Film director Rahul Rawail (‘Betaab’, ‘Arjun’) worked as an assistant to Raj Kapoor in ‘Mera Naam Joker’ and ‘Bobby’. In a conversation with Avijit Ghosh, Rawail talks about his book, ‘Raj Kapoor: The Master At Work’, which offers a first-hand view of the art and craft of the filmmaker who regaled millions in India and the world with his conscientious social dramas and passionate romances. Edited excerpts:

The way he organised everything, the way he paid attention to all the departments. He was like a music director conducting a symphony.

The circus scene in Mera Naam Joker. He was working with a unit of 300 people, 5,000 junior artistes, 100 Russian circus artistes. Indian circus artistes. Animal trainers. And there was this one man controlling everything like clockwork, like he knew everything that he was doing.

His attention to detail. And also his thinking about the film all the time. That process never ended. The driving force was to deliver the best possible film that he could. That’s what he aimed for and wanted to achieve.

Normally in a party scene, you have people who are supposed to be drinking alcohol. You mixed Thums Up with water to make it look like whiskey. To the viewer, it was normal; to the unit it was inexpensive. In Bobby, he wanted champagne to be served for the scene. So we mixed Limca with soda. He said: “This is a billionaire’s party. It has to be real champagne.” I said that would be very expensive. He said: “I don’t care. The look of the man drinking champagne would be different from the look he would have when drinking Limca with soda.”

It was just the passion with which he made films. It was all a master plan in his mind which he executed piece by piece.

He believed that his films should definitely carry a social message. He did what he believed in. That’s why the films worked and in a big way. His last film, Ram Teri Ganga Maili, was the biggest hit R K Films ever had. Starting from Aag in 1948, we can see flashes of a genius. The progression was huge. Technology was changing but he didn’t pay much attention to it. He said: “What I say is from my heart. That doesn’t change. There may be a different way to shoot it. But I shoot a film, the way I see it.” He never went for any kind of gimmickry.

Pay attention to your film, think about it all the time. Don’t let your mind waver from the film. Do what your heart says. Almost 95%, it will be the right thing. Maybe 5% it will not. But it doesn’t matter. And if it doesn’t work, don’t give up hope.

He was a complete foodie. His life revolved around films and food. He used to drive from Chembur to the town, then an hour’s drive, to take the Deccan Queen to Pune for the food it served. I think even when he was eating, his mind was working on the film. Suddenly, he would say, I am thinking about this and let us do it like this in the shooting tomorrow. I think those were just tools which he used for his mind to be working.

Absolutely. We were all given the same food to eat. There was never any differentiation. We would have chicken, fish, mutton, prawns or crabs. It was a huge spread. The food was laid on one table together. Everybody had to come there to eat. During a film’s final editing, he would first sit and work out the menu. Somebody would say, the dal is very good, or the chicken there is very good. He would say write it down. Then 2-3 cars would go in various directions to pick up the food. That’s the way he worked. Somewhere that not only made him happy but also made people working for him happy.

Ballsy Vidya Balan on Bollywood and the walk longer than Chembur to Juhu, or Nariman Point to Bandra!
Mayank Shekhar (MID-DAY; August 29, 2020)

There's Sahir's 'Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaaye toh kya hai' kinda quality to the last time actor Vidya Balan felt her thoughts on her professional life totally turn around. On the Sunday after the release of her film Hamari Adhuri Kahani (2015), directed by Mohit Suri — who she says she couldn't "gel with, in an actor-director relationship" — producer Mahesh Bhatt called to say that the film had pretty much tanked in theatres.

This, after a series of back-to-back commercial duds — Bobby Jasoos (2014), the outcome of which had disappointed her the most; Shaadi Ke Side Effects (2014); Ghanchakkar (2013). Unsure of what to do, Balan's husband, producer Siddharth Roy Kapur — a non-believer himself — simply drove her down to the Sai Baba temple in Chembur. Where she just wailed non-stop, totally out of breath. She knew something needed to change about her life.

The penny dropped. "I realised I'd begun to focus too much on numbers. That stress had taken the joy away from what I do — that I like, and enjoy so much!" I didn't ask the exact lane the said Sai Baba temple is in. Which Balan says she used to visit every day of her growing up in Mumbai's eastern suburb.

Glad she brought up Chembur though. For that's where I'm chatting with her (on video) from. She's at her husband's office in Khar, which is also the neighbourhood her parents moved to, while she lives in Juhu. These are heartwarming coordinates for Bombayites, among whom she remains still the 'Chembur girl'.

