How the World Came to Me [16]

There was a time when I frequently used to morph into Atahutatem – the Pharaoh who wielded magic but not very effectively. Atahutatem wanted to be a tyrant and a villain but was just too goofy to be either. He had his competitors in the goofy goons played by Sanu.

I do not remember anymore exactly when I thought up Atahutatem, probably when I was in the tenth standard. My imagination might have been prompted by the animation series Mummies Alive. It was broadcast on AXN. I wasn’t terribly fond of Mummies Alive but Sanu was. The show was about a group of mummies who return to life in the 21^st century and take to the superhero’s trade. They had more than faintly inspired the hero, Taraka, which Sanu and I created. I always found those swaggering, muslin draped mummies supremely idiotic and could not understand why Sanu is so awfully fond of them. It is likely that Atahutatem was meant to be my answer to the heroic mummies of Mummies Alive. I cannot say for sure after a decade and a half but it is indeed very possible.

I do not think I spent a lot of time practicing being Atahutatem. Once I thought him up I began to play him often. Long ago, before my age was in double figures, I used to tie a gamcha around my neck and play Superman around the house. I was, thus, not entirely a novice in the thespian’s craft. There were, however, some challenges to be overcome this time. Earlier I simply reenacted the situations Superman used to find himself in the comic strips, this meant that I had a script to follow or improvise upon. With Atahutatem, since he was my own creation, it could not be. Whenever I played Atahutatem it had to be ad lib.

Atahutatem was a villain. He had to be one for young boys find villains cool. He was irascible and an eccentric. He was a conjurer but a rather inefficient one. I wanted him to be an inefficient conjurer lest he run amuck. I do not think he was much concerned with running Egypt. Atahutatem’s passion was carrom.

The chief villainy that Atahutatem engaged in was distracting Sanu when we played carrom. I will assume my Pharaohnic persona when it will be Sanu’s strike and try to laugh the way I thought a wicked Pharaoh should. Many a times Sanu’s hand quaked and the striker missed its target. Sanu too retaliated the creative way, we both, after all, were artists. After losing a few games because of Atahutatem’s villainous ways, the peaceable Sanu began to metamorphose into a threatening thug every time it was my turn to strike. The result was that, besides our carom skills, we immensely developed our declamatory talents. Both the Pharaoh and the many thugs Sanu played often engaged in verbal duels.

I never inflicted Atahutatem on anyone but Sanu. I was a growing lad and tried hard to be cool in school and on the playground. Goofy Paharaoh’s were definitely very unlike cool. I was, thus, somewhat fazed when Sanu informed me that he has told some of his friends how well I play a Pharaoh of my own imagining. The fear that Sanu’s classmates, my juniors in school, might be making light of me mildly mortified me. You cannot, after all, be awfully respectful of a senior who has a penchant for tomfoolery.

Both Atahutatem and the thugs who were his adversaries were quite opinionated. Thus, if they were to be discussing a comic book or A.R. Rahman’s latest release they will dig in their heels and refuse to budge even the millionth of a millimeter from their respective positions. They were witty as well and there were times when they used to brim over with wisecracks. Our alter egos were making Sanu and me increasingly raucous over the carom board. Sometimes, Ma had to yell from the kitchen to hush us up.

Atahutatem began to fade once I moved into the twelfth standard. Not because I grew less garrulous as I grew in age but because Sanu and I could not play carom that often anymore. The burden of studies was just too great now, the ‘future’ was almost here and the need to prepare for it a lot more immediate. However, forgotten Atahutatem I have not. Sometimes, he still rambles inside my head, remembers the good old days and yearns for a game of carrom.