A group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact. And that too for one night only.
You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul here, exclusively on AIM.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

This is the last part of the series.
[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15]

“You have got to be kidding?” Ashok protested when he saw the suit he was going to wear. It looked immaculate…but he was not happy. He stared at the back of it and grumbled, “Couldn’t you get a different sponsor…or a smaller print?”

“Hey, it was either this or Raman’s Caravan and Holiday Group”, said Raj. “I couldn’t pay for the suits and the equipment without some sponsorship”.

The guys were in the dressing area, backstage of the theatre where the contest was being held. Ramesh was going through some stretching exercises. One of the members of another group looked over at him and commented, “This isn’t a football match mate, unless of course you’re practicing to leg it once the show is over”. His friends laughed.

Ramesh said, “Yeah, or perhaps I’m warming up to give you a good kicking afterwards”.

The two bands made moves to confront each other, but Bernie intervened. “Easy boys. Relax. Save your energy for the stage.”

“Lucky your little mascot was here to save you”, grumbled an opposing band member.

“I still don’t like these suits”, complained Ashok.

“Don’t worry, after tonight, the sky’s the limit”, Raj said.

“After tonight…well we’ll have to see about that. I think this may be my only gig for a while”.

The others looked at him questioningly.

Jas was in the audience with Maria. They had just sat through a rather inept performance from a wannabe Frank Sinatra.

“So you think this is serious?” Maria asked.

“Well it’s a pretty big event…seems sold out. The other bands haven’t really been that great”, Jas answered.

“No, I mean you and Ramesh, is it serious?”

“I don’t know. He’s different…and I think I need different. I was too used to all the other types”.

“Like Sanjay?”

“Yeah”, agreed Jas, “like Sanjay”.

Sanjay was back-stage amongst the equipment. He found a stack of cables and followed the trail to the set of wall sockets. Unknown to him, Malkit was watching.

The standard of the show see-sawed from good to poor, until the Bee Gees look-alike band once again performed a near perfect rendition of a couple of classics. The sound of cheering filtered through to the Sultans, who were waiting in the dressing room, in full attire.

“Well, that’s what we have to compete with”, commented Bernie. “We got to show them what we’ve shown ourselves”. Bernie placed his hand in the centre of their small circle. The others clasped onto it and they all looked at Ashok.

Inspector Harris appeared at the entrance of the theatre. He sauntered in like a man who had achieved something special. He showed his identification to the men at the stage door and was allowed in.

The compere was announcing the final act of the evening. “From West London, but sounding like they’re from West Philadelphia, please welcome, The Sultans of Soul”.

There was a small ripple of applause. The Sultans appeared on stage and took up their opening stance with their backs to the audience. The back of the suits could be seen for the first time, with bold lettering that spelled ‘Little India Coaches’. There was some laughter amongst the audience.

Inspector Harris looked on with interest from one of the wings. Sanjay was just about to remove some cables from the socket when Malkit tapped him on the shoulder.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, do you?” enquired Malkit.

“Go away old man”, resisted Sanjay.

“Be careful”, said Malkit and landed a punch to Sanjay’s face. “You may get an electric shock”.

The opening chords of ‘Get Ready’ started and the Sultans started to perform. From the very moment that Bernie broke the theatre with his deep soulful voice the audience was hooked. They were captivated by the moves that the Sultans performed and the rich harmonies that they produced.

Inspector Harris looked on quietly impressed. Malkit was also impressed…and proud. Sanjay slouched off knowing that he wasn’t going to get past Malkit.

The song came to an end and the audience erupted. Jas and Maria cheered hysterically and the Sultans smiled broadly. For the next number, “This Old Heart of Mine”, they went through a mesmerising array of moves and vocal range. They were clearly enjoying the whole event. The Bee Gees look-alike band viewed the performance from the wings and shrugged their shoulders. They walked off knowing they were beaten. As the performance ended, Jas made her way to the front of the stage where Ramesh summoned her up. She joined him in an embrace as the song finished. There was wild applause and the Sultans took an ovation. Raj noticed that Malkit was also in the wings and summoned him on stage. Hesitantly Malkit walked on and hugged Raj. Inspector Harris motioned for Ashok to get off stage. Ashok took one last bow and walked slowly off stage. He looked back at the other guys and gave them a salute. The others acknowledged him with smiles. Harris escorted Ashok out of the theatre.

So, the end of the Sultans of Soul, and their one and only gig.

Raj continued working with his father in the store, until he sold some song lyrics to an up and coming band that made it to the top in the music business. He bought his father a new home and started life as a lyricist.

Ramesh and Jas married a couple of years later and settled to have a family. Jas became a renowned lecturer and Ramesh became a happy house-husband.

Ashok was released from prison after a few months and received a warm welcome home from his family. He took up part-time education and became a dancer in a troupe of entertainers.

Bernie decided to devote more of his time to the local community. In between local gigs as a solo performer, he worked at the community centre and formed a band from a group of under-privileged children.

The Sultans of Soul had played for one night and found something inside of themselves that made them feel special for the rest of their lives.

The End

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This serial is fictional and any similarity with existing groups or individuals is unintentional.
Ravi Mangat is contactable on: rav38man@yahoo.co.uk