Music celebrity Ehsaan Noorani meets prankster schoolmate Perzon Zend for a riot of a catch-up
Ehsaan Noorani and Perzon Zend rediscover brun maska and mawa cake at Yazdani Bakery. Pics/Bipin Kokate
Ehsaan Noorani, 58, guitarist, music composer, part of Shankar Ehsaan Loy
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Perzon Zend, 58, restaurateur and entrepreneur
Once inseparable, musician Ehsaan Noorani and businessman schoolmate Perzon Zend, reconnected recently.
Contemporary film music royalty (the mantle worn lightly), Ehsaan sports a fixed bemused grin in the company of his ebullient friend. They revisit Yazdani, where Perzon’s grandfather and father, Merwan Zend Kabir and Zend Zend, were legendary proprietors.
Famously popping khari twists, mawa cake, oat and raisin biscuits from century-old wood-fire ovens, Yazdani continues baking multigrain loaves for cafes like the little al fresco near their alma mater, where we meet. Perzon mock-threatening, “If Ehsaan hadn’t chosen me as the pal for this page, I would climb any damn stage he’s on and bash him!”
At their Cathedral School 40th year reunion
Perzon Zend: Buddy of buddies, Ehsaan has been my partner in crime. We shared desks almost throughout school, ranking second-last and last every term. The only ones below were those that flunked.
Ehsaan Noorani: Leaving school brought a total turnaround for us “bad students”. Academic records alone hardly define you. At heart and in essence, we still haven’t lost the sense of mischief. It’s important remaining true to yourself.
PZ: Mrs Punnoose, our class
teacher in despair repeatedly said, “Zend and Noorani, you will sit together and fail together.” We just laughed shamelessly.
EN: Risked being kicked out, in fact. Seeing a physics chapter with three men in gas masks, I said something silly about muzzled dogs. We burst out giggling unstoppably.
There were pink cards for bad behaviour, yellow for poor studies. My mother was summoned when I collected both colours.
Easy riders channelling “Yeh dosti…” a la Sholay outside their alma mater
PZ: His mum at least came for Open Days. Mine never got to know she was called. We chose different optional subjects. Irun baker roots led me to take cookery.
EN: I selected carpentry, to figure dovetail joints, make stools and stuff. Mr Ranji who taught it, bonded with me, discovering he and I lost our fathers when we were only five (Architect Dilawar Noorani is credited for designing iconic 1960s Bombay buildings, including the country’s first skyscraper, Usha Kiran, and the plan for a revolving restaurant at Mahalaxmi.)
PZ: We belong to hardworking families, believing in what I in turn tell my children: “Mehnat karo, neeyat saaf rakho.”
EN: Perzon and I had bungalows in Lonavla and went fishing for guppies. Our Scouts camp there was a high point of summer holidays. I played rugby. Perzon was seriously into every sport. Name a game, it was his.
PZ: We played a lot, ate a lot. For lunch we ran to Yazdani. Even bellies full of several brun maska rounds, we thought nothing of dabaoing kheema pao in Civil, the chilya joint next door. After rugby practice we hit the Frankie stall at Churchgate Station.
EN: On the way to Yazdani was an antique shop selling old coins and Aviator diaries for 25 paise. We were regular at the Keralite nimbu-paaniwala opposite school, forever owing him credit. So were we fixtures at the chana-singwala and hawker of kacchi kairi with chillies.
PZ: We rode Bus Number 3, living on parallel Churchgate roads. I ensured no one else occupied the seat I “caught” for him. I was the school toughie; he, my protected friend.
Our common creative pastime was doodling. Ehsaan was especially good. I sketched styles of jeans, which were novel then. Our drawings transformed kings, defaced conquerors. Cleanshaven rulers were given beards, Indira Gandhi a moustache. If Mughals won a war in history books, I pretended to strangle Ehsaan. Imagine doing that these days!
EN: Exactly. Sad how far playful actions are politicised, overreacted to. We, on the other hand, saw a Bombay free of polarisation. Super-safe, you could enjoy a 3 am head massage at the Gateway, dance in the rain without worrying about disease. Kids now fear terrible things.
PZ: We were always into music. My exposure was to Western classical, at most Engelbert (Humperdinck). Cult numbers like Kung Fu Fighting, groups like Osibisa, were exceptions. Ehsaan was heavily into rock, of course. “Smoke on the water…” blasting with plenty of every other kind of smoke swirling around. Not my scene, boss. Drinking at home before partying, I walked out of such a do. We cut off for two decades. He went to Lala’s, me to College of Agriculture, Kolhapur.
EN: I learnt music (with guru Bismarck Rodrigues) and rarely missed Saturday Date on radio hosted by Pola Mistry. But my music roots lay largely in school. I imagined myself as a rocker, never in Bollywood. When late to reach in the morning, prefects who were band members, Ravi Khote and Rohit Watsa, called me: “Noorani, come out.” Great that instead of detention or push-ups punishments, they gave me their guitars to strum.
Pegasus and Crosswinds were bands I started with, never dreaming of becoming a film musician. My mum listened to movie music, though. I was a big Jeetendra fan, watching Jigri Dost eight times, Farz four times.
PZ: Pure masti was our thing. Mere ko, no issues. With a paowala father, folks expected few fancy graces from me.
EN: We’re Light of Asia rather than Bombay Gym guys. Extremely shy, we were unhip “sideys” for the cool crowd and stood separately, awkwardly at socials.
It’s perfectly okay today, but back then few opted for music over mainstream universities. Many comfortably had father’s businesses to fall back on. The ones who dismissively said a polite, “Umm, interesting” when I was going to the Musicians Institute in LA, suddenly gushed post-2001. Hindi film music gained fresh currency with Dil Chahta Hai and Kal Ho Naa Ho then, and Shankar Ehsaan Loy grew popular.
PZ: What matters is that, back in touch much later in life, we stay the same happy boys. Years down, Ehsaan is his ever-smiling self. His success makes me so proud.
EN: I appreciate that Perzon can keep me grounded. We’re very real people.
Author-publisher Meher Marfatia writes monthly on city friendships. You can reach her at meher.marfatia@mid-day.com/www.mehermarfatia.com
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