by Dilip Kumar
KAMAL HAASAN
I HAVE ALWAYS SAID THAT THERE ARE TWO actors who have been my primers: Sivaji Ganesan and Dilip Kumar Sahab. A slight regret I have is that I discovered the incredible beauty of Dilip Kumar Sahab’s acting a bit late thanks to the linguistic politics in the state [Tamil Nadu] because of which one did not get to see Hindi films. It was during a conversation with Ramesh Sippy before I started work in his Saagar [released in 1985] that he asked me whether I had seen Gunga Jumna. I told him I had seen most of Dilip Sahab’s early classics but I had not watched Gunga Jumna. He said: ‘What are you saying; watch the film before you begin work in Saagar, it will help you.’ He maintained that every actor should compulsorily watch Gunga Jumna for a study of screen histrionics. I did not delay watching Gunga Jumna after that chat and what a revelation it was!
I must say that it was after watching Dilip Kumar Sahab in films such as Gunga Jumna, Mughal-e-Azam, Devdas, Kohinoor and many other unforgettable classics that I began to understand the meaning of subtlety. I was able to appreciate the Western actors and the refinement of their acting also after I watched his films. It began to crystallize in my understanding of the eloquence of the medium that a mere look or sheer silence can convey so much and so powerfully. I agree it is not easy for every actor to achieve the brilliance he achieved with such seemingly effortless gestures but it is what every actor should try to emulate. My performances would not have been what they are if I had not studied Dilip Sahab’s works. He changed much in the way actors performed in his time and he also changed a lot many actors’ lives in later times, too, and I confess I am one of them.
I have some of the scenes in Gunga Jumna, for example, eternally embedded in my psyche. I am and always will be amazed by the layers of emotion he evoked in the viewer when he, as Prince Salim [in Mughal-e-Azam] simply sat in the royal darbar, saying nothing and doing nothing as Anarkali performed the provocative Pyar kiya to darna kya number. As an actor I know how difficult it is to create an impact in a sequence like that where you have nothing to do and you have to maintain the composure of the character of Prince Salim. I can go on like this about umpteen sequences in other films. As a student I have learned from them, too. He is the only actor who can hold a frame grippingly and it can be seen in Shakti. Rameshji told me he brought together two actors [the other being Amitabh Bachchan] who possessed the ability to hold a frame in many of the scenes of Shakti, which were talked about. From Dilip Sahab one learns that there can be immense power in stillness that still waters truly run deep.
I will confess unabashedly that some of the bricks of my house are Sivaji Sir’s and Dilip Sahab’s. Every time I have met Dilip Sahab I have found his humility and warmth unchanged. I remember Dilip Sahab attending the silver jubilee function of Ek Duje Ke Liye.* I also recall his presence at the distribution of the trophies on the silver jubilee run of Thevar Magan.** I went up to him and told him: ‘Sir, what an awesome film.’ He was surprised and did not know which film I was referring to. Then, I told him I was referring to Gunga Jumna.
He remembers everything about you and is ever so glad to spend time with you every time you visit him. I visited him two years ago and he was so warm and loving that it was difficult to take leave of him and go my way. In the past, he had described some events from his childhood in Peshawar. They were terrific descriptions and they stayed on in my memory. I tried to bring the ambience he described alive on the screen in my Vishwaroopam [2013]. His knowledge of the arts and literature is amazing.
I am so happy to be a part of the book you are writing. I cannot wait to lay my hands on it.
*Released in 1981, in which Kamal Haasan is the hero.
**A 1992 Tamil film produced and written by Kamal Haasan, in which he also acts along with his idol Sivaji Ganesan.
FARIDA JALAL
AS A FAMILY WE, MY BROTHER KHALID, MY MOM and I, have been great fans of Dilip Sahab from the time we began to watch films. Khalid and I discussed Dilip Sahab’s acting with such ardour that we sometimes even forgot to have our meals. Just talking about him and recalling scenes from his films was enough to fill our tummies. I am giving this background so that you can imagine the impact of a phone call I received one fine morning when I was shooting in Kashmir with my co-stars Rajesh Khanna and Sharmila Tagore in the late 1960s. The call was from Khalid who had heard from a reliable source that Dilip Sahab was considering me for his sister’s role in Gopi (released in 1970). I first thought that Khalid was pulling a fast one on me. Then, when Khalid insisted he had heard the news from a friend who was not one to pass on frivolous information, I could not contain my joy. The whole day passed with me in a dream-like state and now, when I look back, I don’t know how I conducted myself in the scenes I did that day.
