I also used to meet Shakila and Jabeen very often. Jabeen acted in Taj Mahal with Bina Rai and in James Ivory’s The Householder. She didn’t become a big star. I met Shakila during the making of C.I.D. She was the heroine and I played the vamp. We don’t see each other as often nowadays.
NMK: How did you get to know Helen?
WR: Helen and I performed a dance together in a film called Baazi, which was made in 1968. Dharmendra was the leading man. We didn’t become friends at the time, but when Salim Saab and Helen got married he would bring her over to our place very often. We soon became close friends. Helen was also very close to Nanda because they had made many movies together over the years.
Accompanying Helen (left) and Asha Parekh on holiday in Istanbul, Turkey. May 2012. Photograph: Waheeda Rehman.
With friends (L to R) Jabeen, Shakila and Nanda. Shakila was the leading lady in Waheeda Rehman’s first Hindi film, C.I.D.
Asha Parekh and I have not worked in the same film but I used to meet her at various parties and premieres over the years. About ten years ago, she came to Bangalore to shoot a TV serial called Baaje Payal which was produced by Shammi Rabadi and Asha. The serial was about dancers. Since Shammiji and I were old friends, I got to know Asha very well.
And there’s Sadhana whom I met during the making of a film called Ulfat. I told you that was an unreleased film of mine; Raaj Kumar was also acting in it. Shashi knew Sadhana’s husband, Nayyar Saab, before he became a producer/director.
Sadhana and Nayyar Saab, Yash and Hiroo, and Shashi and I would get together very often. Then Nayyar Saab passed away.
NMK: What about friends unconnected to films?
WR: I have other friends who have nothing to do with films, including Barota. Her husband, Jain Malhotra, was an industrialist and they were Shashi’s close friends too. Other dear friends are Harish Salve, the son of the former Union minister N.K.P. Salve, and his wife, Meenakshi, who is a relative of Shashi’s. They live in Delhi and whenever they come to Bombay, they come over to the house for a meal. Indira Jaising is someone I am very fond of. She is the assistant solicitor general of India and lives near me in Bandra.
I met Kiran Mazumdar-Shaw and her husband, John, thirty years ago when she was just starting her company. We’ve been good friends ever since that time. She is a down-to-earth and compassionate person.
It’s good to know people who are not working in films, otherwise the conversation tends only to be about the movies and it’s not exciting to talk about films all the time.
You know, I am amazed how fascinated people are by Indian cinema. Oh my God, are they crazy about films!
NMK: Do you think this interest is greater than before?
WR: Yes, I think so.
NMK: You have met countless people in your life—do you find people interesting?
WR: I think people are very interesting. They have such individuality—their habits and ways of thinking. I like analysing people and I like analysing my own behaviour too. I am curious to know why a person speaks or behaves in the way he or she does. I don’t like generalizing, nor am I judgemental in any way, but it’s fascinating to see how different people react in different situations.
I am a good listener. I try not to react instantly. If someone doesn’t smile back at me, I assume that there must be something on their mind or perhaps something is troubling them. I don’t take it personally and jump to conclusions. Either way, I don’t believe everyone should like me. Why should they?
Even in a marriage, one should not take the other for granted. One has to accept and respect the individual.
NMK: What about the other people who have shared your life? I am sure members of your staff have worked with you and your family for many years.
WR: My driver Naseer lives in Bangalore now. He has been with me for forty years. He was a young boy when he first started working for me. He was the same age as a nephew of mine. When he first arrived, he proudly told me he was previously working for the spiritual head of the Bohras.
Naseer is married and is old now. He’s got diabetes and can’t see properly, but refuses to wear specs. The poor fellow has lost most of his teeth. He is very reliable. He’s a sweet and sincere man.
My children argue about who will keep Naseer after I am gone. It’s not as though he can work any more. He is retired and lives in our rented place in Bangalore.
There was another boy, Raju, who was about fourteen or fifteen when he started working in the fields on our Bangalore farm. Raju slowly learned how to cook and became the house cook. He has been with us for thirty years. He’s married and has children.
