Cleaning cupboards does not bring out just dust. It brings along with it several unforgettable memories as well.
Which is what happened recently when I decided, on one hot Sunday afternoon, to take out a big box of my film collection to sort out. And, along with the many AR Rahman cassettes from the 90s that I greatly treasure, tumbled out the audio cassette of Tamil play Crazy Thieves in Palavakkam that I must have heard atleast a hundred times growing up.
I remembered the jokes being ‘crazy’ back then. It was probably the best conversation-starter when I went to meet the man himself in his humble Mandaveli residence, a decade ago when I was a rookie reporter with another publication. Mohan was surprised that I recalled most of the jokes, and had a hearty time recalling the days in which he wrote them.
Back then (and till date), I am known among my colleagues for my pun-related mokka jokes, the inspiration for which is mostly Mohan. I told him that, and even cracked a mokka during our conversation, to which he remarked, ‘Vandhu sendhuru en kitta’ (Come and join my troupe).
I wish I had, but I did have the opportunity of meeting him several times after that for interviews. He was most happy when I joined The Hindu and happy to know that I lived quite close to his residence as well. Mohan was always a pure “Mylapore man” — he loved the veedhis of the neighbourhood. Once, when I asked him about his love for the area, he jovially remarked, “If you take me to Mambalam, I start feeling homesick.”
- Filmmaker K Balachander, after being impressed by Mohan’s play, offered him the chance to write dialogues for Poikkal Kudhirai, which was based on the play Marriage Made in Saloon
- Known for his frequent collaboration with Kamal Haasan, Mohan wrote dialogues for cult movies such as Michael Madhana Kama Rajan, Apoorva Sagotharargal, Sathi Leelavathi, Avvai Shanmugi, and Panchathanthiram to mention a few. Vasool Raja MBBS was the last film that Kamal and Mohan worked together.
- In addition to writing screenplays and dialogues, Mohan also played cameo roles in films such as Indian, Arunachalam, Pammal K Sambandam and Naan E.
Mohan was a strict believer in the joint family system (he lived in one himself) and loved Mylapore. Until a few years ago, you could still see him take a walk in the neighbourhood and share a pleasant word with everyone. He would make it a point to introduce me to everyone in his house every time I went – and those meetings would last for more than an hour when he would crack me up with several jokes, and I would meekly try fielding my own mokka jokes, which he’d greatly appreciate. He was also a big fan of PG Wodehouse, and would often say, “He is PG Wodehouse, and we comedians will always be only UG Wodehouse.”
I last met him in December last year when we did a special on Tamil film Ethir Neechal turning 50 years. He was weak then — his hands were trembling constantly — but his sense of humour was still very much intact.
I cannot forget the time when I called him a few years ago on his birthday, asking him what plans he had for the day. “Tachi, Taachi,” he remarked. It took me a minute to get that he was referring to ‘curd rice and sleep’. Somewhere up there, I’m sure he’d be still cracking jokes and craving for that one bowl of...tachi mammu.