This must have been around 1984, when I went to Chennai to shoot a 3D film being directed by Ashok Kumar. It starred Arjun Sarjaa and me. Tamil was an alien language to me; only Arjun and Ashok Kumar sir spoke it.

Suddenly, a hush descended on the set. A foldable chair with a towel on it and a table appeared, and there she was. Silk, in the flesh and blood, oozing oomph and an aura. I was hooked. She spoke English haltingly, but she immediately put me at ease. She must have been around 22 or 23 then. What a star.

The film never got made, but we became great professional friends. Not once did she make me feel small or behave petty. Yes, she was reserved, and a lot of people thought she was arrogant. I think it was her defence mechanism, a way of protecting her sanity and maintaining her boundaries. You know how people tend to regard women who do item numbers and wear skimpy clothes. They derisively call it soft porn. Today’s actors wear far more revealing clothes.

Silk knew how to exploit her eyes and body to maximum advantage. But she was always on guard. I never called her Silk or Smitha. I called her Viji, short for Vijayalakshmi, which was her original name. And she would be so happy whenever I called her that.

We went on so many shows across Europe – Paris, Germany, Norway, Switzerland. The two of us held the shows together and headlined them. Silk was a thorough professional. She would be the first to arrive and the last to leave. No diva tantrums, nothing. Yes, she was aloof and unapproachable. I think she craved the respectability she never got on screen.

She was a true diva. She would design all her own clothes and never depend on a designer. She would sketch her own jewellery and get it made rather than shop for fake costume jewellery.

She yearned for a family life. She was controlled in the relationship she was in. Her boyfriend’s children may have been closer to her age. When we were abroad, she would shop like crazy for his kids. She wanted everything off-screen to be normal and to live like a normal wife. She never got that.

We were both going through a tough time in our personal lives and would discuss it during our time together. I asked her why she allowed herself to be controlled so much. She didn’t have any answers. I guess love is blind. She also had a very tough past, so she was trying to make sense of what she had and held on to it like a needy child. I think that’s where the conflict arose, when the control became unbearable. I could see that she was only giving and giving, until it all spiralled out of control.

I remember I was shooting in Ooty again, coincidentally with Arjun Sarjaa, when I heard the news of her death. I was devastated. I just cried and cried. Is it really been thirty years since she’s been gone? It only seems like yesterday.

She was special. I’ve never seen anything like her ever again.

Also Read: Exclusive | ‘Don’t Care If People Call It a Sex Film’: Thulasidas Remembers Layanam and Silk Smitha