NMK: I am sure many young women who aspire to become actresses would appreciate your advice on acting. What is the most important thing when approaching a role?
WR: They have to understand the kind of role they’re playing. Who is the character? No matter how much you learn about the techniques of acting, unless you put your soul into it, it will not make any impression. Your soul has to be there for any sincerity to come through.
When my guru T.M.S. Pillai was teaching me Bharatanatyam in Chennai, he sat me down one day and said: ‘I have taught you everything, the mudras, the bhavas. But your facial expressions are the most important thing and that is where your soul is visible. No guru in the world can teach you that.’
I had no training in acting, but even if you are a trained actor, I know you have to put that little bit of soul into your performance—and that can only happen when you have understood the character perfectly and what is required in this moment, in this scene.
NMK: What do you mean by ‘soul’?
WR: Feeling the emotions totally. To imagine: if I were that person in that situation, how would I feel? If the character is a Shankar or a Vijay, a little bit of Dilip Kumar or Amitabh has to come into the character.
NMK: Is there always a bit of you in your characters?
WR: A little bit, but not too much. If there is too much then you’re not acting—you are Waheeda all the time. You have to change yourself to become another character, but you do need to add your own emotions and personality.
What you bring to a character is a fine balance between craft and personality. But craft alone will not help you.
NMK: I am sure aspects of your personality are present in the different characters you have played. Which character is close to the real Waheeda Rehman?
WR: There’s a bit of me in Shanti, Gulaabo and Rosie. But I think I am most like Rosie. She’s a straightforward woman who knows her own mind. She stands by what she believes in.
NMK: If you hadn’t become an actress, what would you have liked to be?
WR: When we were young, medicine was regarded as the only respectable profession for women. I always wanted to work, and I told my father I wished to become a doctor. He said: ‘Beta, you won’t be able to study because of your poor health. How will you become a doctor?’ I insisted that I would somehow. I’m still fascinated by medicine and homeopathy.
President V.V. Giri awards the Padma Shri to Waheeda Rehman in 1972. She went on to receive the Padma Bhushan, one of India’s highest civilian awards in 2011.
There’s a funny story I must tell you. When my father was alive, we had three peons who came from his office to help out in the house. One of the peons once told me that he had a bad headache. I made him a paste of coconut oil and talcum powder and asked him to apply half the paste on his temple and eat the other half. My sisters said: ‘Are you crazy? Supposing something terrible happens to him?’ I reassured them by saying: ‘I am giving it to him with love and faith; nothing bad will happen.’ I was very young.
NMK: Talcum powder?
WR: Yes! He applied the paste to his temple and ate the rest. Call it faith or whatever, but the peon later told me: ‘God bless you, my headache has gone.’ After that if he didn’t feel well, he used to come to me for treatment.
I used to read all those Hamdard Dawakhana magazines. Hakims say 50–70 per cent of medicine can
be found in your kitchen cabinet—turmeric, cloves, cinnamon and dry ginger. All these spices have medicinal properties.
My husband had a terrible cough once and I gave him some haldi mixed in milk. It is a common remedy. At first Shashi refused, but later he drank it. He said it had helped him. He once told me: ‘Look, your Jesus Christ syndrome of healing people could end in tears. Some day you’ll kill someone and then you’ll hold your head in your hands and cry. Stop doing all this.’ [laughs]
Shashi and I had a good marriage.
NMK: It sounds like you and your husband laughed a lot together. Now if you need to talk through important decisions, who do you turn to? Your son, Sohail? Or Kashvi?
WR: Sohail and Kashvi are young. I don’t discuss my problems with my sisters either and never have. Sayeeda lives in Bombay, but goes to Panchgani often because her daughter Samina is studying there. Bi-Apa lives in Hyderabad and comes here to see her children who are now grown up. Sha-Apa lives between Kumbakonam and Hyderabad. My sisters keep travelling. What else can they do at this age?
I know they have their own problems. Why burden them with mine? When you believe in God, you hold His hand and leave it to Him to sort things out.
NMK: So you’re not a worrier?
