Filmmaker Anurag Basu’s battle with blood cancer started in 2004, when he was told he only has a few weeks left to live.

On World Cancer Day today, the 54-year-old shares how he gave himself ‘targets’ to achieve on his way to recovery: “It started with me wanting to see my unborn daughter’s face when my wife Tani was pregnant. Then it was to walk and touch a stool in the room.”

Anurag emphasizes that awareness is of utmost importance. “Even today, when someone in the family is diagnosed with it, we try to hide it, and not tell others. Jab tak aware nahin karenge, tab tak early diagnosis bhi nahin hoga,” he says, adding, “Life doesn’t get over if you are diagnosed with cancer. You should treat it like common cold... Isiliye main apne cancer ke baare mein khulke bolta hoon.”

Anurag Basu’s next starring Kartik Aaryan found itself in the middle of drama recently as rumours suggested that Triptii Dimri was removed from the film. There were reports that this was because ‘her image’ didn’t suit the role, after a string of bold roles.

Anurag clarifies to us, “Image was not the reason. I’m the last person to judge an actor on the basis of characters they play onscreen. Aashiqui was not even the story anymore... I don’t know the source of these stories.”

He cited dates as being the issue. “Triptii is shooting for a film with Vishal Bhardwaj, and my film goes on floors this month, too. Triptii is still my best friend,” he says, adding, “I don’t know what the film is called right now, the shoot starts this month. We haven’t finalized the female lead, it’ll be announced in a week.”

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Mallika Sherawat always has a no-holds-barred approach to answering questions. And that’s why the actor doesn’t hesitate to admit that the existence of casting couch did impact her career in the Indian film industry. “All the A-lister heroes refused to work with me, because I wouldn’t compromise,” she reveals.

Elaborating further, she adds, “It’s very simple — they like actresses who they can control and who will compromise with them. I am not that, my personality isn’t that. I didn’t want to subject myself to someone’s whims and fancies,” says the 45-year-old, most recently seen in the film RK/RKay.

We probe her further to clarify what she means by compromise, and she replies, “Sit, stand, anything. If the hero calls you at 3 am and says, ‘Come to my house’, you have to go, if you are in that circle and if you are doing that film. If you don’t go, then you are out of the film.”

Sherawat is best known for her breakout role in Murder (2004), but over the years, she cut down on the number of Hindi films. When we ask her the reason, she says, “I tried to do my best. I tried to find good roles. I made some mistakes, like all of us do. Some roles were good, some not so good. It is part of an actor’s journey, but overall, it’s been fantastic.”

The actor went on to do international projects, such as The Myth (2005), Hisss (2010), Politics of Love (2011) and Time Raiders (2016). “I am from Haryana.. I got to do Murder, which was so popular that Jackie Chan (actor-filmmaker) cast me in his film! I met the then US President Barack Obama twice,” she remarks, reflecting on her almost two decades in cinema, and seems happy with the opportunities that came her way.

After completing work on her digital show here, Mallika Sherawat left for Los Angeles in March for the release of her film RK/RKAY directed by Rajat Kapoor, which saw a theatrical release only in the US and Canada. In a conversation with BT, the actress spoke about how she was typecast in the industry, her efforts to break away from the typical roles she was offered and how she is excited about starting a new journey. Excerpts:

It lifted my spirit in a big way. I left India after completing the work on my web series. I feel fortunate that this film is getting a theatrical run. We all love digital platforms, but nothing beats the joy of watching a movie on the big screen. This release gave me something to look forward to in these times. The situation in LA is changing — things are opening up, indoor seating in restaurants is at 50 per cent. People are careful, things are still pretty contained. Whenever people or the media here ask me about the situation in India, my response to them is that it has been difficult for us, but we’re united as people and we will get past this, too.

I should give him credit for thinking outside the box and offering me this film. I have been a huge fan of his work and his film Ankhon Dekhi is one of my favourites. I was eager to work with him, but I guess filmmakers are hesitant to come to me with serious roles. They are not sure if I can pull off such characters. Rajat was brave enough to approach me to play this part. There is a film being shot within the movie. I’m an actress, Neha, who plays Gulabo, a character in that film. Since that story is set in the bygone era, we researched the looks of the actresses from the 1950s and 60s. It’s been so long since a character like this was crafted for a movie. To answer your question, it is difficult to imagine Rajat and me together and I am thankful to him for casting against type.

When I acted in Murder (2004), I was almost morally assassinated for those scenes I shot; I was seen as a fallen woman. Today, those things I did back then are common in our films. People’s perceptions have changed. Our cinema has changed. But even now, when I think of it, nothing beats the cinema of the 50s and 60s. We had wonderful roles for women, but we lack that beauty in our films in a big way. I have waited for years to get a role that has substance.

I was doing so many other things — I was travelling and doing web shows. I am living my life. I don’t have a backing or a boyfriend in this business who will recommend me for roles. I have made my peace with that and the fact that I will do things my way and lead my life on my own terms. It’s great to be a part of cinema.

