Lekh Tandon’s swan song, which would have marked his comeback after two decades, seems, in hindsight, like a precursor to the recent SC judgement on triple talaq
Khalid Mohamed (MUMBAI MIRROR; October 18, 2017)

Close to the weekend at an art gallery, the seasoned cinematographer Jehangir Chowdhury had updated me, “I’ve just completed shooting a film with a director who’s close to 90 as well as a first-time filmmaker who was Kundan Shah’s assistant.”

The director approaching the nonagenarian phase of his life was none other than Lekh Tandon, who passed away on Sunday, at the age of 89. Unbeknownst to most, the tenacious stalwart had completed filming Phir Ussi Mod Par, which critiques the triple talaq custom.

Quite piquantly, just as the principal scenes of the two-hour-long feature were wrapped up, in August, the Supreme Court struck down the practice which allows Muslim men to instantly divorce their wives. No extra scenes were foisted in. The legal reform will be quoted at the end of the film, which is currently in the final stages of post-production.

Shot on Mumbai studio sets, made to resemble a northern small-town, Tandon’s last film features TV star Jividha Astha, newcomer Kaif Khan and character actors Kanwaljit Singh, Parmeet Sethi and Govind Namdev.

The swan song of Tandon — whose oeuvre comprises 14 feature films and three TV serials, including Dil Darya, introducing Shah Rukh Khan, and a clutch of acting roles — has been inspired by real-life case studies of cavalierly divorced Muslim women.

Initially, he had devised the script for a TV series. On completing the writing, he believed it would work as his return to the big screen, after a hiatus of 20 years since the little-seen Do Raahain (1997), spotlighting Meenakshi Seshadri as an investigative reporter caught in the web of political skulduggery.

The director of such cherished entertainers as Professor (1962), Amrapali (1966), Jhuk Gaya Aasman (1968), Prince (1969), the sleeper hit Dulhan Wahi Jo Piya Man Bhaaye (1977), Ek Baar Kaho (1980) and Agar Tum Na Hote (1983), was the first to deal with the subject of surrogate parenthood with Doosri Dulhan (1993).

The drama, which was ahead of its time, revolved around a childless couple enacted by Sharmila Tagore and Victor Banerjee, who hire a surrogate mother, a sex worker, played by Shabana Azmi. Strong shades of the story went unacknowledged in the Salman Khan-Rani Mukherjee-Preity Zinta movie Chori Chori Chupke Chupke (2001), directed by Abbas-Mustan. It happens.

Chowdhury narrates that of late Tandon had moved towards themes within a social context. He adds, “Practically the entire unit worked on the project because we could never say no to him. He had given me my first break, with Dulhan Wahi Jo Piya Man Bhaaye immediately after I graduated from the Film and Television Institute of India. We’d have our different perspectives. On occasion he’d go with some of my suggestions. Example: the picturisation of the lullaby on Rameshwari and Madan Puri. He could be hot-tempered and he could be cool-headed. His forte was his screenplays, his lines of dialogue were simple, literate and effective.”

Soon after the devastation wrought in Mumbai by the rains of July 26, 2005, Tandon shifted from his ground-floor home in Bandra’s MIG colony to the Powai high-rise apartment of his daughter, Geeta Malhotra.

“We’re two brothers and two sisters. Dad doted on all his five grandchildren. I’m fortunate he chose to stay with my family in Powai,” Geeta states, muffling her tears. “Ever since my mother passed away seven years ago, he had developed a fear of staying alone. Also, he could never believe that the floods had destroyed his collection of books, which ranged from English classic novels and thriller paperbacks to tomes on the techniques of filmmaking. Recently, he was re-reading Rhonda Byrne’s selfhelp book The Secret.”

The daughter is confident that Phir Ussi Mod Pe, whose budget was pushed up beyond the demarcated Rs 3 crore, will find buyers. Tandon had self-financed it to a degree, partnered by his friend, businessman T Bajpayee. The two had collaborated on TV serials earlier.

According to the daughter, of his archive of works, Professor and Amrapali remained his favourites. He was always cheerful and didn’t suffer from any advanced age illnesses, till a sudden brain haemorrhage.

“He was never the same again,” she says, tears streaming, “Even when he was bed-ridden, we would trim his snow white beard which his grandchildren loved to play with.”