The news was correct. As soon as I reached Bombay, I was asked to meet Dilip Sahab at his bungalow. I set out, along with my mother, with excitement and nervousness in my heart. It did not take more than a minute for me to feel completely relaxed when he came to meet us and began talking to me and my mother. He was so down to earth and so polite to my mother that it was an unbelievable experience for a rank newcomer like me.
He explained the role to me and then the most wonderful thing happened. Sairaji’s mother, Naseem Banuji, the celebrated beauty and star, came into the room and I was introduced to her. She said that she would design the rustic costume my character would be wearing in the film. I could not believe that it was all happening to me.
Gopi was a learning experience for me not only from the work point of view but also on a personal level. Whatever ego I carried with me about my ability to perform confidently before the camera was dismantled when I witnessed the utter humility with which Dilip Sahab interacted with everybody in the unit and the pains he took to achieve perfection in his work. I was surprised at times when I had to do scenes with him and he asked for retakes. I used to think how come such a great actor was going for so many retakes. I mentioned it to an assistant of Dilip Sahab and he laughed and told me that all the retakes were for me. He wanted my responses to improve and attain the level he desired. That is his greatness and I learned from him that a sequence or scene cannot reach the level of excellence till all the artistes in the sequence or scene gave their best. Most heroes are primarily concerned with the quality of their work and are least bothered about the quality of the work of other artistes in the shot.
I asked Dilip Sahab if I could address him as Bhaijaan (brother) and he said: ‘Yes, of course.’ That is the way I have been addressing him since then. I used to visit the bungalow where Bhaijaan and Sairabi* stayed in Madras and I was always warmly welcomed. By and by, Sairabi and I became friends. I could see that she was choosy and did not make friends easily. They made such a charming couple.
Following my inclusion in the cast of Gopi, I signed several films. Once, for the shooting of Gopi at Kolhapur [in Maharashtra], I reached late and Bhaijaan was upset. He said: ‘Remember success is the most demanding thing in an actor’s life. The more success you achieve, the more you have to work and be more responsible, committed and humble. Don’t let it go to your head; it can lead to your downfall even before you know it.’
In Bombay I used to stay in an apartment close to Sairabi’s bungalow. I used to be free to call on them informally because Sairabi and I continued our friendship. There was so much laughter and happiness in the house and all the nieces and nephews of Bhaijaan would be there, sometimes playing badminton with him in the garden or, at other times, playing chess in the living room with him. There used to be all sorts of tasty snacks coming from the kitchen for everybody and Bhaijaan always filled our plates before he put anything on his plate. He is a man who likes to give more than receive – something he has done all his life not only for his family but also for whoever has had the privilege of knowing him.
*The prefix ‘bi’ is used a term of respect for a woman.
ANIL KAPOOR
I WOULD NOT BE WRITING THIS PIECE IF I had not worked in three precious fi
lms with Dilip Kumar. Subhash Ghai and I are the only two people in the industry who can boast of this distinction!
Dilip Sahab’s contribution to my acting career is so valuable I will go to the extent of saying that if I am in the industry still working with unabated commitment and dedication it is only because of what I learnt from him indirectly, and what he taught me right from my first lead role in the film, Mashaal [1984].
I always speak about Shakti [1982] as my debut film for the special attention it gave me as a newcomer. I have a distinct memory of the day the scene was to be shot. I was extremely excited and nervous. I had lines to speak and my fear was that I would be tongue-tied in the presence of Dilip Sahab. At the same time I wished to impress him and cherish that moment forever in my life. So you can imagine how I summoned up the courage to stand before him for the shot.