(Cuts in…) I definitely see a big change and that’s because of streaming platforms, which have been a boon. But even there, how many films and shows do you come across that genuinely have enough and good, meaningful parts for women? Yes, it’s changing, but there are very few projects for women in comparison to what they make for men. We need more movies where women play key characters.

I want to play meaningful roles. I have missed doing that. People were approaching me for very glamorous roles, with a lot of money, but no soul in the character or meaning to it. It’s important to reinvent yourself after a period of time. If I do the same things that I have done before, you will only get vintage Mallika. RK/RKAY was the perfect opportunity to start the process of reinvention, and have people see me in a more etched-out role. It’s fulfilling to start a new adventure, a new inning. I hope people see what I can offer. In the past, people have judged me and seen me with a certain mindset. Even after working in films like Pyaar Ke Side Effects (2006) and Dasavathaaram (2008), I got typecast. As an actor, I could only choose the best from what was offered. So, here I am, starting off on a new journey, with my fingers crossed.

Offering him a chance to graduate from directing on television, to debuting in films, producer Mukesh Bhatt asked Anurag Basu in the early 2000s how much he would charge. Mukesh, well-known in Bollywood to be frugal with expenses, suggested, "Rs 7 lakh?"

Basu agreed so instantly to the number that, taken aback, and in that split sentence, Bhatt revised that Rs 7 lakh into a two-film deal! "In just two seconds, huh," Basu laughs. "But it was my stepping stone, I was just an outsider, getting to learn a lot; I would have done it for free," he says; no complaints still.

This would've been for his forgotten debut Saaya (2003, starring John Abraham, Tara Sharma). Having delivered a box-office dud, the sets for Basu's second film had also been mounted, when he had stopped showing up at the office of Vishesh Films (run by brothers Mukesh and Mahesh Bhatt). He told the producer, he'd "lost confidence" in the film they were about to shoot/start in a few days.

But there was a half-constructed set, paid for, while Vishesh Films were already reeling under a string of flops. "Ghuma phira ke", Basu narrated an idea around what Mukesh had suggested. Driving back home, he found actor Kashmera Shah sitting at the Barista coffee shop in Lokhandwala. He stopped to ask if she'd dance for a song, which Anu Malik composed in a couple of days.

They utilised that set for a track, Dil ko hazaar baar roka, and carried on with another film altogether. Which was? Murder (2004). It gave Basu tremendous box-office cred. The film went on to collect Rs 75 crore. And Basu received? Rs 3.5 lakh - second tranche of his two-movie deal - making him perhaps the best directorial ROI for a producer, in the history of Hindi films!

Male audiences across North India lined up to catch the skin-fest Murder - evidently inspired by Adrian Lyne's Unfaithful (2002) - mainly to ogle at Mallika Sherawat. It's Emraan Hashmi, the male lead, who became the single-screen sensation: "He became a rage!"

Every producer at the time, top ones included, had a DVD of a sleazy Hollywood film that they wanted Basu to convert into a Hindi movie! Murder itself belonged to a B-movie genre (that subsequently became a franchise).

How Basu elevated it still is with a certain level of soft lighting and warm aesthetics: "Aesthetics are in-built, you cannot change it. It's the way you see things. I used to also shoot television like that," he says.

In fact, you can notice even more of that - surely the film industry did - in Basu's Gangster (2006), a musical drama, loosely based on underworld don Abu Salem and his moll, '90s starlet Monica Bedi's escapades. Who became the star from that movie? Debutant Kangana Ranaut.

"Of the 20-25 girls we auditioned for the part, her face just stuck in my head - there was something unique about her," Basu recalls. Did he foresee her success? "In the beginning, she needed guidance for everything. But she is a really fast learner. I have seen her growth during the filming of Gangster itself."

What about her public persona, as the relentless online troll, if you may? Did he see this coming? "Not really. We usually don't meet, but whenever we do, this [public] persona is not the Kangana I [know] personally. So I think there are two Kanganas. Beech wali [the other one] I don't understand."

Basu, 46, Bengali boy from Bhilai, moved to Bombay to pursue a graduation degree in physics, and look around for work in the entertainment industry alongside. Lives of the young in the steel township he comes from are chiefly centred on cracking medical and engineering exams. He got exposed to story-telling and performance arts, because of the theatre group that his father ran as a hobby. And they'd travel with plays at amateur theatre competitions across India.

In the sense of Bollywood, Basu belongs to a productive class of the early '90s actors/filmmakers, from various parts of India, looking to build a career in showbiz, and who gradually took over Bollywood's reins later.

He started out as a 22-year-old assistant allowed to direct a scene in the popular television show Tara - putting his foot down among veteran actors, so they took him seriously, which was becoming an issue. He exited TV about a decade after, as the highest paid director: "I used to make as much from a month of TV, as I did from my first film."

There are also the common stories of doing producers' rounds, hanging around Prithvi in Juhu, approaching Shyam Benegal, Sriram Raghavan to assist. Also, accidentally, dancing behind Mithun Chakraborty, as the hero's friend, in a film called Dalaal (1993) - because the director was Bengali (Partho Ghosh), and they were looking for a bilingual Bengali assistant to help communicate at an outdoor location!

