by Dilip Kumar
‘Beta, tumhaare liye kisi Yousuf Khan ka phone aaya tha,’* my mother informed me as soon as I reached home on evening, sometime in 1984. ‘Kaun [who] Yousuf Khan?’ I asked. My mother replied: ‘Pata nahin, par unki awaaz badi bhaari thi.’** Could it have been Dilip Kumar? I asked myself, that evening.
A friend of mine, one Dr Zuber, happened to know Dilip Sahab and he wanted me to go along with him to meet him. I was reluctant. ‘Why should I meet Dilip Kumar?’ I asked him. I was not particularly interested in the film world as I come from a family in which religion, tradition and austerity came above all else and films were taboo. Even if one wanted to enjoy a movie, it had to be done surreptitiously. Nevertheless, I agreed to meet Dilip Sahab after much prodding from my friend.
Any outsider always views the cinema world with a lot of prejudice. I ambled along to his house, expecting nothing. But the mulaaqaat† was nothing short of an eye-opener, a blind-remover which resulted in an association of almost three decades. My first impression of Dilip Sahab was that he was extremely warm and gracious as a host. He enquired about us and I still wonder what made him take down my house phone number. And that’s when he called.
I went over and the Dilip Kumar I met during the first visit was as gracious and warm. He wanted to know my whereabouts and what I was up to. It was a magnanimous gesture from a man whom everyone wanted to be familiar with. But I was impressionable, too young to understand that human relationships are forged in the simplest of ways and do not recognize the walls created by prejudices of perception.
As my interactions with him increased, I started becoming acutely aware of the difference between Dilip Kumar and Yousuf Khan. While Dilip Kumar was the icon that the masses loved and idolized, Yousuf Khan was the man who remained unscathed by the ways of the world. Once he told me: ‘Yousuf Khan is scared of Dilip Kumar.’ I asked him what he meant by this. With an ambiguous glint in his eye, he would exclaim: ‘Only Allah knows who Dilip Kumar is and what all he can do!’
I have seen him read the Quran like a true scholar. What is remarkable is the way he tries to understand the message of the Quran. He has minutely read each sentence and made notes on the pages in red, green and blue ink. Whenever he needs clarifications, he seeks the advice of Islamic scholars.
He is basically very simple and down to earth. As Yousuf Khan, he can interact with, say, a chauffeur, a riskshawallah or a domestic help, and they would feel that he is one of them. Dilip Kumar, on the other hand, is the one who effortlessly mingles with the dignitaries and leaders from all over the world. The dividing line between the two is extremely thin and is a matter of perspective.
I knew him for barely a few years prior to my marriage in 1991. We didn’t even have the time to print cards for my wedding. I verbally invited him to be a part of the occasion and, quite unexpectedly, he turned up. He could have thought: ‘I am THE Dilip Kumar and this boy has not even sent me an official invitation. So, why should I go?’ But he did not do so. He has always been above such petty things. Commitment has always been his priority. Once he asked me to attend a wedding with him somewhere in Santa Cruz (east) in Mumbai. I thought it was of a VIP. It turned out to be the wedding of a poor man’s relative whom he did not know personally and since the former had invited Dilip Sahab, he felt it was necessary to attend.
That his popularity is legendary, I do not have to overemphasize. However, let me recount an episode. In 1998, we were in Kuwait, when Dilip Sahab was invited for tea by the CEO of Kuwait Airways. The Indian ambassador, who was also invited, asked Dilip Sahab if this was his first visit to Kuwait. He said that he had come here many years ago and tried to recollect the year. The CEO excitedly blurted out: ‘In 1963, sir.’ We all looked at him in surprise. The CEO continued: ‘I was in school at that time and we had a holiday. The buzz was that an extremely popular Indian actor was visiting Kuwait. Imagine my good fortune that I am with you today, thirty-five years later.’
He is part of people’s consciousness. I have seen people of all walks of life and belonging to different countries eager to meet him not only in India but also in places such as UAE, the UK and the USA. I was with him in 2013 when he did the tawaaf (circumambulation) around the holy Kaaba in Mecca and the amount of attention he got was to be seen to be believed.
