In a span of 75 years, many things have changed drastically, and when you compare how things were then to how they are now, it’s quite awe-inspiring. My mind goes back to the process of booking movie tickets, which used to be a ritual in itself. In my early childhood, advance booking wasn’t a widespread practice. We just went to the theatre, bought tickets on the spot, and enjoyed the movie. I do remember hearing about tickets being sold in black, though as a child, I didn’t understand the concept or mechanics behind it.

Then came the advance booking culture, primarily to avoid the disappointment of missing out on tickets. However, booking tickets in advance wasn’t simple back then. Theatres were often spread out across the city, and if you wanted to reserve tickets, someone had to physically go to the theatre and stand in line. Sometimes we relied on friends or acquaintances who lived nearer to the theatre to help with booking. It was a laborious and time-consuming process.

I remember once; while booking tickets for Dhool Ka Phool, I saw a sign that read “Red. Rates.” It puzzled me for years, and only later did I understand it meant reduced rates—possibly for weekday matinee shows.

The disappointment of not getting tickets after reaching the theatre was quite common, but two instances are still fresh in my mind. On one occasion, just as we reached the ticket counter, the “Housefull” board went up, and the window slammed shut right in our faces. On another occasion, a friend and I had plans to see separate movies—he was going to watch an MGR film, and I was keen on watching a Sivaji Ganesan movie. As fate would have it, I couldn’t get a ticket for the Sivaji movie, and so I rushed to join my friend at the MGR screening, only to find myself seated right next to him. He gave me a knowing look for having tried to stray from our original plan!

There was another time when my family and I were all excited to watch Herbie Goes Bananas. We traveled quite a distance to Mount Road, but when we arrived at the theatre, the dreaded “Housefull” sign greeted us. As I tried to console my disappointed kids, a gentleman approached me and handed me four tickets without charging anything extra. To this day, it remains a mystery whether he was a black marketeer who took pity on us or a theatre employee with some spare tickets. Whoever he was, I’m still grateful for his kindness.

Despite the temptation, I never believed in buying tickets on the black market. My family knew that, so if we didn’t get tickets, we would simply move on and find something else to do.

Compare that to now, where a few taps on a mobile phone can book you tickets to a dozen theatres at once, all in a single mall complex. It’s so easy, and with malls springing up everywhere, distance is no longer an issue. The world truly feels like it has shrunk.

Continued in 206 - Memory is a Means - Part 1