There is a scene in Vikramaditya Motwane's film AK vs AK (2020), where the self-referenced protagonist, director Anurag Kashyap, is casually referred to as Anurag Basu. This is partly true in the reverse as well, as it turns out, since Basu would get messages meant for Kashyap back when there were pagers for communication (or the lack of it).

In fact, they have a lot more in common, I discover, during this conversation, including Benegal, Raghavan, Prithvi, a play that both were meant to do for Makarand Deshpande. And, inevitably, stories around the adorable old miser Mukesh Bhatt!

Where similarities between Kashyap and Basu end is, of course, in their cinematic worldview. Even a gun-toting thriller with dames and dons, Ludo (2020), in Basu's hands, turns into a joyously musical carnival of atrangi/colourful/shiny characters! His films are more fantastical in their approach, yet experimental in their own right. While it may not seem so, he says, they are actually drawn from reality.

The semi-silent musical Barfi, he reveals, is based on a real-life girl Razia (played by Priyanka Chopra, and who she actually met later), and a boy with hearing impairment called Murtaza (that was Ranbir Kapoor).

Basu knew these two from a special school in Goregaon, which had a branch near his Andheri office. He had locked Barfi's script, the sleeper super-hit of 2012, at the same time as he'd finished writing Super 30, based on Bihari math wiz Anand Kumar, that later got made with Hrithik Roshan, directed by Vikas Bahl.

Likewise, the lead character (played by Ranbir) in the full-blast, theme-park adventure Jagga Jasoos (2017), of a young man who stammers, but not when he sings, is essentially Basu's long-time music collaborator, Pritam!

Katrina Kaif's character in the same movie, he says, is wholly modelled on his clumsy wife Tani: "Calamity Jane, that's her. She could be holding a cup, and be left with just the handle. Lots of stuff that happens [to Katrina] in the film has actually happened before me in real life with Tani."

Calamity is also how Jagga Jasoos got blasted as, by a wide section of the film industry, upon release - given how long it took to make it in the first place (roughly over four years). "Yeah, too long, actually," Basu admits. "We could have finished a year before. There is not a single thing I can pinpoint [for what went wrong]. Ranbir [the lead] was shooting and promoting four films [Besharam, Bombay Velvet, Roy, Ae Dil Hai Mushkil] during this time. I could have put my foot down and requested him not to. But then, Pritam also wanted time to make music. I didn't know where to balance. Even after all this time, we were rushing with post-production, five months before release!"

Then there was the story from Jagga Jasoos sets about veteran actor Govinda being hired, he'd even shot, and then was fired: "Govinda ji did come with us. With such delays already with the shoot, [there was confusion] if Govinda ji is coming on the set, or is he cancelling the flight, or is he taking the fight, or are we cancelling shoot? It was so unpredictable. I couldn't have taken that stress, yaar. We were shooting outdoor in South Africa, everything was lined up. I just had to [let go of him]."

Not that Basu isn't used to this level of stress - more so, a barrage of take-downs, post the release of a film. The biggest case study in his career might well be Kites (2010), a hugely ambitious trans-Atlantic release, headlined by Hrithik Roshan, with the Mexican tele-novella star Barbara Mori in the female lead.

Kites opened to theatres in India with desis wondering what language the film they had walked into was in - English, Spanish; or Hindi? The budgets clearly didn't match the public response to this immensely stylised romantic thriller.

Basu himself felt as lost during the making of Kites, he remembers, as the audiences did after its release: "Take a film like Gangster. I wanted to shoot in Korea. I asked my producer [Mukesh Bhatt] if I could. He'd be like, 'Here's Rs 3 crore - finish the film within it. Now I don't care if you go to Honolulu, or anywhere else.' So, I knew my budget; production was in my hands. That's what I was used to. With Kites, it wasn't like that. I was just going there and directing. And we would discuss how we are going to execute [the scenes]. I was not thinking of market, returns… It started out as a small, indie [film]. It was taking its shape, with four or five people making decisions. Also my vision and [producer] Rakesh ji's [Roshan] were separate. Eventually, yeh naa idhar ka raha, naa udhar ka [it belonged to neither an international nor a local audience]."

Which isn't to tone down Basu's own reputation, mostly suggested warmly by his colleagues, of him revelling in the chaos of filmmaking - deriving magic from the spontaneity of a moment, rather than over-planning. While this may cause major heartburn, if the money involved is massive, it has surprisingly served him well in the mainstream.

Actors who've worked with him often speak about showing up on the set, with little idea of what they're meant to do. The scene develops as they go along. This can be a scary process, yes. It hasn't stopped him from attracting some of the top Bollywood stars around. Case in point is Ludo (2020), with more bona fide movie-industry leads (Rajkummar Rao, Abhishek Bachchan, Aditya Roy Kapur, Pankaj Tripathi, et al) than you can fit into two-and-half hours, without each seeming like cameos.