They say you know a man only when you travel with him. Over all these years of travelling with him, I have realized that Dilip Sahab, though an extremely renowned person across the world, never asks anything for himself. His heart beats for the underprivileged. I have had the good fortune of being with him at various meetings at the topmost level. One such was with Prime Minister Narasimha Rao, when Dilip Sahab had gone to New Delhi to plead the case of those who were displaced during the 1992-93 Mumbai riots. There have been several such instances where he sough help for others. Never for himself.
Dilip Sahab has often recounted to me his fond memories of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, who had influenced him ideologically and he had had the privilege of meeting several times. I think his political idealism was modelled on that of Pandit Nehru. He has told me many times about how Pandit Nehru used to ‘encourage us youngsters to indulge in debate about the nation and nation building.’ As I mentioned earlier, he has always channelized my political ambitions into social causes. Aspire to work for society and the underprivileged is what I have learnt from him.
Another thing that I have learned is the importance of family. Coincidentally, both Dilip Sahab and I have five brothers each. He loved the fact that there is so much unity among us brothers, since he himself is very close to his family. ‘The family is your pillar, Asif. Lean on it and give it your shoulder. Always be together.’ This advice has always benefited us.
*A family friend and a member of the Congress party.
*Son, there were a call for you from some Yousuf Khan.
**I don’t know, but his voice was very heavy.
†Mulaaqaat means ‘meeting’. However, meeting does not convey the informality of mulaaqaat and hence the usage of the Urdu word seems most apt here.
SUBHASH GHAI
LIKE ALL SERIOUS YOUNG FILM MAKERS who believe in making great movies I also had a dream of making a film that would be remembered and talked about. And how does one do that? By making a film with the great Dilip Kumar, of course.
I had a subject centring on a grandfather and grandson and a strong desire to cast Dilip Kumar in the role of the grandfather. The year was 1980 and I was trying to zero in on someone who could introduce me to Dilip Sahab as a serious film maker when the well-known film distributor, R. N. Mandre, who lived in Bangalore (now Bengaluru), said he would do the honours. I flew to Bangalore for the meeting; more nervous than excited as I had just made a flop film and was sure Dilip Sahab had read about it. Also, I had a story to tell but no bound script. Many of my acquaintances had said Dilip Sahab did not entertain anybody who came without a bound script.
When I came face to face with him he was warm and cordial. The three of us, Dilip Sahab, Mandre Sahab and myself talked about everything happening in the country except my story. I was hoping he would ask me why I was there and I would tell him. But he did not ask. So I mustered up the courage and told him I had a story for his consideration. He told me to go ahead with the narration. After hearing me out, he said nothing except that he would meet me the next day.
We met the next day, the next and the next, but he didn’t bring up the subject. On the fourth day I finally asked him what he thought of my story. Then, he smiled and told me the story had potential and he would consider working in it. That truly was the moment of my life!
I returned to Bombay, triumphant, and informed Gulshan Rai, the producer, that Dilip Sahab had liked the subject and was willing to work in the film. Naturally, he too was thrilled.
Days passed and Gulshanji kept asking me when he could announce the film and splash Dilip Kumar’s name. Meanwhile, people started asking me if what they had heard was true and proudly I would say, ‘yes,’ but the look on their
faces would convey: ‘This is the end of your career.’ Some went to the extent of saying: ‘You know how he is. He will make you sit somewhere outside the set and direct the film himself. What’s more, at the end of it all you will wonder what happened to your story because he will change everything. And by the time the movie is completed you will have aged because he takes years to complete a film.’
All this was worrying. When we met at his bungalow I was somewhat fidgety and he sensed something was going on in my mind. I told him I was worried for two reasons. First, I needed a confirmation from him because Gulshan Rai was still doubting me and secondly … I took a deep breath… who will direct the film – him or me?
