The legacy of late actor Smita Patil lives on through her films, and her son, actor Prateik Babbar, would love nothing more than to carry it on. On her birth anniversary today, Babbar, who is gun-shy about public appearances, will be seen cutting a cake amid fans of his mum as well as the paparazzi. He also plans to commemorate the day with a charity that takes in and feeds stray animals. 

“I want to get their (paparazzi) blessings. She was always loved and I want to carry forward that emotion. No one can forget who Smita Patil was. Recently, on Mr (Amitabh) Bachchan’s birthday (October 11), there were screenings of his films. Aaj Rapat Jaye To (a song featuring Bachchan and Patil from Namak Halaal; 1982), got the most whistles and applause. So many people shared the videos from the theatre,” Babbar shares. 

Patil died from complications during childbirth and would have been 67 today. Babbar says, “Her birth and death anniversaries are two extremely vulnerable days for me. However, I feel blessed and humbled with all the wishes that pour in. I think about her all day and I feel lost, but there’s always lots of love.”

To celebrate Amitabh Bachchan’s 80th birthday, the Film Heritage Foundation has curated a film festival for his fans titled – Bachchan Back To The Beginning – that will bring the superstar’s iconic films back to the big screen. The four-day film festival will be held from October 8-11 in 17 cities, with 172 showcases. Moviegoers across the country can catch Big B’s classics like Don, Kaala Patthar, Kaalia, Kabhie Kabhie and Amar Akbar Anthony in theatres.

Shivendra Singh Dungarpur, Director, Film Heritage Foundation, says, “Growing up, I was the biggest Amitabh Bachchan fan. I used to break rules to watch his films in my school days. In fact, in college, I was often thrown out of class for sitting on the back benches and writing notes about his films. I am so glad that the Film Heritage Foundation is paying tribute to him on his 80th birthday with this first-of-its-kind, countrywide, four-day festival.”

A special price of Rs. 80 has been decided for each film (as a nod to his 80th b’day celebration), and those who want to watch all the films can purchase a special movie pass for Rs. 400.

Filmmaker Sriram Raghavan, who is a huge Bachchan fan, says, “Shivender Singh Dungarpur’s organisation has been doing wonderful work. Just imagine, you can watch Don, Kala Patthar and Satte Pe Satta on the big screen again! Imagine watching and listening to Pyaar Humein Kis Mod Pe Le Aaya all over again. I have grown up on those movies and I’ve seen most of them multiple times in school and college, sometimes even buying tickets in black.”

Moviegoers from Mumbai, Delhi, Kolkata, Bengaluru and Hyderabad, to Ahmedabad, Surat, Baroda, Raipur, Kanpur, Kolhapur, Prayagraj and Indore, will be able to watch these films.

Amitabh Bachchan says, “I didn’t think that I would see a day when all these films from my early career would be back on the big screen across the country. It is a remarkable initiative by the Film Heritage Foundation to showcase not just my work, but the work of my directors, fellow actors and technicians of the time, who made these films possible. It brings back an era that is gone, but not forgotten. This is why saving India’s film heritage is so important. I hope that this is just the beginning of many festivals that will celebrate the landmark films of Indian cinema (bringing them) back on the big screen.”

The FHF is also planning to curate many more such film festivals. Shivendra says, “I want producers to understand that there is a huge demand for these films and cinema lovers who never got an opportunity to watch these iconic films in theatres would love to do so. There is a need for restoration of our old films.”

It’s extremely sad that another great musician has gone. Bappi da had so much music left in him. I have great respect for him. He was like a brother to me for many years. I got the opportunity to sing a lot of songs for him like Tu Pagal Premi Awara, Lal Dupatte Wali, and my Bengali hit, Aami Kolkata Roshogulla. He was so flexible and gave us diverse songs.

He loved his work and treated all of us like his family. Whenever I went to his place, he’d offer me Bengali sweets as I loved them. His family was always affectionate. My heart goes out to them. May his soul rest in peace. These last two years have taken so many amazing musicians from us. I’m sure even the Gods are enjoying their music.

Kavita Krishnamurti, singer

---------------------

Bappi da was like family to me. I’d accompany my dad (Anjaan, late lyricist) for the sittings. Whenever he saw me, he’d remember my father. I’ve had so many associations with him over the years. In fact, he called me a month ago for a project called Pyaar Mein Thoda Twist. But I think he fell ill. I didn’t hear from him after that.

He was an intelligent and multifaceted composer. Once, director Prakash Mehra asked Bappi da to call his mother, who was a classical singer, to compose a song for Namak Halaal. She was nervous as she was not a composer. Bappi da told her he’ll give her a phrase and she can compose it like a bandish. That’s how the original tune of Pag Ghungroo Baandh was made.

He made a mark when many composers were ruling the industry. He was synonymous to disco and the genre will always be associated with him. It’s truly a huge loss to the music industry and I’ll always miss him.

Sameer Anjaan, lyricist

Music director Bappi Lahiri, who harnessed and harvested the “disco sound” to produce chartbusters in films like Disco Dancer and Namak Halaal but was equally adept in composing gentler semi-classical and folksy tunes best exemplified in the less remembered songs of Aangan Ki Kali, Apne Paraye and Aetbaar, passed away in a Mumbai hospital late Tuesday night. He was 69.