The now popular term 'outsider' refers to first-generation professionals in the film industry. And they're in huge numbers — lead actors aren't all there is to the movies. Still, there are in fact far fewer 'insiders' of Bombay, who are but outsiders to Bollywood, than you'd imagine. Despite the unmatchable geographical/real-estate head-start.

Especially among heroes, if you may. Even Govinda, the 'Virar ka chokra', is a producer's son. Off-hand one mainstream Bollywood hero from Bombay, but with no family connections to films, I can think of, is Balan's super-hit Bhool Bhulaiyaa (2007) co-star, Akshay Kumar, who grew up in Sion, quite close to Chembur: "Shilpa [Shetty] was three years my senior in school [St Anthony's], although I didn't know her personally then," Balan points out.

"But it's such a valid observation, I wonder why," she asks, as an answer. "There are various levels of being an insider-outsider, in any case. This debate has left me confused. It's different for different people, right? Also family/financial support makes it easier, if you are not operating from a space of survival. Think it's about how hard you're willing to work, once you get that break. And even how much you're willing to wait out for that break!"

Speaking of which, one of the instant inspirations/reasons to invite Balan over for this edition of Sit with Hitlist was in fact music composer Shantanu Moitra, who recently spoke at length on the reality show Times Of Music, about how Balan had auditioned 75 times for her debut film Parineeta (2005). It was while she was in the front row of a Bryan Adams concert that producer Vidhu Vinod Chopra finally called to say she was on.

Hearing it from the horse's mouth, Bryan Adams has turned into Enrique Iglesias. The number 75, Balan feels, is way off the mark. But yes, Iglesias was playing her favourite track Hero. Chopra insisted she step out of the venue to take her call. She heard the sweetest music to her ears, "You're my Parineeta." Up until then, Chopra had wanted Aishwarya Rai for the part: "He was putting in a lot of money, I was a newcomer, and the film was called Parineeta [after the female protagonist] for God's sake!"

She only has to thank, first, the persistence of her ad filmmaker-mentor Pradeep Sarkar (Dada), who had written the role, based on Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay's novel, keeping Balan in mind. She'd performed in a series of Sarkar's ad films, plus music videos, starting with Euphoria's Kabhi aana tu meri gully.

She had even assisted him on a Fanta commercial, with Rani Mukerji in it, and where she "learnt nothing on the set". Because the crew, knowing that she was Sarkar's future leading-lady, was too busy taking care of her instead!

"Before my last test for Parineeta, I went to Dada, and said whatever happens, this is also your first [feature] film —just make it with or without me. His wife was there. He looked at her and said, 'Tell her something, tu kya keh rahi hai?' He had more belief in me than I had in myself." Evidently, beyond talent, you need somebody to appreciate it, and offer you a job, basically —just as it takes a village to make both a film, and a star.

Having not formally trained in acting per se, Balan credits Naseeruddin Shah, for instance, for texting her during the shoot of Milan Luthria's The Dirty Picture (2011) that she learn to leave behind her character on set, before heading home. The film remains still her most iconic, and that took everything out of her. Kahaani (2012), in comparison, she suggests, was a breeze, because she had all along been part of the writing process as a sounding-board for director Sujoy Ghosh.

The Dirty Picture, inspired by the life of south siren Silk Smitha, is also iconic because of the line, 'Filmein sirf teen cheezon ki wajah se chalti hain: Entertainment, entertainment, entertainment. Aur main entertainment hoon!" It's an obvious take on hotelier Conrad Hilton's famous quote about three things you need to run a successful hotel: Location, location, location!

"Now, it is my introduction at every event I go to. I had no idea it would become so popular. There were other lines that I thought would. It's all in Rajat Arora's [dialogue] writing." The one I love from one of her films the most though, while not her dialogue, is the tag-line, "Tumhara ishq, ishq; aur hamara ishq, sex?"

Apparently actor Shiney Ahuja had responded with these words after being narrated Ishqiya's script by director Abhishek Chaubey. It stuck. Arshad Warsi finally played the part — vying with uncle (Naseer) for Balan's attention: "I was just amazed by how Arshad mouths a lot of throwaway lines, like it just came out of his head! That's the beauty of his delivery."

Yet, so far as shock value of a film is concerned, towering over The Dirty Picture might well be Paa (2009), with Balan playing Amitabh Bachchan's mom: "[Before shoot] I kept chewing [director] Balki's brains to set up a reading with Mr Bachchan. Mother and son have a very physically comfortable relationship. I just can't hit him on the head, or instinctively pull his cheeks. You normally do that with a child. He is Amitabh Bachchan! We were shooting from Monday. Balki called me to Mr Bachchan's house for a look-test on Friday — to be [finally] followed by a reading. Abhishek [Bachchan, who plays the husband] and I were ready with our costumes, waiting for Mr Bachchan to emerge from the make-up room. When he came out, I told Balki, I don't need a reading. I saw a 13-year-old Auro. Something happened. I'm getting that same feeling [recalling the moment]!"