WR: No. When my husband and I moved to Bangalore, we were faced with many problems regarding our farmland. Shashi smoked heavily, and when he was worried, he smoked even more. I would try to calm him down and say: ‘Leave it to God. Go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll see what can be done.’
And he would say, ‘You’re a Muslim, so you believe in the greatness of Allah and you leave everything in His hands.’ Shashi liked my attitude, but, oh my God, did he worry! [smiles]
Wonderful memories shared with Shammi and Nargis during the making of Reshma Aur Shera. Photographed in a tent in Jaisalmer by Nargis’s nephew Sarwar Hussain. 1971.
NMK: Many people with whom you have worked, and have been close to, have passed away in recent years. It must be very difficult to see your world disappearing around you.
WR: It is very difficult. I was recently asked to unveil Dev Anand’s statue. It will be placed on Bandstand in Bandra. I felt very emotional. To think I had worked with him in my first Hindi film and there I was unveiling his statue. I couldn’t stop myself from crying.
NMK: I was at that event and I could see you were very upset.
Bette Davis said something very wise: ‘Old age isn’t for wimps.’ What do you think are the good and bad things about getting older?
WR: One is more mature and patient. I think I am more understanding. I take life as it comes. I know everyone has problems—financial, emotional or health related. But when I am faced with problems, I try not to push them away. I think of ways of solving them.
I am not young any more. I am in a hurry to travel and see new places. I love travelling and taking photographs. Last year I went to London with Barota and we bought an Oyster card and sometimes travelled around by bus. If an Indian couple happened to be on the bus they would recognize me. I think Barota felt bad that Waheeda was seen roaming around in a London bus. But I don’t mind. What’s the big deal?
NMK: You must have heard this question a hundred times before, but do you have a favourite film?
WR: How strange! While we were having lunch today, Sohail and Kashvi asked me this very question. I said my top favourite is Gone with the Wind. My second favourite is Legends of the Fall—the one with Brad Pitt. I just love that film and don’t mind seeing it again and again. I think Brad Pitt was very good.
There are many Hindi films that I have liked. The ones that stand out now are the old Andaz, Mother India, Mughal-e-Azam, Sujata and Do Bigha Zamin.
Among the recent films I like Imtiaz Ali’s Jab We Met. I watch it again whenever it is on television. Kashvi always says: ‘Mummy, think of your age.’ So what? What has age got to do with it? I think it is a sweet and charming love story.
NMK: For actors who are immortalized on the screen ageing can be nevertheless difficult to accept.
WR: One must accept.
A long time ago when my eyes were getting weak, I had to wear reading glasses. In those days there was only one airline, Indian Airlines, and the flights would often get delayed, so I would always carry a book with me. One day Dev happened to see me reading in the airport lounge and said: ‘Waheeda, why have you got your specs on?’
‘Because I can’t read without them.’
‘That’s not the point! Why can’t you pretend you’re reading?’ [we laugh]
NMK: You have known fame since 1955, when you first appeared in Rojulu Marayi. Did you find managing stardom over the years a difficult thing?
WR: It is difficult being famous, especially if you become well known overnight. Suddenly all India knows you, all Asia knows you, and even people abroad know who you are. You’re on a high. Wherever you go, people want to meet you and know you. You have attention, glamour, popularity and money. One film is enough for the world to know who you are. And sometimes it has nothing to do with talent.
Success in any field can change a personality. Maybe it did not affect me because my upbringing was very grounded. When we were growing up, I saw powerful army generals with cars and jeeps and everyone saluting them. But the moment they retired, no one bothered about them. They had to live in small flats and all that shaan-baan was gone.
I have always believed fame is here today and gone tomorrow. Who pays attention to you when you’re old? Everything is ultimately transitory.
We actors are popular, and so, to some extent, we’re forced to be artificial. Some of us do get cut off from reality. I accept I am getting old. I can’t turn the clock back. But would I now be asked to play a character like Rosie? No. Could I do the snake dance now? No.
NMK: Starting as a teenager, you worked in the best Hindi films, and continued to have a hugely succesful career for over five decades. You have an army of fans and are deeply respected for your talent, integrity and grace. But it seems like you never fell for the illusion that fame would last. Am I right?