"I was not like this when doing television. This process of mine started somewhere during the making of Gangster. Kangana was new. Shiney [Ahuja] used to come over-prepared. There used to be a struggle to get the performance right. Too many retakes. Also, when I started wearing the hat of writer, director and producer [with Life In A Metro], I didn't have to deliver a script to anyone." The key reason for playing it by ear, he believes, is that "actors don't usually get the full arc of a film." It's better if they live in the moment.

"Also, I don't commit to a scene till the last moment. In [Life In A] Metro, for example, there is a scene where Kay Kay [Menon] and Shilpa [Shetty] confess about cheating on each other. She talks about Shiney [Ahuja]. I was staging the scene, with Shilpa and an assistant, who's also an actor. And there's a dialogue that just slipped off the tongue; Kay Kay asks, 'Bachcha toh mera hai na?' [I'm the kid's dad, right?] That wasn't there in the script. It appeared in the heat of the moment on the set. I thrive on that actually."

Which is also similar to how Basu winged it with Life In A Metro (2007) in the first place. He had only written the script until interval point, when he met (then) UTV's head honcho Ronnie Screwvala for a narration. To adequately fill time, and keep Screwvala and others sufficiently entertained, he got composer-friend Pritam to tag along, and play music all through the narration. The script got sold, while he was halfway into fleshing it out!

Everybody calls Basu, Dada (for elder brother), in Bollywood. As Bengali adults are affectionately named - regardless of their age. Director Basu Chatterjee was Basu Da even to millennials; he died at 93. A well-known Bengali trait with Basu is actually his penchant for the adda (fun chat), as I can sense, while he generally eases into talking about his life, with a gentleness/lightness of touch that often eludes the successful/self-aware.

As a person/artiste, he finds himself connecting the most with the other great Bengali, Kishore Da - Kishore Kumar: "Every time I read about him, I realise, arre, he thinks like me - his madness, his world, it is fascinating." Basu has been sitting on the draft of a Kishore Kumar biopic for years, determined to make it. It hasn't worked out, yet. "It will be made by me, promise, very soon," he says.

Like Kishore Da, Basu is also a polymath of sorts. You can gauge that from his last movie, the mad, mad Ludo, that dropped on Netflix in November. He was the film's cinematographer, writer, director, producer, along with playing the role of the traditional sutradhar (narrator) on screen. This was one of the early movies to finish shoot while the pandemic was still on. Surely they would've taken adequate precautions shooting the final scenes. Although having sanitiser on set and shooting with a mask on isn't novel for Basu.

Shortly after the success of Murder, he was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. Doctors gave him a few weeks, max: "It just happened too quickly. One day I just saw my reflection, and I didn't know this is what I was looking like - the internal bleeding was happening, buckets of blood going out. I just wanted to breathe right, until I went on the ventilator for 17 days. It took a toll on my dad, actually. His health deteriorated after that. It was tough on my family."

There is a scene in Life In A Metro, where Nafisa Ali's character dies in an ambulance, in a traffic jam: "I thought this was going to happen to me, when I was being shifted from Lilavati [Hospital] to Tata [Memorial Centre]."

This was also the time Basu was in the midst of a film called Tumsa Nahin Dekha (2004, starring Hashmi, Dia Mirza). But the film, as he says, was all in his head. And he was struggling for life. Each day, he would relay instructions recorded into a dictaphone from his hospital bed, to keep the shoot going.

The treatment, of course, carried on for a couple of years: "I had become really thin; had my mask on. There were hospital bills to recover, with treatment in the ICU that had gone on for really long. There was a survival issue, with regard to money. I went to my old television colleagues at Zee and Sony, and they gave me shows to do. I had no film. So, it was back to square one. I did television for over a year."

He got on a film-set finally with Gangster: "I also had Life In A Metro to make. But decided that I may as well be with Vishesh Films at the point. [Producer] Mukesh ji used to carry a sanitiser in his bag, yell at me if I wasn't being careful. They were not greedy; they were careful about my health. They asked me to wait, and I didn't want to."

A close brush with death, one presumes, changes man forever. I ask Basu if he sees it that way - a before and after, as it were: "My rights and wrongs are the same. But I have become less cynical about things, I'm more positive."

On an observable plane, he concludes, "That is [also] when I decided to turn producer. [Life In A] Metro happened because of that. I thought, when I make movies, I should also make money. It is important to keep money for your family."

Acting, he admits, happened to him by accident. Even though he had featured in a number of commercials as a kid, there was no burning passion to grow up and become a hero. “I was all set to learn film animation graphics when I landed my first film,“ reminisces Emraan Hashmi, admitting that while he has hated attention, his son revels in it. “I like the focus to be on the character while Ayaan loves being in the spotlight. He will be a different kind of actor.“ The 38-year-old actor goes on to reveal that his seven-year-old son regularly takes part in dance performances and even joined a drama class and was on stage three months ago. “I won't push him but if he wants to act tomorrow, he'll have my support and guidance. For now he's exploring many things, including Capoeira, a marital art form,“ the proud papa smiles.