Dilip Sahab smiled gently, pointed his finger at me and said: ‘You.’
Gulshanji was very happy but he gave me the responsibility of talking money with Dilip Sahab. I took an appointment with him and went over one evening where a lavish tea was laid out as was customary in Dilip Sahab’s house. Both Sairaji and he have this wonderful way of entertaining guests. He serves the guest himself with utmost delight, and will keep you enthralled with his conversation.
I then bravely broached the subject of money. He shot a look at me and asked: ‘Is that what you have come to see me for?’ I froze and left without talking money. I understood in due course as the shooting began that god had thrown me in the company of a man for whom money, stardom, all visible material trappings and symbols of social status, which mattered to others in the profession, had little meaning. He worked in a film if he liked the subject and more importantly, if he liked the director and the whole set-up. Money was the least of his concerns.
All through the making of Vidhaata [released in 1982], Dilip Sahab paid great attention to my visualization of shots and cooperated to such an extent that the film was completed a month ahead of schedule. All the artistes were inspired by his dedication and he was like an elixir when we worked.
The picture was a superhit and it established me in the industry. But I gained far more. Keeping Dilip Sahab’s company I changed completely; I became refined, began to speak and conduct myself with confidence, learnt to seize every opportunity to gain more knowledge, developed humility so precious when one achieves success and the world is at one’s feet and never be condescending to those who come to you for help.
We kept in touch and we became close, with him treating me like his brother – a privilege I have earned perhaps from my karmas in a past life. When I wrote the story of Karma [released in 1986], I went to Dilip Sahab again, but with much more confidence now. This time I told him I had to prepare a budget and it would be ideal if I could get an idea of the remuneration he expected. He gave me that look again and said: ‘I think it will be good if you don’t behave like a Baniya.’* I feel proud that I made three films** with Dilip Sahab in the central role.
*Baniya is a trader community.
**The third film is Saudagar (1991).
DR SHRIKANT GOKHALE
I HAVE HAD THE PRIVILEGE OF BEING NOT ONLY THE PERSONAL PHYSICIAN but also a friend of Dilip Sahab for four decades. I first met him when I was establishing myself as a general practitioner in Bandra, Mumbai.
Dilip Sahab’s trusted valet Anwar used to come to my clinic for treatment of minor ailments and he always had a hundred rupee note rolled up in his shirt sleeve. Those days we charged ten rupees for examining and prescribing the medication. Every time he gave me a hundred rupee note, it was a problem for me to return ninety rupees as it meant exhausting all the change I had. I only knew him as Anwar and I used to wonder who the flamboyant guy was but I never asked him any questions. It is not in my nature to talk unnecessarily. He used to wear white trousers and white shirts and always walked with a swagger.
One day, he appeared suddenly and looked hassled. He said: ‘You must come with me right away. Dilip Kumar wants you to see his sister as she is running a high temperature.’
I was taken aback. How did he know Dilip Kumar, who was the biggest star of Indian cinema at that time? I asked him for the first time who he was and how he was associated with Dilip Kumar. Then, somewhat sheepishly, he told me he was Dilip Sahab’s valet.
That explained the white trousers and shirt and the showing off. The eternal truth is that while Dilip Sahab himself has remained extremely humble and untouched by the huge stardom he has always enjoyed, the men around him, including his brothers, never hesitated to pretend they were the star Dilip Kumar. In my long association with Dilip Sahab, I have come across numerous men who wore white trousers and long-sleeved shirts, tousled their hair and tried to be Dilip Kumar. I understand it is natural to be influenced by the idol a person looks up to. At the same time, the fan seldom realizes that there is more to Dilip Kumar than the handsome looks.
That Dilip Sahab is gifted with unparalleled talents is something we all know. The unique thing is that he is also gifted with unparalleled human qualities like honesty, compassion and respectfulness towards all. Even the lowliest admirer who comes to his car or his door is greeted affectionately by him.