WR: No, it doesn’t last.
I have believed in improving myself as a person, to keep learning. My curiosity has kept me alive. There was a time when I suddenly got the urge to paint. I went on the Net and tried to look for a teacher, but had no luck. I happened to meet Srilekha, my neighbour Sikander Fateh Ali’s daughter-in-law, and asked her to find me an art teacher. She is an artist and, very sweetly, she brought me some paints, a brush and a drawing book. She told me to first train my hand by drawing. It was very kind of her.
I have a positive attitude to life and am peaceful in myself. I don’t like to dwell on problems and negative thoughts. I get up at six, meditate for half an hour, do a bit of exercise, have my coffee and read the papers. I walk up and down the corridor in my house for a bit and then call my sisters, or someone may call me for a chat. I have my bath and get ready for the day. But if you asked me what I do every day to get so busy, I couldn’t tell you. I am just very busy. Thank God.
NMK: Do you think much about the past?
WR: I don’t like thinking about the past. But when I do, I think about the beautiful things that have happened—the wonderful moments of my childhood and the things that my parents would tell me.
I don’t honestly believe in living in the past. It is the present that counts. I don’t think about the future either. Maybe that’s what gives me a sense of peace. I don’t worry about what will happen tomorrow. That just isn’t me.
With her son, Sohail, and daughter, Kashvi, at a recent function in Delhi where Waheeda Rehman was honoured as one of the twenty-five global Indians. Photograph courtesy: Taj Palace, Delhi.
Appendix
Filmography
YEAR FILM ROLE
1955 Rojulu Marayi Dancer
1955 Kaalam Mari Pochu Guest Appearance in the song
‘Yeru thooki povayae annae chinnanae’
1955 Alibabavum 40
Thirudargalum Dancer
> 1955 Jayasimha Princess
1956 C.I.D. Kamini
1957 Pyaasa Gulaabo
1958 12 O’Clock Bani Choudhary
1958 Solva Saal Laajwanti
1959 Kaagaz Ke Phool Shanti
1960 Kala Bazar Alka
1960 Ek Phool Char Kaante Sushma
1960 Chaudhvin Ka Chand Jameela
1960 Girl Friend
1961 Roop Ki Rani Choron Ka Raja
1962 Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam Jabba
1962 Bees Saal Baad Radha
1962 Baat Ek Raat Ki Neela/Meena
1962 Rakhi
1962 Abhijan Gulaabi
1963 Mujhe Jeene Do Chamelijaan
1963 Kaun Apna Kaun Paraya Asha
1963 Ek Dil Sao Afsane Sunita
1964 Kohra Rajeshwari
1964 Shagoon
1964 Majboor Sushila Mehta
1965 Guide Rosie Marco/Miss Nalini
1966 Teesri Kasam Hirabai
1966 Dil Diya Dard Liya Roopa
1967 Patthar Ke Sanam Taruna
1967 Ram Aur Shyam Anjana
1967 Palki Mehroo
1967 Ghar Ka Chirag
1968 Neel Kamal Rajkumari Neel Kamal/Sita
1968 Aadmi Meena
1968 Baazi
1969 Khamoshi Nurse Radha
1969 Shatranj Meena Thakur
1969 Meri Bhabhi Maya
1970 Prem Pujari Suman Mehra
1970 Man Ki Aankhen Guddi (Geeta)
1970 Dharti Jwala/Princess Chitralekha
1970 Darpan Madhvi
1971 Man Mandir Krishna and Radha
1971 Reshma Aur Shera Reshma
1972 Zindagi Zindagi Meeta Sharma
1972 Trisandhya Indu
1972 Subha-o-Sham Shirin
1972 Dil Ka Raaja Laxmi
1973 Phagun Shanta Bangan/Shamrao Dhamle
1973 Justice
1974 Bangaru Kalalu
1976 Aadalat Radha
1976 Kabhi Kabhie Anjali Malhotra
Conversations with Waheeda Rehman Page 14