And these are generally the instinctive/immersive moments that Balan has managed to create, movie after movie. The last time we saw her on screen was as the math wiz Shakuntala Devi. The film had to drop online — instead of releasing in theatres — due to the pandemic. Her film before that Mission Mangal (2019), with a female ensemble cast, plus Akshay Kumar, had her headlining the act — surpassing Rs 200 crore, touching Rs 300 crore, at the box-office.

By all accounts, Shakuntala Devi was equally well-received on Amazon Prime, although nobody knows its viewership figure. Personally, what's the difference that she's discovered between success online, and in theatres?

She says, "The reactions come staggered — well after the date [the film drops]. With movies in theatres, after the first weekend, all conversations are centred on numbers. Also, unlike with Mission Mangal, where my character was fictionalised, Shakuntala Devi was a real person. And so, people read more and more about her, and kept getting back with responses."

To pick a few, I cite mythologist Devdutt Pattanaik, who argued in his mid-day column that Shakuntala Devi's husband actually being gay was conveniently/unfortunately touted as hoax in the film. Balan gently counters, "Shakuntala Devi's daughter [from whose perspective the film has been written, and who partnered on the project] has been very transparent talking about her mother. Why wouldn't she do the same with her father?"

Some people who'd actually met Shakuntala Devi had found her to be reserved, even if witty; rather than boisterous as Balan played the part in the picture: "Maybe they met her at a time when she was not very boisterous for whatever reasons. Maybe she was going through something, I don't know."

Also, there was a phony element of contestable astrology/numerology mixed with her skill with numbers that the film hardly touched upon — let alone debated — from Shakuntala Devi's life: "It is a two-hour film. We wanted to definitely focus on the maths, which is what got her worldwide recognition. The politics, astrology and all of that came much later in her life."

To be fair to Balan, who's not the film's writer, but as she puts it, "People will have various opinions, especially because it is a real person that we're talking about. And I respect that. But then, it would have been a different film. This is the film we chose to make!" Point taken. Possibly applies to a lot of arguments around biopics, actually.

Where Shakuntala Devi does follow a seamless narrative — a natural extension of sorts — is actually in Balan's own current filmography — if you also consider Tumhari Sulu (2017), right before Mission Mangal. What's common to these films — besides feminist subjects — are the roles of almost impossibly secure and sweet men by her side. Whether it's Shakuntala's husband Paritosh (Jisshu Sengupta), Tara's Sunil (Sanjay Kapoor) or Sulu's Ashok (Manav Kaul). There seems to be a feminist film in the Balan mould, developing into a sub-genre of its own. Or too soon to tell? "I think that is my world view. The men in my life have been the same. They have just accepted me and the women around for who they are. I feel that's where it comes from."

Really? No jerk boyfriends, ever? "Yeah, well, it's literally a rite of passage. Unless you go through… I'm trying not to use harsh rude words here. But you know, you have to sift through life to get the real deal!"

Maybe I'm just trying to locate/shame some douches of Chembur she grew up with! Or let's go back to my current Auro-like obsession: Why aren't there so many Bombay-born/bred superstars from outside Bollywood families? Could it be that Bambaiya Hindi is no good? Compare, say, Cyrus Broacha to Nawazuddin Siddiqui in a Hindi picture, if you may (no knock; just kidding Cyrus!).

Balan laughs. In her case, because she was clear she wanted to be an actor from a young age, she made sure her Hindi was perfect: "My parents have an accent, I don't." Besides, she can speak fluent Tamil, Malayalam, Telugu, Urdu, Bengali, English… What language does she think in? "In English. But on the set, at work, it's weird — only Hindi. I recently did a Telugu film (the NTR biopic), and I had to keep translating Telugu into Hindi in my head first."

If it wasn't for a string of bad luck, which ironically led her thereafter to be considered jinxed — having debuted opposite Mohanlal, and with around multiple Malayalam films signed up, on that account alone, Balan was once all set to kick off her career, between 2000-03, as a South Indian star. The Mohanlal movie, after being extensively shot, got shelved. All other producers backed off.

In the Tamil industry, Balan had been signed up by veteran K Balachander for two films. Subsequently, dropped from both. There were two other films that she got replaced from, after having shot for their first schedules. She also walked out of another, realising on the set, that it was a sex-comedy: "I got sued at 22!"