Amitabh Bachchan was not required for the shooting but for some reason Ramesh Sippy had asked him to come to the set. So it was like a double whammy for me – with Dilip Sahab in front of me, fully prepared for the shot as he always is, and Amitabh looking on with his serious look from a distance. I have no memory of how I delivered my lines. All I could hear was my heart going ‘thud-thud’, when suddenly I heard applause from the unit hands and all the people gathered on the sets. I realized that I had given my first shot.
Dilip Sahab was very encouraging because he knew my father, Surinder Kapoor, who was an assistant to K. Asif in the making of Mughal-e-Azam, well. I remember, as a little boy, not one evening passed in our house without my father talking about the work Dilip Sahab was doing. We listened enthralled to the wonderful descriptions that dad gave us about the scenes shot for the film, how Dilip Sahab prepared for the shots and how impeccable his work was. Dad told us about Sahab’s humility, patience, dedication and commitment. The Sheesh Mahal [glass palace] set, he told us, took six months to erect and when the shooting started there were further delays because the director was unable to get what he wanted from the camera crew he had called from abroad. Not once did Dilip Sahab complain or lose his patience.
From my impressionable years, therefore, I was literally breathing Dilip Kumar and my sole aspiration was to grow up and find an opportunity to observe him at work. And that opportunity came with Mashaal. Initially I was not chosen to play the lead among the boys. I was to play one of them. Then, one day Yashji [Yash Chopra] called me and informed that I had to go to Bangalore with him. He did not tell me he was going to meet Dilip Sahab and he wanted his approval to cast me in the lead. Dilip Sahab was at the Jindal health resort going through a strict weight loss regime; he instantly recognized me and gave his approval.
I was so happy that I lay awake for nights experiencing a mix of elation and nervousness as the first schedule of Mashaal drew close. During the schedule there was a scene to be filmed in a canteen where I would be seated with my rowdy buddies and Dilip Sahab would come looking for me. We had to pretend we were indifferent knowing fully well that he would be in a rage as we had stoned the window panes of his house and rebuffed his wife.
In the rehearsal shot Dilip Sahab walked sturdily into the canteen and began on his dialogue. I kept ignoring him and suddenly I heard him shout: ‘Cut, cut, cut!’ I walked up to him and he said: ‘Why are you not facing me when I am talking to you?’
I said: ‘Sir, my character is one that is impudent and ill-mannered, so I thought I should not be looking straight at you while you are addressing me.’
Dilip Sahab immediately turned to Yashji and said: ‘Okay, let’s do the scene this way. I walk into the canteen, walk straight to Anil, pull him up by the scruff of his shirt collar, make him turn to me and then start talking to him.’ Both Yashji and I thought that was just right. He requested Yashji if we could go straight for the take. The entire unit was told that it would be a take and not a rehearsal and there was pin-drop silence. Dilip Sahab walked in briskly, pulled me up by my collar with his strong Pathani hand and I was choking and trembling as I looked into his piercing eyes. The take was okayed! There was wild applause because it was a superb shot and my expression could not have been more real. But I was sweating and still choking. Sahab noticed my predicament and he took me to a quiet corner and said he was sorry but sometimes it helped if the action got slightly real. He said: ‘When you see the shot on the screen and you get kudos for it you will know what I mean.’ And sure enough he was right!
All through the making of Mashaal, I had the privilege to observe the dedication and painstaking preparation he put into his work. He became my institute, my textbook, my encyclopaedia. I can never forget the shooting at night for the most unforgettable scene on a deserted street of Bombay when he begs for help from passing vehicles to take his dying wife to a hospital. Dilip Sahab stayed that night at the Taj Hotel and when he reported for the shooting at midnight we noticed that he was his usual self – cool, warm and affectionate. What followed when the cameras rolled and he became the helpless man desperately trying to save the life of his wife and is pushed mercilessly by a motorist on the rain-drenched street was bone-chilling. We were speechless, amazed and in tears. Only Dilip Kumar could have done that.