When I visited him the first time at the bungalow to treat his elder sister Sakina Aapa, he was staying in the outhouse of his large bungalow, having given the entire bungalow to his sisters and brothers to live in comfort and freedom. He was in the verandah, waiting for me. I was shy because he was a huge star and I did not know how to deal with a celebrity. He noticed my shyness and he began talking to me in Marathi (my mother tongue). In an instant, my hesitation melted and it was as if I was meeting an old friend from my hometown, not a superstar. I prescribed some medicines and I could sense his concern as he repeatedly felt her febrile brow and assured her she would be well soon.
He saw me off and I went home wondering whether it was really Dilip Kumar, the superstar that I met. Thereafter, I was called to treat any of his brothers and sisters if they took ill. By and by I got to know him better and we became friends.
It did not take long for me to realize what a wonderful human being he is. After some months of knowing each other and after several visits to his bungalow to give medications to his sisters for which he always paid me well, I mentioned to him during a visit that I was going on a holiday with my wife and so I would not be available for a week or so. He was happy to hear that and said it would be a good idea to go to some tranquil place and enjoy the change of environment. We shook hands and I left for my clinic. In the evening the same day, I received an envelope from him and it contained a note and a cheque signed by him. The note said: ‘This is to make your holiday more special.’ I was really touched.
I have travelled with him to places as a friend and physician and it was such a pleasure. He remained completely unaffected by the tumultuous attention he got everywhere and took very good care of all those who accompanied him. I have seen top politicians, ministers and industrialists clamouring to meet him and there was never an air of self-importance when he faced such situations. He met everybody with equal grace and dignity.
Once, in winter, we travelled by train from Bombay to Ratlam (in Madhya Pradesh) en route to attend a temple consecration ceremony in Ujjain (also in Madhya Pradesh; about 110 km from Ratlam). After all the mobbing and mass hysteria he encountered calmly in Ujjain, we boarded a train to return to Bombay. It was December and very cold. When we reached Bombay Central station, he wanted to have some hot tea. I told him we could stop on our way home at an Irani restaurant in a locality called Mahim, which I knew opened very early. He liked the idea and we headed straight for the restaurant. The waiters were still not fully awake as they moved around. So at first they did not realize who had walked into the restaurant. Then they saw Dilip Sahab and ran to fetch their owner, who came and stood by our table unable to believe what he was seeing. Dilip Sahab greeted him as if he were a regular visitor and ordered chai (tea) and omelette with bun maska (butter). Dilip Sahab spoke to him like a true Irani and the man was grinning from ear to ear.
By then, the news had spread and a small crowd had collected outside. It t
ook a while for the dishes to be ready and, in that much time, the crowd had swelled. A police van too arrived. People were shouting ‘Dilip Kumar, Dilip Kumar’ and clamouring to see Dilip Sahab. The owner was getting scared now because the crowd could go wild. Dilip Sahab was ready to go out and meet his admirers who were now singing songs from his films. It was only 7 a.m. The police now came inside and requested Dilip Sahab to leave by the back door but he was reluctant to do so. Instead, he went to the entrance and spoke to the crowd, which was cordoned off by the police. The people gathered there soon calmed down and I could see how happy they were that their idol had not run away through the back door.
I have always seen the respect he gives to the admirers who come to meet him and to the countless fans who used to gather at venues when he addressed election rallies. He is a deeply patriotic Indian and makes no distinction between religions, regions, communities and languages. His heart goes out to the elderly and the aged and he loves children. When we have driven through the city, he has often asked me: ‘Shrikant, how can we change their [the impoverished children] lives and give them decent homes, water to bathe every day, go to school and have a normal childhood?’ It pains him when he sees street urchins and little girls who come and press their smiling faces against the car window at traffic signals, recognizing him and hoping to get some coins from him. He gives generously and they know it but they don’t know he is concerned and disturbed about their hapless condition.
I have been his friend and constant companion during travel for forty-odd years. His care and love for his sisters and brothers cannot be described in words. Likewise, his love and respect for Sairaji and her parents and grandmother are no less. He has given them and received the care and love of a son, not a son-in-law.