It reached a point that her parents landed up in Chennai at the office of one of the producers who had fired her. He simply remarked: "Just look at her; does she look like a heroine?" "For six months, I didn't look into the mirror. Broken, I once walked in the scorching heat from Nariman Point to Bandra, like a [revelatory] scene in a film — just to clear my head." That's 18 kilometres straight.

She did travel a much further distance, only few years later though. After Rajkumar Hirani's Lage Raho Munna Bhai (2006), she bumped into the same 'look at her face' producer at the airport, who right away offered her a film [opposite Kamal Haasan]. "I said sure, speak to my manager!" Kamal Haasan called later. She couldn't do the film: "My father felt a great sense of vindication. They've brought us up to feel the world's fair."

It rarely is. It also depends on how you look at it. Behind all the 'Miss Congeniality' exterior, if you observe her 15 years as a movie star, Balan comes across as one of the ballsiest in Bollywood. And yet never making a lamenting event of herself — almost disarmingly turning on its head the simplistic grammar/binary of victim and oppressor.

She's had a fair share of trolling — mainly body-shaming, style-policing online, and in the mainline press — a reason, I'm told, she rarely reads anything about herself. Whether any of this targeting has to do with groupism/favouritism, it's essential that this bullying aspect of the profession is being brought to light. As it has been, lately.

That's one of the reasons an old video-clip of her at a film-award show, being called out by hosts Shah Rukh Khan, Saif Ali Khan, for her tacky costume in the film Heyy Babyy (2007), started doing the rounds online. She looks visibly pissed in that moment. Such shows are typically scripted with celebs in the audience told in advance about what to expect for an impromptu engagement/act. Not the case?

"I'm a sport, and I was fine with it actually. But when I went there, I realised there were a couple of other contenders [for the worst dressed] award as well. They said they couldn't give it to them, because so-and-so, and the people around them, will get upset. I felt cheated and angry. I thought, now, that is a clear case of — and it didn't occur to me then, because I don't look at the world through that prism… I don't know, what is it called, nepotism?" Balan laughs.

Rachana Dubey (BOMBAY TIMES; August 22, 2019)

It was 71 years ago in the month of August when Raj Kapoor shot Aag (1948) with Nargis, the first film to be produced under his banner R K Films. The movie, shot at the iconic R K Studios in Chembur, gave birth to Raj Kapoor’s company and studio that went on to live for generations, even long after he passed away. In August last year, the filmmaker’s son Rishi Kapoor announced that he and his siblings had decided to sell off the studio, which faced irreparable damage in a fire in 2016.

The studio, which had seen innumerable films and TV shows being shot in its premises, was also home to the Kapoor family’s annual Ganeshotsav in Chembur. Last year, Raj Kapoor’s eldest son, actor Randhir Kapoor, had told us that it was indeed the last of the celebrations in the studio, which had by then, changed hands. When we visited the site of the studio recently, we found that apart from the iconic gate, nothing of the studio really remains. Its canteen (frequented by stars of yore), the shooting floors and recording studios have all been demolished to make way for a plush complex. However, the gate of the studio will be maintained by the new developers as a memory of Mumbai and Hindi cinema’s iconic cinema landmark.

When we reached out to Randhir Kapoor, he said, “I am sad to see everything has been razed. However, the place will always hold a special place in our hearts because it’s been a part of our lives. It was my father’s legacy. When the studio got terribly damaged in that fire, we had to take a step back and think. Such decisions are not easy to arrive at. It was economically not viable for us to keep the studio, repair it and maintain it because we did not have many takers for the studio floors. The shoots have all moved to the Western suburbs. So, it only made sense to let R K Studios go. The gate, I’m told will stay as is and will continue to remind people of RK Studios. We will be thankful to the developers for that.”

