Late one evening, strolling around Mehboob Studio's car park, he was darkly introspective, admitting that marriage had been on his mind a few years ago.
But despite his anger and tears, his possessiveness and wisdom, the person had moved away and he had let them go.
As Salman Khan turns 60 on December 27, Rediff Senior Contributor Roshmila Bhattacharya decodes the Peter Pan, trying to understand why the actor never got married, why she thinks he would make a good father, and why she can never stay angry with him for too long.
'I'm difficult to live with'
When you interview one the country's most wanted bachelors, one question is inevitable, 'When are you getting married?'
Salman Khan has answered it at different times, in different ways, and in different moods.
On one occasion, he pointed out rationally that for a shaadi to happen, you needed a girl first.
I pointed out that there would be many girls only too happy to partner him in real life, and he quipped, tongue-in-cheek, 'Really? Will you marry me?'
The googly was meant to stump, but I batted it with a straight face, telling him that he had popped the question too late.
'I have a 20-year-old daughter now!' I sighed exaggeratedly, and his guffaw told me he appreciated the repartee.
Another time he pointed out that he was too busy to give his wife quality time.
'I'm never home, and even when I'm home, I'm difficult to live with,' he confessed, honest and practical.
'I would be happy if marriage happened, but if it doesn't...'
The next time he said, 'Life is beautiful and I would be happy if marriage happened, but if it doesn't...' the shrug that followed was eloquent and philosophical.
Then, late one evening, strolling around Mehboob Studio's car park, he was darkly introspective, admitting that marriage had been on his mind a few years ago.
But despite his anger and tears, his possessiveness and wisdom, the person had moved away and he had let them go.
He reasoned that forcing them to stay would have only made them unhappy and left him feeling guilt.
He spoke from the heart, and broke my heart.
'When it happens, it happens'
Eventually, I got tired of the subject, even though it continued to spark national interest, and told him I was not going to ask him about marriage this time.
But I did want to know if he had any plans of having a child, through adoption or surrogacy.
Salman was non-committal, 'No, not yet', his shrug casual, 'When it happens, it happens.'
I should have stopped there, but stupidly, I prodded, 'How will it happen?'
With a naughty twinkle in his eyes, he deadpanned, 'I can't describe the whole process to you.'
This time I burst out laughing.
Salman can be so caring
Salman is 60, and still a bachelor, but marriage could still happen.
Late one night, because, as he had laughed self-deprecatingly, he would not have the courage to do it during the day.
I hope it does happen because even without a commitment, Salman can be so caring.
Recently, Daisy Shah admitted how during the COVID-19 pandemic, whenever she needed anything, he was on speed dial for her.
Earlier, Katrina Kaif had revealed that even when they hadn't met in months, whenever anything upset her, Salman would be there to comfort her.
It was a strange coincidence and one she had learnt to accept it, unquestioningly.
His Maine Pyar Kiya co-star, Bhagyashree, had once revealed that after making her squirm uncomfortably during the shoot, crooning 'Dil deewana bin sajna ke mane na' in her ear, he had whispered that he knew all about her secret liaison with Himalaya.
He suggested she invite Himalaya to the shoot, as his friend.
She had resisted the temptation then, but when she later married him, Salman and Sooraj Barjatya were at the temple as her 'family'.
Dancing with a star
In the company of adults, Salman can get angry and aggressive, sarcastic and caustic, but in the presence of a child, he is all heart.
Just before the release of Ready, along with several other journos, I had trudged to Whistling Woods after being promised a one-on-one interview with him.
Once there, we were kept waiting for over an hour because no one knew where Salman had disappeared.
We finally tracked him down to the film school's auditorium.
He was on stage, dancing with a group of differently abled children.
There were no signs of annoyance when one child tugged at his shirt.
And he hooted with laughter when another child stripped off his shirt to flex his non-existent muscles.
It was only after this impromptu performance, that he was 'ready' for a tete e tete, but his answers were monosyllabic and bored till a moppet clambered into his lap.
She was one of the kids who had been on stage, dancing with him, and he was indulgently paternal.
She pulled his hair, poked him in the eye, interrupted our Q-and-A with questions of her own, and through it all, Salman didn't once lose his cool.
When her embarrassed mother tried to take her away and she let out a protesting wail, he snatched her back and cuddled her.
Finally, after pacifying her with the promise of another dance, he carried her to her car himself and waved her off, watching till the car was out of sight.
Only then did he return to our conversation, and this time, he was happier and more open.
Sixty going on six!
I believe Salman is so good with kids because he is a kid himself.
Perhaps that why, unlike many of my colleagues, I was never intimidated by him.
Once, when I was interviewing his brother Arbaaz, like a frisky kid, he skipped over our legs, several times, to walk to the balcony and wave to the fans outside. After one bemused glance, I ignored him.
After a while, he went away.
When I was interviewing his father Salim Khan, he sat down at the same table for a meal.
I continued asking my questions even as Salman reacted to them, and Salimsaab's answers, with a roll of his eyes, a nod or a shake of his head, a smile or a scowl.
I asked him my questions even on the day a television anchor, with his allegations, made him rant at my scribe tribe and me.
'Say what you have to, but don't slap me in retaliation, sabke samne izzat ka faluda ho jayega (Or else I will publicly lose all respect),' I whispered and he chuckled.
The Suicide Disease
Only once was I infuriated when we waited two hours for him to arrive at the office for a 'Talk to Salman' session.
His car turned into our lane, we ran to escort him up, but before that it had turned around and he had returned home.
I raged, and swore not to ask him any questions whenever he did show up.
But I couldn't keep my resolution after seeing him in visible pain.
Salman had been diagnosed with Trigeminal Neuralgia, commonly known as 'Suicide Disease' because the pain can make a person suicidal.
But he had lived with the pain, smiled through it on camera, for seven years.
Soon after our session, he flew off to the US with his brothers Arbaaz and Sohail and sister Alvira for a life-threatening surgery.
In his first interview after the eight hour surgery, he stated that he had gone into the operation theatre smiling, and came out smiling.
Peter Pan then added with dark humour that he had been taken by surprise by the media turnout at the airport when he left Mumbai.
Looking at the sombre faces around him, he admitted to have asked Alvira, 'Will I return?'
Well, he did return, roaring, in Ek Tha Tiger!
Photographs curated by Satish Bodas/Rediff
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