Shooting for Karma was hugely enjoyable and there are many memorable moments I recall. I saw the fun-loving, sprightly side of Dilip Sahab during the breaks when he regaled us with funny stories from his adolescence and youth. My father visited the sets and it was wonderful to see their bonding while recalling their old association. One thing my father always told me about Dilip Sahab was that he never forgot his old colleagues and associates and it gave him great pleasure to meet them no matter what their status in life may have become in the intervening years. My dad had become an independent, successful producer by then but there were others who had been around when he was rising to stardom and who had not made it big.
My father also told me that Dilip Sahab never wasted his time in frivolous gossip and gupshup. He spent his time with writers and intellectually advanced people with whom he could make intelligent conversation and exchange meaningful thoughts, and that I should learn from him. In fact, dad told us that Dilip Sahab had more friends outside the industry than within because he disliked talking shop and never encouraged hangers-on.
Today I tell my children what I have learnt from Dilip Sahab, the way my father told us about him when my brother, Boney, and I were young. I have always personally gone to invite Dilip Sahab and Sairaji to the premieres of my films as his blessings mean the world to me. I remember I returned home after the special trial of Pukar [2000] we had arranged for Dilip Sahab. When the show ended there were so many people surrounding him that I could not reach out to him. I was sitting in my study wondering what he would have had to say about my work when I was told Dilip Sahab was calling. He spoke to me for an hour firing from all the barrels of a gun appraising my work and giving me some of the most valuable advice an actor could ask for. He liked my work and he did not mince words to tell me so. I received the National Award months later for my work in the film, but for me the greatest award had come that night when Dilip Sahab appreciated my performance. That conversation rings in my ears even today when I gear up to face the cameras on any set in whichever part of the world I might be shooting in.
RISHI KAPOOR
I HAVE NEITHER BEEN RISHI NOR CHINTU for Yousuf Uncle. I am his ‘Sunny Boy’. The childhood memory of Yousuf Uncle that lingers in my mind is of him coming to our home in Chembur [in Bombay], often on the second Sunday of the month, when film workers took a break from film shootings and the stars, too, had to willy-nilly stay at home. He would invariably pass by me in the front yard where I would be playing with my friends. He would stop and ruffle my hair and say, ‘Sunny Boy, how do you do?’
I knew he was the superstar Dilip Kumar and also that he and papa were equals in the profession. My friends would look at him and he would smile warmly at them. I would hear papa coming out to welcome him, yelling: ‘Lalay, tune der kar di.* I have been waiting since morning ….’ They would hug and
get lost in each other’s company the whole afternoon.
Yousuf Uncle and papa shared an eternal fraternal relationship, which nobody could fathom or believe. They were in competition with each other as stars and yet they loved each other as though they were born to the same parents. At home it was like a celebration when papa and Yousuf Uncle got together. Since both loved food, my mother would be scurrying around from morning telling the cook what to prepare for lunch and then tea. Papa would be waiting all fresh and scrubbed and ready in his Pathan attire like an excited child. I guess for both of them it was a reliving of their childhood days in Peshawar, the native city they grew up in or the days they studied at Khalsa College in Bombay or the days they spent at Bombay Talkies, where they worked in their formative years.
I think Raj Kapoor loved him in the same measure as he loved his brothers, Shammi and Shashi. Perhaps he shared thoughts and emotions and secret aspirations more with Yousuf Uncle than he did with anybody in the family.
They sure had their professional rivalry. It would have been abnormal if they did not compete as professionals. The beauty of their rivalry was that they hated to see each other fail or fall from their respective positions as superstars. They were proud of each other and I have vivid memories of their watching rushes of my debut film Bobby [1973] in the RK mini theatre as also Mera Naam Joker [1970] while these were being made. Papa respected Yousuf Uncle’s opinion immensely. I also remember the way they would sit in papa’s office and plan fund-raising drives and charity shows to raise money for the government when a national disaster occurred. With them spearheading the whole activity it was natural that the participation from the industry was hundred per cent. Who indeed could say no to either of them?