Actress Padmini Kolhapure, a Raj Kapoor discovery, shot several films at the RK Studio, including her debut Satyam Shivam Sundaram (1978). When we told her about the studio floor being razed, she reminisced the times when she would spend her days working at the studio. “Today, so many memories attached to R K Studios are coming back to me. It’s sad that now whenever I pass Chembur, I won’t find the studio there, but in Raj uncle’s words, ‘The show must go on’. The memories will live on forever. I shot a lot of films there, so much so that I could call the studio my second home. Satyam Shivam Sundaram, Prem Rog (1982), Rahi Badal Gaye (1985), Yeh Ishq Nahi Aasan (1984) are some of my films I vividly remember shooting for at R K Studios. I feel a stronger connection to the place because I was an R K Films’ heroine. We shot 30 per cent of Prem Rog in the studio at Chembur. We had set up massive sets for the songs. I can never forget those days when we filmed Mohabbat hai kya cheez and Yeh galiyan yeh chaubara there. I was virtually living there. Raj uncle would treat us to such amazing food, and their canteen was phenomenal, too. He would often open the theatre for me to watch some of his classics like Awara (1951) and Shree 420 (1955). He loved cinema and he wanted people to acquaint themselves with it. Raj uncle’s cottage (where he would sit and talk to us), his Holi parties, the recording rooms, the canteen — there's no corner of R K Studio that I don’t remember and that I won’t miss. Whenever I travelled to Pune, I made it a point to go past the R K Studios because I would bow before the Lord Shiva idol they have at the entrance. The studio formed a great part of the city’s legacy and I will miss it each time I pass the bend where it once stood.”

Simi Garewal, who had worked in Raj Kapoor’s Mera Naam Joker (1970), had also made a documentary on the legendary filmmaker's life. She said, “I always thought men go, but their monuments and buildings remain. Now, both have gone. But the memories will remain as long as we live. I don’t mourn the end of R K Studios, the films we made there will remain forever.”

Filmmaker Imtiaz Ali, who shot a song for his last film, Jab Harry Met Sejal (2017) at the studio, told us, “R K Studios is a hallmark in progressive Indian filmmaking and it’s my privilege to have filmed there. Although it is sad to know that it does not exist physically anymore, it will live on in the ethos of Indian filmmaking forever. I would also like to point out that things change, and filmmaking techniques have changed a lot as well, so from time to time, such hard news is inevitable. I shot a song of Jab Harry Met Sejal there, and I visited the make-up rooms as often as possible in the memory of all the great film personalities like Raj Kapoor and others, who have spent time there.”

Krishna Raj Kapoor With her hubby and sons — Rishi, Rajiv and Randhir Kapoor

Meena Iyer (DNA; October 2, 2018)

On Monday morning, the Hindi film fraternity woke up to the extremely sad news of Krishna Raj Kapoor’s demise. I will always remember her as the First Lady of Bollywood. It was her elder son, Randhir, who said, “I regret to announce that I lost my mother early this morning. She died peacefully.” The wife of Padma Bhushan recipient and Dabasaheb Phalke awardee, filmmaker Raj Kapoor, Krishnaji (88) died of a cardiac arrest at 5 am on October 1, 30 years after she lost her husband on June 2, 1988.

Krishna Raj Kapoor with husband Raj Kapoor

While friends and family members poured in to pay their last tributes, her son Rishi, who left for the US with Neetu and Ranbir on Saturday, couldn’t be present for the last rites. Speaking of Krishnaji, well, a hundred memories live with me. From her immaculate, usually, clad-in-white appearance to her bright lipstick and well-manicured painted nails, almost everything is etched vividly in my mind. Apart from being a benevolent human being, she was also extraordinarily sharp.
On one of my visits to her Deonar residence two years ago, I bent to touch her feet and she reprimanded me saying, “Betiyaan, pair nahin chhooti.” Yes, the Punjabis do not permit their daughters to touch the feet of elders because they feel a girl should never have to ‘bend’ as they are considered Goddesses. So, while Rishi Kapoor, with whom I had gone to their family home, touched his mum’s feet and got blessed in turn, I got a hug from the lady.

Next, we were treated to a glass of chaas. And, then asked to go about our business. We were picking out photographs for Rishi’s autobiography, Khullam Khulla. And, Krishnaji had kindly given us access to the treasure trove of family albums spanning seven decades that are lying safe in aluminium trunks on the bungalow’s first floor.

Krishna Raj Kapoor with Raj Kapoor and a young Rishi

At lunchtime, the lady of the house appeared dressed in a dark-coloured salwar kameez, her sartorial choice a rare exception. When we requested her for a photograph, she promptly pulled out her orange lipstick, dabbed her lips and said, “I’m ready.” Like the rest of her khandaan, she didn’t relish the fact that I was a vegetarian because the choices for a herbivorous person are limited at the Kapoor lunch table. Once that hurdle was crossed, she enthusiastically fed me aloo-gobhi and garam parathas, explaining how the cauliflower was broken into pieces, not cut in the Kapoor family kitchen. Minutes later, she saw Chintu eating without wearing a napkin. She wrinkled her nose and said, “Napkin pehen loh.” It was sweet to see a 64-year-old Rishi (in 2016) being pulled up by his mother for his lack of table manners on that occasion.
Like I said at the start, Krishnaji was her own person. She didn’t suffer fools and though the world believed that she lived in her legendary husband Raj Kapoor’s shadow, this was not true.

