Can you believe it? There was a time when seeing a Merc on the roads of Hyderabad was a rarity. Those of you who have grown up on a healthy diet of Mercs, BMWs, Audis, Chevvies, VWs, Range Rovers and a host of Japanese/Korean beauties (not to forget the Daimlers, the Rolls, the Jags et al) may never understand the pleasure of spotting one of the few Mercedes Benz’s in town as they drove past you in all their glory. And if you knew one or two of the owners you were certainly a member of the privileged class.

When I was in school, Hyderabad Public School, Begumpet the cars I remember were of the Nizam’s Limousine that I saw a couple of times on Abids, the Gir family heirloom that I used to see at Lekha Singh’s house, my friend Saeed Ansari’s huge white Plymouth and two powder blue Mercedes Benz cars that used to reside in Begumpet.

One car belonged to my friend Aamer and Saad Bin Jung’s father, Basheer Yar Jung. The story was that it actually belonged to the Nawab of Pataudi but because Aamer’s mother, Dimpu Aunty was his sister, the car was left in Hyderabad. And we would as friends of the children often see Bush Uncle (as he was called) and Dimpu Aunty driving round in that car. And what a handsome couple they made.

The other Merc native to Begumpet belonged to the Khans. While my acquaintance with them was marginal, one of the sons Errol, (who was a friend of my classmate Anwar Ahsan) was a regular visitor to my house for the crazy parties we used to have, especially when my parents were out of town. But what made the Merc special was the rest of the Khan clan. Gary and his sister (whose name I can’t remember).

Gary was a good looking guy. Quite the suave, sophisticated, dapper gentleman. And his sister, well she was what this generation perhaps calls eye candy.

So seeing the Khan Merc held more of a thrill for us than spotting the Yar Jung Mercedes with its avuncular and friendly passenger base.

Gary remained an icon of our youth…Good looks, great car…what more can anyone ask for? Then of course we all moved on and dispersed into different parts of the world. One heard that Gary had moved to Europe, England or the USA. Poor Errol died. And the city found a whole new lot of cynosures.

This evening though, at a book reading of Narendra Luther’s new book ‘Legendotes’, I was pleasantly surprised to bump into Gary Khan.

Except that it took me forever to recognize him. The man was still dapper enough. But there was something age had done to him…or should I say youth had abandoned him…and he was but a shadow of his former self. I suppose I was being unfair.

Time has not been very kind to many of us and we have all warped from an idyllic past. But hey, we were, none of us Icon material and therefore need to be excused our changes…but Gary…he was the Poster Boy. And Poster Boys never grow old…never look seeded. But this one had.

As I drove back from Begumpet and passed the very area where the Khans used to live and I used to spot their car I nodded an apology towards the old mohalla and to the old memory. I was being unkind.

And I could only hope that Gary understood. And forgave. I am sure he will. He had that look on his face.