Meanwhile, Emraan is gearing up for the release of Baadshaho set in the '70s which he describes as the 'glory days of cinema'. “There wasn't so much of media glare then and only one TV channel, Doordarshan, so people were hungry to watch movies in theatres. I'd have loved being an actor then,“ he says. “I grew up on Amitabh Bachchan starrers and have watched Sholay 40-50 times. I'd have loved to be directed by Ramesh Sippy. I love Deewar and Trishul too and Srideviji's films. And then there's Mahesh Bhatt, I was blown away by his Saaransh.“

Among his own films, he loved the dialoguebaazi and larger-than-life characters of Once Upon a Time in Mumbaai and The Dirty Picture. “It's important to take the audience on a journey, show them a world that's far removed from theirs, yet fascinating. Many of our youngsters are in the dark about the Emergency and Baadshaho reveals to them a part of our history in the format of an entertaining film,“ he asserts.

So, has he locked lips with leading lady Esha Gupta in this soon-to-release flick? The 'serial kisser' takes you by surprise by saying he hasn't. “I'm not shying away from my image but it amuses me that while I may play a variety of characters, the moment a kiss comes, two hours of work is forgotten,“ he grouses, but is quick to add that as love is an important aspect of our cinema, he's not averse to the occasional lip lock but argues that it doesn't have the shock value it did 13 years ago during Murder.

Today, Emraan is not open to taking the Murder and Raaz franchises forward, pointing out that though they contributed hugely to his success, he's not the same person today and audience's tastes has changed too. “Another franchise would be great, Murder and Raaz can be taken ahead but with a younger cast,“ he shrugs. Buzz is, there was a fall out with director Vikram Bhatt during Raaz Reboot. “Not true. The equation is the same as before, there is no bad blood at all,“ he dismisses.

What was the equation like with Ajay Devgn and Vidyut Jammwal during Baadshaho? “With Vidyut there was just one action sequence I was thrown into. I haven't done such scenes before so it was a bit daunting. With Ajay I shot for almost 50 days, and we'd hang out even after pack-up, play pool, board and card games, chat about things I can't share with you,“ he laughs.

His last few films haven't done too well. Will Baadshaho change his fortunes? “All of us live and die in hope. As an actor my job is to bring everything I have to the table. After that it's for the audience to decide if it's good or bad,“ he says, as he gears up to roll with his first production, Captain Nawab, in October. “It's a war-drama, a unique story inspired by true events and will involve a bit of army training,“ he adds, gung ho about Malvika Raaj, Karan Johar's young Poo from Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, who will be launched as his heroine. He's yet to meet her but was impressed with her audition. Admitting that as an actor one is a mere participant but involved in the entire process as a producer, he's excited for the future. “I'd want to direct too someday.“

He might come across as arrogant. Undeniably, there's self-pride, though not necessarily driven by his stardom.He doesn't care how you interpret his body language. Nor does he believe in following norms - he doesn't socialise to get work, is ignorant about competition and irreverent when it comes to his professional choices. Unapologetically real and refreshing, Emraan Hashmi calls a spade a spade. Here's what he had to tell BT about his upcoming film Baadshaho and outgrowing his serial-kisser tag. Excerpts...

You are collaborating with Milan Luthria after more than six years, your last outing together being The Dirty Picture. Previously, you guys had worked together in Once Upon A Time In Mumbaai (OUATIM). Did the fact that you were not cast in that film's sequel ever strain your ties with Milan? Also, did you discuss it before starting off on Baadshaho?
It was exciting to merely come back together. I am detached from my films and roles... you have to be. It's a director's prerogative who he casts in a film. I had enjoyed the first part and didn't even think about the sequel, neither did I bring it up with him. Milan has always given me distinct characters in all his films. He did away with the gangster film stereotypes in OUATIM. In The Dirty Picture, I was this cocky, brash South industry filmmaker, who thinks it's his way or the highway. I love such roles, which once defined the out-of-the-box space and are now considered commercial. There's a thin membrane that separates both the spaces today and Milan treads the path carefully, merging both.

After seeing the dialogue-promos, it looks like Dalia, your character in Baadshaho, is quirky, too...
I have a dialogue that says, 'Iss Dalia mein biryani ka mazaa hai.' So, as much as his name is insipid, he's entertaining. Dalia true sense mein kameena hai - he is flamboyant, devious and thinks like a thief. He's edgy, volatile and borderline paranoid. He's the prophet of doom and also a skirt-chaser, who has the tattoo of a woman on one arm and a gun on the other - that pretty much explains his space.

You have played a womaniser in many films. Have you ever analysed why such roles come to you so often?
I have no idea (smiles), perhaps there's something in my face. Right after my first film, people assumed that I'm good at grey characters. It's a tightrope walk, as such characters pose a risk of tilting to an extent where they don't deserve redemption. I find the typical good characters on screen boring; I don't see a hero's role as the most interesting part to play. I find it clichéd. There is a dark side to all of us and I'm interested in that.

In Bollywood, playing the conventional hero is a must if you want to make it to the top. So, are you saying that you are not part of the rat race?
I am not very proud of it, but I don't watch what my contemporaries are doing. My outlook towards cinema has always been different, with more Western influences. When I see the script, I don't see it as 'Yeh hero hai...' If I had been a product of the Bollywood machinery, I would have gone that way. Thankfully, I'm not. So, what seems out-of-the-box to others seems normal to me.

