaved boys depicted on posters used to teach good habits to children in Indian schools, the same posters that are sold in flea markets in the West. He was diligent, clean, punctual, a good Hindu and always showed respect for his elders. He comes from a family with modest means, but his parents took care of him. His mother made sure that he received a good education, and his father, a policeman who worked in an anti-corruption unit, told him bedtime stories about frauds and tax evaders, and would also read to him from the “Mahabharata,” India’s ancient heroic epic.
Eight years ago, when Nawathe was 27, he wanted to become a police detective like his father. He spent months cramming for the police entrance examination, considered among the most difficult in the country, by studying review books and learning about politics, history and political science. In the evenings, he would put away his books in the family’s tiny apartment on the seventh floor of a rundown high-rise building and, with his mother, watch the new TV show everyone was talking about.
His favorite actor, Amitabh Bachchan, was the show’s host, a bear of a man with a booming voice who the Indians call “Big B.” A popular leading man in 1970s Bollywood films, Bachchan is the actor for whose autograph Jamal jumps into the cesspool in “Slumdog.” When Nawathe and his mother watched the show, he knew every answer, and she convinced him to audition.
In October 2000, Nawathe was sitting at the KBC studio in Bombay’s Film City to participate in the qualifying round, known in India as “Fastest Finger First.” The contestants were asked to put a number of presidents in chronological order. It took Nawathe 9.1 seconds. The crane camera zoomed in and Bachchan led him to the hot seat. Nawathe stared at the screen, hardly saying a word. It was child’s play for him. He was well prepared.
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Perhaps Nawathe’s story inspired the author of the book “Rupees! Rupees!,” on which the film is based. Nawathe doesn’t know. The author, an Indian diplomat, never contacted him, nor did Danny Boyle, the director of “Slumdog.” Nawathe lives a very quiet life today, focusing on his family and his job. When he drives out to Kandivali, a poor neighborhood, there are no longer any cameras.
He is sitting on the floor of a classroom, on a shabby red carpet. Today is a test day. The pupils’ knowledge of mathematics and Hindi will be tested. The children are given white pieces of paper with a large number of multiple-choice questions. Sometimes they pluck Nawathe’s sleeve and ask him for the correct answer. The teachers record each child’s test results in tables. They say that the children are making progress. Nawathe’s organization offers remedial teaching for pupils who are behind in their studies, a service that is urgently needed in Bombay’s government-run schools, where 40 to 50 students in a typical class rattle off a mantra of information they have memorized while their teacher talks on his mobile phone or reads the newspaper.
The children are from Poisar, a slum. They haven’t seen “Slumdog.” And why should they? They are all too familiar with the images it depicts. But they admire Nawathe. Their parents have told them about his quiz show victory years ago. The parents trust Nawathe. They no longer send their children out to beg or to collect garbage but to attend his classes. They say, if anyone can teach our children, then he is the one. Sometimes Nawathe visits the parents in their huts and tells them: “If I gave your child a million rupees today, you would buy jewelry and cars, and then you would sell everything again. The only currency that remains is education. It’s the only one that pays.”
He plans to fly to New Delhi on the next day, but not to appear on a talk show or at some other public event. This meeting is about the future. He will negotiate with donors to raise the funds needed to accept 8,000 additional children into his remedial program. It will be a good day – for Nawathe, for Bombay and for India.
Translated from the German by Christopher Sultan.
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