In his book, Chintu spoke so affectionately of his mother. He said, “When my dad wanted to cast me as the young Raju in Mera Naam Joker (1970), he had to take permission from my mother, who gave him the go-ahead with a caveat saying — it should not interfere with my school studies.”

Not many may know this. Chembur would not have been the destination for the famed RK Studios that came up on a barren plot of land there seven decades ago. Bollywood’s showman wanted the studio to be built at Tardeo back in the day. Legend has it that when Krishna heard that Raj saab had a choice of choosing between Tardeo and Chembur, she promptly told him to choose the latter. The reason, according to the family grapevine, is that Nargis had a home in South Mumbai and Krishna didn’t want anything too close to her place as she was romantically involved with Raj for many years.

Krishna Raj Kapoor with Raj Kapoor and Prithviraj Kapoor

It is also a legendary tale that when Krishna learnt of Raj saab’s reported involvement with Vyjayanthimala, she walked out of her home with her children and headed to Natraj Hotel in South Mumbai. Raj later bought his estranged family a home in another location but, eventually, Prithviraj Kapoor intervened and the domestic squabble was sorted. Yet years later, Krishnaji had matured and mellowed. She was a changed person altogether. Rishi also recalled how, when Nargis set foot in the R K Studios compound after 36 years, in January 1980 on the occasion of his marriage to Neetu Singh, she was nervous. But it is said that Krishna took her aside and put her at ease saying, “My husband is a handsome man. He is also a romantic. I can understand the attraction. I know what you are thinking, but please don’t beat yourself up over the past. You have come to my home and I cannot tell you how happy I am.”
Neetu Kapoor, who spoke to her mother-in-law every single day after her marriage until the very end, addresses her as her most favourite person in the world. Mrs Kapoor made a few daily calls. Besides Rishi and Neetu, Amitabh Bachchan, whose daughter Shweta is married to Krishna’s grandson, Nikhil Nanda, used to chat with her almost daily when he was in Mumbai. Big B always made it a point to inquire about her health and she, in turn, told him details of her failing health and she blessed him.

When Neetu turned 60 on July 8 and was heading to Paris for the celebrations, her only wish was that her ma-in-law should accompany her! Here in Mumbai, too, the saas-bahu had a fixed routine. Krishnaji and Neetu usually frequented a Chinese restaurant at a five-star in BKC. Besides eating there, the senior Mrs Kapoor would also carry a parcel of their signature Peking Duck back with her to Deonar to share it with her other two sons — Randhir and Rajiv — who spent time with her at the bungalow.

Krishna Kapoor, Dev Anand and Rishi Kapoor

There are innumerable stories about the senior Mrs Kapoor, but one of my favourite ones is the one where she called Rishi and Neetu on New Year’s Eve last year to ask them about their plans. “We are listening to Shirdi Sai Baba bhajans,” said Neetu because both Chintu and she had stopped going out on NYE for a few years now. To which the matriarch of the khandaan told her, “I am out in Khandala partying with my friends. They will ring in my birthday (January 1) in just a bit. So, you old people listen to bhajans, I will party on your behalf.”

She shares a laugh with grandson Ranbir Kapoor

Ranbir Kapoor had grown particularly fond of his grandma when he stayed with her a couple of years ago. The duo spent hours bonding, watching television and generally chatting about cinema. And though Mrs Kapoor was slightly uncomfortable around his two Mastiffs, Leo and Guido, she was happy to have them around because it also meant keeping her grandson close. She tiptoed around them, but was happy to watch her favourite pota play in the garden with his pets.

Besides her family, Krishnaji’s favourite people were journalist Nishi Prem (who was virtually a neighbour in Chembur) and Dimple Kapadia. Until a few years ago, Salman Khan’s mother Salma was also extremely close to Krishna. However, of late, Salma hadn’t been such a regular with this gang. They were part of her kitty group and the girls met up regularly for some food and fun. Neetu recently hosted them at her Bandra residence and their joie de vivre reverberated around her Bandra residence, long after Krishnaji and Nishi had driven off to Chembur.

Actually, some people never really go away. They continue to live in your memory forever.

Krishna Raj Kapoor with Saira Banu and Dilip Kumar

KRISHNA RAJ KAPOOR (1931 - 2018)

Krishna Raj Kapoor was a model star wife for whom the hearth and home mattered above all
Khalid Mohamed (MUMBAI MIRROR; October 2, 2018) 

She was married to a showman, but any kind of attention embarrassed her. She was particularly adept at deflecting conversations that harked back to the good and bad old days. Instead, she’d want to know how you’d been doing, why you’d lost weight, and whether you had managed to make another trip to the Nantes film festival in France.

