I think she deserves a standing ovation. Manisha Koirala — nicknamed Manya — is back where she belongs, having combated a successful war with ovarian cancer.

Radiant as ever, and a few-months older and years-wiser, she’s in her tastefully appointed home in a Yaari Road skyrise.
There, I’d seen her surrounded with books and DVDs, her laptop resting on a mattress and a mass of cushions. Next, at the shoot of Bhoot Returns she was relaxed, spoke without punctuation marks about the whiz cinematographer Ashok Mehta who was in hospital, not disclosing his pain or any fear of encroaching mortality. Ironically, Ashok sir’s favourite muse Manisha, was to be struck by illness herself.
Before and after surgery in New York, she revealed no signs of self-pity. Instead, she kept her fans informed about her treatment, via regular posts on Facebook. Here was a beautiful woman, keeping her spirits and optimism up, without any need of a male crutch.

Ironically again, the story goes that she had first made contact with Samrat Dahal, on the same social networking site. They married in 2000, to be divorced a couple of years later. Her posts throughout the phase of the disintegrating marriage were candid. The marriage hadn’t worked out. And she said so without an iota of
bitterness.
I can’t hazard a guess about how much Manisha found comfort in keeping her FB status updated. Still, I could perceive a real-life heroine in raptures with the joy of living. She spoke about people-watching in the Big Apple’s Central Park, taking off for a day at the movies — be it a Tom Cruise blockbuster or Kai Po Che! and her child-like glee on being permitted a cup of coffee — decaffeinated albeit — after months of abstinence. Best of all, was her news reporter-like paragraph that the doctors had, finally, declared her
cancer-free.
Perhaps it’s pointless to lament that none of the Bollywood biggies — not to my knowledge, at least — stood by her. Sure there were some sporadic “we’re shocked!” statements before she flew to the US, but there was none of that concern which is expressed when an A-lister hero is admitted to hospital. Indeed,visits by actors to see ailing stars have become as high-profile as turn-outs at premieres and launches of a movie’s first poster and CD.
Knowing Manisha a bit, I’m certain she mustn’t have been surprised. A decade ago at a star-packed bash, she had said casually, “Have you noticed, everyone wears a mask in this business?”
Fortuitously, Manisha does have friends who don’t carry an agenda. Clearly, Deepti Naval is that one friend whom we always hope for our in our lives (but don’t always find). For years, Manisha and Deepti would travel to the Cannes film festival, hire a budget-cost apartment, and just devour movies. No photos of the two were flashed on the red carpet. Neither did they leak out photos with a George Clooney or Pedro Almodavar. The girls just wanted to have some serious fun. And went on to collaborate on a sensitive little film titled Do Paise ki Dhoop, Chaar Aane ki Baarish.
The film directed by Deepti, alas, remains unreleased. Both have promised, on being prodded, to let me see it. I’m waiting. Like I’m waiting for Manisha to grab her rest and happiness by both her hands, and return to the world she belongs to — right in front of the lights and camera! That she will is as sure as her smile.