For close to 15 years, you held onto the tag of a serial kisser in Bollywood. Did you start feeling stifled in that image, eventually? Did that lead to a change in your role choices?
I don't know what exactly a serial kisser is. Years ago, when I was shooting in Mauritius, I bought a T-shirt which had 'Serial Kisser' written on it. Around that time, I had played bold roles in four films in a row. While it was normal for me, it wasn't for a lot of others. People were noticing that I was kissing so many women on screen. And then, when I made a joke out of that tee, it got stretched too far. I've never associated myself with the serial-kisser image. It was blown out of proportion.

But you cannot deny that it became difficult for people to accept you in films like Azhar, where the sex and kissing scenes were not as amplified as, let's say, they were in the Bhatt camp's movies...
We have a prefixed notion of what the audience wants. After one of those many erotica thrillers that got me the serial kisser label, I reached a saturation point and decided to do something different, which drove me to do movies like Awarapan, Jannat, Shanghai, OUATIM and Ghanchakkar. However, all throughout, people either underlined the fact that the raunchy scenes were there, or highlighted their absence. I found the latter amusing. After a point, it was stifling and boring to play up to that perceived image. Today, I don't even think about the tag because I moved on from it 10 years ago. It's lost its punch. So, I don't think that was the reason people thumbed Azhar down. It was made well, but there was a perception that people had of the story and what they saw didn't meet that. Ours wasn't the Azhar they knew.

You may have moved on, but the tag continues to be a part of your image. Your uncle, filmmaker Mahesh Bhatt, had said on a chat show that people flocked to theatres to see you lock lips...
That trick made sense at one point, but now, the audience wants something new. Personal and professional experiences have changed me, though not many acknowledge it. Today, it is disastrous for any actor to go back to his safety net. The terrain has changed. The last two years have made out-of-the-box the new commercial. These are also scary times because the web and social media are on an over drive and are unforgiving. People are less lenient towards average and mediocre films, which wasn't the case a decade ago. Cinema was the sole source of entertainment then, but now, it has stiff competition from television, games, the web and social media. Earlier, word about a film didn't trickle in for a week at least. Today, a bad review at the noon show can have your night show cancelled.

Do you mean to say that you have really kissed the Murder and Raaz franchises goodbye?
Yes, I have kissed those franchises goodbye, but I thank those films for helping me get this far. I'm now doing what I always wanted to do. If I return to that space now, it will be the undoing of the brand; I will look tentative and disinterested. These franchises need new actors to take them forward.

Today, we are seeing strong acceptance for women-centric cinema, where women play meaty, strong characters. In retrospect, do you feel that some of those franchises did objectify women?
Women were objectified? I was also objectified in those films. It's just the zone you are grappling with. After films like OUATIM, I could have chosen big-budget, hero-driven films, but I opted for The Dirty Picture, which was woman-centric. As an actor, I don't see women as objects; they have always been central to the plot in all my films. Heroines are shining in the films being driven by them today. I am not among those male actors who feel insecure about women-centric films.

I remember shooting my first bold song from Murder, 'Bheegey Honth Tere', in Bangkok. It was set in several locations, but one of them was particularly amusing. Mallika Sherawat and I were shooting on the top of a parapet of a seven-storey building. After having exhausted every variation and situation that led to the numerous kisses in the song, Anurag Basu wanted us to make out on the ledge of that building! I kept teasing him about how he was making us play out his fantasies on celluloid. So at sundown, when the shooting lights came on, the entire city block came to a halt on the street as they watched us shoot! I'm sure they would have been amused watching two entangled bodies under a sheet snogging away for the camera! Some people have the general misconception that I enjoy shooting erotic scenes. It's really not that easy. I'm always conscious before I pucker up. It's one thing to do it in the confines of your room with your own partner, but quite another to be playing it out on a set in front of a whole crew scrutinizing your every move and a director who gives you instructions on how to go about it. If anyone thinks it's their dream job, they're sadly mistaken. The sexy kiss on screen seems like the unsexiest thing off screen.

Most of the time there is awkward teeth clanking with the director yelling, 'Show your face, Emi. Your face is getting covered by your hair.' And the most irritating one, 'Guys, your make-up is all over the sheets. We will have to change them. Let's break for lunch.' I mean, sure, I get to kiss these beautiful women and all of that... but it does get boring. Either ways, it's a burden I bear and will continue to do so...willingly. And like it or not, after more than a hundred and fifty kisses (I've lost count), it's not (I've lost count), it's not easy to dethrone me as the Kissing King or Chumban Devta as a crowd that had gathered for one of my film shoots in Delhi started shouting. Spider Man says it best: It is my gift and it is my curse.