Krishna Raj Kapoor, who passed away following a cardiac arrest at the age of 87 on Monday morning, followed the cardinal rule of speaking only when spoken to. She was aware she could be glorified as a woman of forbearance. She was aware she could be extolled as a woman who remained rock firm against a shoal of calumnies. She didn’t need that. Her silence spoke volumes.

The only time I heard her murmur a sentence of regret, was when she couldn’t retrieve the hundreds of stills clicked by a photographer assigned to cover the studio shoots of the R.K. banner films. “Pata nahin,” she had smiled wanly, “he doesn’t wish to part with them or even make copies.”

Her eyes, though, would disclose a certain tenderness, touched by a hint of melancholia. Her self-discipline in serving as a binding force to India’s greatest showman, Raj Kapoor, must have taken a toll. If he exuded flamboyance, she radiated restraint. You could call it a classic case of opposites attract -- and despite hiccups -- be together till the last breath.


Indeed, she became a role model for film star wives, inwardly conscious that it’s ultimately the hearth and home which matter. Subservient she could never be. She was an equal and at points, even the superior one, a status which can now be accorded to her unflinchingly. During her lifetime, she would have been offended by any form of panegyric.

The story of the Rewa born girl is the stuff that love stories are made of. At the age of 16, the daughter of police inspector general Raisaheb Kartar Nath Malhotra, married the upcoming actor Raj Kapoor who was 22 then. The blue-eyed dreamer had seen her play a tanpura on visiting the home of her brother actor Premnath.

Inspector general Malhotra was the maternal cousin of R.K.’s father Prithviraj Kapoor. So, they were distantly related. What is colloquially known as ‘an arranged love marriage’ was fixed. Rewinding to the wedding ceremony, the late thespian Ashok Kumar, would often chuckle, “Krishna peeked at me from under her ghunghat and told Raj, ‘Oh he’s so handsome!’ He didn’t quite like that and must have sworn that he would become much more famous than me. Which he did.”


Accustomed to a large family – she had 11 siblings including Rajendra Nath and Narendra Nath who went on to become actors – the bride segued into the patriarchal Prithviraj Kapoor family which had anchored itself in a Matunga neighbourhood.

Raj Kapoor’s career was on the ascent, simultaneously as an actor, producer and director. Her family helped him with a financial loan to build the R.K. Studio in Chembur. “Dad and my grandfather weren’t flush with money those days,” son Rishi Kapoor has recalled, adding, “Relatively, my mother’s family was well-off.”

Raj Kapoor’s spiralling popularity was accompanied by his legendary romance with Nargis. The passion play between the creator and his muse was no secret. The on-screen chemistry, evidenced notably in Barsaat, Awara and Shree 420, was so palpable that the pair became socially acceptable off-screen even in the corsetted 1950s.

Krishna Raj Kapoor didn’t recoil or threaten the showman with ultimatums. Mother to five children — Randhir, Ritu, Rishi, Rajiv and Rima — her winning card was tolerance.


Tolerance, in such a context, may sound regressive. For a mother, however, tolerance was the unalloyed strength and priority. Within and outside the film industry, polygamy was rampant. Suffice it to say she had to withstand it, an option which is exercised to this day and millennium by Bollywood’s first wives’ club — till it comes to a breaking point.

Raj Kapoor and Nargis parted ways without any demands on the wife’s part. The actress left the banner on her own volition to act in Mehboob Khan’s Mother India. Presumably, the showman was becoming far too possessive, she wanted to strike out.

The breaking point for Krishna Raj Kapoor came with the Raj Kapoor-Vyjayanthimala affair in the course of filming on the overseas locations for Sangam. Whispers about the liaison reached a crescendo point. With her children, Krishna moved out of the R.K. Cottage in Chembur to a suite at the then-Natraj Hotel on Marine Drive. No acrimonious statements, no arguments. Enough was enough.

Inevitably, the Vyjayanthimala chapter came to an end. The R.K children were back where they belonged: home. Other R.K. heroines, Padmini and Zeenat Aman, were linked with Raj Kapoor, transiently. It was the wife who became the irreplaceable Lady in White, an imagery associated with the showman who often showcased his heroines in spotless white costumes.

Krishna Raj Kapoor’s style was timelessly elegant. She would be seen most often in understated embroidered white and pastel shaded organza, chiffon and georgette ensembles. A string of pearls would be supplemented on festive occasions with diamonds. Right till advanced age prevented hours-long, traffic-clogged car rides, she would travel from Chembur to Kemp’s Corner in South Mumbai to get her hair coiffed by Ray George Stevenson of the six-decades-old Raechelle salon.


She allowed herself a few pleasures, like hosting a game of cards regularly at the R.K. Cottage. Her circle of friends included her sister Uma Chopra (wife of Prem Chopra), Shukla Kumar (wife of Rajendra Kumar), Salma Khan (wife of Salim Khan), Nirmal Kapoor (mother of Anil Kapoor) and Munni Dhawan.

Unlike quite a few star wives she didn’t interfere with R.K.’s creative process, keeping out of story, music and edit sessions, but ensuring that the bar and kitchen were kept open for the filmmaker’s collaborators around the clock.

Above all, the paramount joy in her life was to see her sons and grandchildren evolve in their careers. For instance, she had jetted off to Lake Placid in the U.S. to wait every evening for Rishi Kapoor to return to the unit hotel from the shoot of Aa Ab Laut Chalen. She’d ask, “Hope it all went off smoothly?” and if the first-time director wouldn’t answer, she’d say calmly, “Don’t worry, tomorrow all will go well.” This, in fact, was her credo.

Grandchildren Ranbir and Riddhima adored her. Although she had to travel in a wheelchair, she was at the centre of the celebrations of Neetu Singh Kapoor’s 60th birthday in Paris earlier this year.

You can detect the same look in the eyes, be it in the photographs of her as a young woman, as a resilient widow when Raj Kapoor passed away 30 years ago, or as a loving grandmother on Instagram.

The movies, star wives, relationships and tolerance levels have kept altering dramatically over time. That look of tenderness — with a hint of melancholia — in Krishna Raj Kapoor’s eyes never did.

Krishna Raj Kapoor died following a cardiac arrest early on Monday
Renuka Vyavahare (BOMBAY TIMES; October 2, 2018)

Krishna Raj Kapoor, wife of the legendary actor-filmmaker Raj Kapoor, and the First Lady and matriarch of Bollywood royalty — The Kapoors — passed away on Monday. She was 88 and died of cardiac arrest. Her eldest son Randhir Kapoor told BT, “My mother passed away around 5 am today (Monday) due to cardiac arrest. Old age was another factor. We are deeply saddened by her demise.”

She breathed her last in a south Mumbai hospital and was taken to Randhir Kapoor’s Chembur residence, where family and friends paid their last respects to her. The last rites were performed at a Chembur crematorium around 5.30 pm. Tragically, Rishi Kapoor, who recently left for the US for a medical treatment, couldn’t be part of his mother’s final journey. A family member said, “He only reached the US on Monday morning. How can he get back by evening? It’s not possible.”

Recalling their Paris vacation in July this year, Riddhima Kapoor Sahni, daughter of Rishi and Neetu Kapoor, told BT, “Our last holiday with daadi (Krishna ji) was most memorable and she did whatever was on her wish list. We made sure that she had a great time. We will miss her a lot.”

Neetu Kapoor, too, lauded the spirit of her mother-in-law, who was elegance personified. Sharing her picture in an Instagram post a while ago, Neetu wrote, “She’s the one who teaches you the way to live. Age does not stop her from doing anything.”

People from the fraternity gathered at the Kapoors’ residence in Chembur on Monday to pay their last respect and offer condolences to the family.

Karan Johar wrote a touching tribute for her on Instagram. He said, “If there is an embodiment of grace, elegance, dignity and strength, it’s Krishna aunty. She will always be the kindest, warmest and most generous soul I have ever known.”

DNA (February 13, 2018)

The Kapoors, it seems, will be celebrating for two nights back-to-back. On February 14, the three brothers — Randhir, Rishi and Rajiv — will be at a formal function that has been organised to confer the Raj Kapoor Award for Excellence in Cinema.

Then, on the night of February 15, the Kapoor clan will assemble at Deonar House, Chembur, to ring in Dabboo’s 71st birthday. A source informs, “As is the custom, daughters Karisma Kapoor and Kareena Kapoor Khan will play hosts along with their mother Babita.”

Also present at the do will be the matriarch of the Kapoor khandaan, Krishna Raj Kapoor. Rishi and Neetu Kapoor are expected to attend, as are the younger Kapoor siblings, Rajiv Kapoor and Rima Jain. Saif Ali Khan will also raise a toast to his father-in-law. Ranbir Kapoor, who is in Bulgaria to shoot for Ayan Mukerji’s Brahmastra, will clearly be missing in action.