With great candour, Emraan Hashmi admits he'd like to rob a bank were he to become invisible. With greater candour, he admits there might be something about his face that makes filmmakers repeatedly cast him as a law-breaking conman. In a chat with us during his recent visit to our office with co-star Amyra Dastur, the Mr X actor says he's hoping people appreciate the 'shareef ' side of him in upcoming films. Excerpts from the conversation:

How hard was it shooting the `invisible' scenes in Mr X with one person absent, especially for you, Amyra?
Amyra: There was no one. Nothing. Air. And water! Which I choked on - it was quite funny. In (the filming of the song) Tu Jo Hai - that (the invisible man) is completely CG. There was no one there, no green suit or anything. They gave me a point, like a red tape, in the water tank, and we'd planned out the shot - I'd swim down, look at the mark, close my eyes and get into the kiss. When that happened for the first time, I just glugged back a lot of water, and when I came up, I was coughing and you could see water coming out of my nose. It was really ... beautiful shot though - we got it right when I figured out how to hold my breath properly .

Was it excessively hard to be responding to an absence?
Amyra: It was really hard because this isn't generically acting, it's reacting. It's easier when - especially during an angry scene - it's easier to have him (Emraan) yelling back at me. That way my reaction becomes more real. Rather than just yelling at no one, we'd have the AD (assistant director) read out his lines and create the same kind of emotion. But each time, we shot with Emraan first, so at least I knew how high I have to go to get that same kind of feeling.

How about you, Emraan? Did they hook you up to electrodes?
Amyra: Oh, he wore the green suit once and then decided to never do it again!
Emraan: No, I come and go, because the concept is that he's seen in blue light, neon light, in direct sunlight, so many of the sequences were shot with me. But then, in portions where I'm not supposed to be there in the shadows, there was another person, a double, in a green suit. I didn't have to be in it. I wore the suit once to make Amyra happy, she wanted to have some laughs...
Amyra: I didn't want anyone else to carry me (in a sequence where the invisible man is carrying her in his arms).
Emraan: Some of the sequences, yes, where I was not there for, like, 30 seconds, were shot completely with the guy in the green suit, and then I could go shopping in Cape Town or go somewhere for dinner or do my own thing. It's good, actually, to do a film where you're invisible.

In real life, if you were to be invisible, what would you like to do?
Emraan: Unethical things or ethical things? I'll start with the unethical things. Some of them I can't talk about - the mind is, er, going into a lot of areas - but rob a bank, that's something I've always wanted to do, it's been my childhood dream. I've thought about it a lot, I've planned it all out in my head, but it hasn't happened. Robbing Mukeshji (Mukesh Bhatt, his uncle and the producer of Mr X) would also be fun, but there's probably more money in the bank. The other would probably be copying in my exams in school. Then, going to places I couldn't go when I was below 18 - sometimes abroad you can't get into clubs... and some other places also.
Amyra: I'd slap a couple of people I've been meaning to slap for a while - haven't you dreamed of slapping that one person without getting caught? I'd spy on a couple of people too.

The film reminds one a lot of Mr India...
Emraan: The similarity starts and ends with the invisibility. There's nothing else in common. I know the screenplay of Mr India - I loved it, I think Shekhar Kapur made a fantastic film. It's very well done, very high-concept for its time. As a kid, I saw it at least 15 times. But the story is completely different. This character is slightly darker. He's not the quintessential superhero. I wouldn't really put it into that zone in this first film. And you can see him (Mr India) in red light - our thing is slightly different. But the love story and the entire theme is different.

You've said you want your son to watch this film. No matter how complicated or dark a character Mr X is, there must be something positive at the end of his journey, or you wouldn't show it to your son...
Emraan: Yes. Every film has to have - especially if it's for a family audience, kids - it has to have a positive end. It has to sum up - morally, it has to somewhere seem right and there has to be some redemption for the character. For this character also, there is redemption, you realise his point of view. You might not see his point of view through the film, because if I had to make an observation and connect any other superhero film, they still don't go into the darker zone. In Spiderman, there is the Black Spiderman who is the villain. Mr X is that character, he is the guy who wouldn't mind putting a bullet into someone's head. But that changes because of love. He becomes a cold-blooded murderer, but there's still a side of him that is human, that still loves the woman.

Why should one go and see Mr X?
Emraan: I think for the experience. I have grown up watching films like Chhota Chetan, which was this great 3D experience with spectacular VFX. There's the invisible man, it's high-concept. These things I guess are a more immersive experience. Even if it's not in 3D, you will love the journey of this invisible man. You will realise it when you see a film like this, the way he gets back at these people when he's invisible is a lot of fun. Apart from that, another philosophical take like any other superhero film is that it's the story of a phoenix, a person who overcomes his limitations. His hurdle is invisibility in the beginning, he lives with the trauma. He doesn't shrug it away, he rises above the moment and becomes a hero at the end of it. Narrative-wise, it is a very gripping story.

Murder's done 11 years this year, which means you are about as old as that in the industry. Are you where you wanted to be in 11 years?
Emraan: You know, I don't know how people answer (this). I will be honest. For me, it's a struggle. You are just happy to get the next film or you are happy your film is a hit. You just make the most of it and move on to the next thing. Obviously, somewhere there's this very vague idea of where we kind of want to see our life. But it's a blurry picture. In the beginning, it was just getting the stuff you want and not thinking too much about it, just doing it. But then you start realising, I have done this. Let's try something else. There are small goals that you set for yourself as an actor every year, every two years, every five years, those keep changing. Now the goal for me would be reinvention. Post Mr X, in Hamari Adhuri Kahani, in Azhar, hopefully you will see an Emraan that you have never seen before in the 10 years you have seen me.

In this journey, have you ever thought that people prefer to see you as a bad guy, or a naughty guy?
Emraan: All the time! But the thing is, the audience doesn't know what they want till you give it to them. They'll keep thinking that this is what they want till suddenly the right film at the right time comes along, and they wake up and say, 'Oh! We've never seen him this way, and we like this also', I am waiting for that to happen. They've seen me in these devious characters. He's always the bad guy who breaks the law. There's something in my face that says criminal, devil, will-break-the-law, drug dealer, or gun runner, or bookie (laughs). I won't talk about this right now, but there's this shareef guy that you will see soon this year. It'll probably be a victory on my part if I play that convincingly. Mr X is still in the grey zone. It has technical wizardry and VFX, but he's still an outlaw kinda guy.

Amyra, why did you choose this as your second Hindi film?
Amyra: In Issaq, I was playing a Banarasi village girl, and here I am playing a sort of cold-hearted girl. It's completely different and I wanted to show some versatility. The good thing is that this will prevent me from getting stereotyped in my career and that is exactly what I want.

It has been over 12 years since you made your entry into Bollywood music with Ab Ke Baras. Tell us about your journey since then. Did you have to struggle because of your unusual voice?
Ab ke Baras was not really the film that gave me a break though it did create a stir within the industry and I thank Anu Malik for that opportunity. I got my first big break in four songs for Uuf Kya Jaadoo Mohabbat Hai, thanks to Rajat Barjatya, composer Sandesh Shandilya and lyricist Mehboob sahab. Saathiya released before it and my song Oh Humdum Suniyo Re became a chart-topper thanks AR Rahman's composition and the legendary Gulzar sahab's lyrics. I didn't sound like any of the legendary voices we had in Hindi films till then. I had a voice and style of my own and that seemed to work against me when I got into the industry. I didn't have a traditional playback voice, some said, when I auditioned and it was difficult for me to understand why I needed to sound like someone else to be successful.

Who were your strongest supporters?
My strongest supporters were my parents who encouraged me to sing at a time when satellite television hadn't come to India. Playback singer Poornima (Sushma Shrestha) is another. She heard me at a college festival and then introduced me to Anand Milind, Leslie Lewis, Louis Banks and Anu Malik. Malik and Mukesh Bhatt gave me Bheegey Hont Tere (Murder). Music director Rajat Dholakia is another person who has supported me throughout my career. Pritam has made two versions of Tu Hi Toh Hai (Holiday — A Soldier Is Never Off Duty), one with you and the promo version with Benny Dayal.

Interestingly, both of you sound a lot like each other. Was that deliberate?
I am surprised you say that because both of us are very different stylistically. I sang the television promo version and the theatrical version of Tu Hi Toh Hai. Knowing Pritam, he may have wanted to see how Benny would interpret the same song and would've liked what he heard and therefore kept both the versions on the soundtrack so that the listener may hear two completely different versions of the same melody.

You've sung many soundtrack highlights. Do composers specifically offer you these songs or do you look out for them?
I always sing from my heart. I know no other way. Personally, I love singing ballads and songs in the soul, funk and rock pop genres. My music director friends often tell me they compose especially for me as opposed to making me sing a generic song.

What's it like to be married to another singer?
Life is beautiful anyway. It gets even better when you are married to a like-minded person and your partner is from the same profession. I feel blessed that my wife (Gayatri Iyer) is a singer.

You consider Ranjit Barot your mentor. How did that happen?
Ranjit is largely responsible for who I am today. Poornima didi - who is also his cousin - introduced us. Ranjit had heard my voice on TV and radio. Once he endorsed my singing, the whole industry started to work with me. He has been a life-changer for me and I will always be indebted to him for that.
We now meet a couple of times a year over lunch and dinner and lots of good music, of course, besides work whenever the opportunity arises. With him around, I believe I can sing anything required of me.
That is the kind of confidence he instils in the people he puts his faith in. As Rahman says that every composer should get a Mani Ratman like he did, I'd say, every budding singer should get a Ranjit Barot!

You've sung for a variety of films down South. How different is the music industry there vis-à-vis Bollywood?
Bollywood is flashy, the South is more real, down to earth and disciplined.

A number of singers are turning music directors today. Would you consider composing filmi soundtracks?
It's a natural progression for a singer to become a lyricist and composer. Look at the West where almost everybody sings their own compositions unlike our industry where all the three are separate.

Your song Channa Ve is still played at weddings. What do you think of the Indipop scene right now?
It's a great time for the Indipop and non-film music scene with the variety of talent we have today. Unfortunately, there aren't any independent record labels pumping money into private albums. I hope the revenue model sees the light of day soon. Fingers crossed!

As Indian audiences gear up for Mastram, we take a look at how erotica in our films is slowly coming of age

Urmimala Banerjee (MID-DAY; March 2, 2014)