The composer-singer had been under treatment for several weeks. “He was suffering from OSA (obstructive sleep apnea) and recurrent chest infection...He succumbed to his illness at about 11:45pm,” Dr Deepak Namjoshi of Mumbai's CritiCare Asia Hospitals said in a statement.

In the 1980s, a disco track became mandatory in Hindi films after the tsunami-like success of Qurbani’s ‘Aap Jai sa Koi’ (singer: Nazia Hasan, composer: Biddu). Songs became something that you both danced and listened to. For the young and the restless, beat acquired more prominence. And the electronic synthesizer became the busiest instrument. No Bollywood composer understood, captured and expressed the new musical ecosystem like Bappi.

His dalliance with disco started with ‘Hari Om Hari’ (Pyara Dushman, inspired by Neil Sedaka/Eruption’s ‘One Way Ticket’) and ‘Rambha Ho Ho Ho’ (Armaan). Director B Subhash’s Disco Dancer became his high noon. From the title track to ‘Jimmy Jimmy’, every track in Disco Dancer was dancey and delicious. If ‘Awara Hoon’ was Hindi cinema’s major cultural export in the 1950s, ‘Jimmy Jimmy’ remains a musical ambassador even in Vladimir Putin’s Russia today. Just go to YouTube for confirmation.

----------------------------

Bappi Lahiri’s breathless foottappers and Indeevar’s nursery-rhyme lyrics (‘Char baar marenge ek baar ginenge’, Mawaali) in Southern productions defined popular film music in the 80’s. They were integral to mind-numbing entertainers whose plots could match Donald Trump’s statements for incredulousness. Jeetendra’s Himmatwala, Mawaali, Maq sad and Tohfa were all propelled by these tunes. “He was a king in Madras,” director B Subhash told this reporter some years ago.

In the 1980s, Bappi da, as many called him fondly, provided the score for an eyepopping 230 films. In 1985, he gave music to 33 movies: 30 Hindi, 2 Bengali, 1 Tamil; which means a film released every 12 days! The composer lorded over the charts even when some of the songs were copies of foreign hits and desi classics. There was an alternative side to him as well.

In Basu Chatterjee’s Apne Paraye, he surprised critics with his folksy tunes. ‘Shyam rang rangaa re’, where he employed the Bengal percussion instrument khol, has the meditative feel of a Chaitanya kirtan. ‘Gao mere mann’ carries the smell of ponds, banana leaves and 19th century Bengal.

Not many would associate him with songs such as ‘Saiyan bina ghar soona’ (Aangan Ki Kali), ‘Chaar din ki zindagi hai’ (Ek Baar Kaho) or ‘Kisi nazar ko tera’ (Aetbaar). Many of them were sung by Yesudas and Bhupendra.

Born in north Bengal’s Jalpaiguri town to musician parents, Alokesh (his original name) trained under guru Samta Prasad and was hailed as a tabla prodigy at just six. Nanha Shikari (1973) was his debut Hindi film. But the composer made a distinct impression with Chalte Chalte (1976), among his finest scores.

Amit Khanna, who wrote the lyrics, recounts how Bappi got the film. “The film director Bhisham Kohli, also Dev Anand’s nephew, was looking for a music director. He was unable to get R D Burman and Laxmikant Pyarelal. Bappi had earlier come to Navketan looking for work. And I was impressed by some of the tunes I heard. I told Bhisham, why don’t you try him? During the music session, Bappi played the ‘Chalte Chalte’ tune. I wrote the opening lines. And this led to the song,” recalled Khanna. 

Slowly, he worked his way up with hummable melodies in low budget action films such as Zakhmee, Ravikant Nagaich’s Surakksha and Wardat and the Ramsay brothers’ horror yarns (Saboot). Disco Dancer elevated his career. But when Prakash Mehra, then Bollywood’s biggest director along with Manmohan Desai, signed him for ‘Namak Halaal’, Bappi entered the super league. The music in Namak Halaal and Sharaabi (both Big B films) were worth the weight of the gold chains he fondly wore. 

Namak Halaal’s ‘Pagh ghungroo baandh’ was nearly 12 minutes long but the tune was riveting. ‘Raat baaki’, which he sang with Asha, is a standout. Sharaabi earned him his lone Filmfare award in 1985. He tasted success in the 1990s too: K C Bokadia’s Aaj Ka Arjun and David Dhawan’s Aankhen, to name just two. ‘Gori hai kalaiyan’ (Aaj Ka Arjun) topped the Binaca Geetmala in 1990.

In recent years, Bappi sang in Baaghi 3 and Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan. Last April, he had contracted Coronavirus but recovered well.

Now, the amiable and ever-smiling composer is no more. But the best of his 80s tracks remain groovy as ever. And even today, there’s no better farewell song than ‘Chalte Chalte’.

Prakash Mehra, Bappi Lahiri and Amitabh Bachchan during the making of Namak Halaal

When (director) Prakash Mehra ji and (lyricist) Anjaanji came to my studio, it was raining a lot in Mumbai. Mehra ji told me, “Bappi, can you make a song about this rain?” The lyrics had been composed by Anjaan ji, who was one of the best writers I have worked with. I made a mukhda for ‘Aaj Rapat Jaye Toh’, and when I played it for Prakash ji, he liked it so much that I didn’t even have to try another version.

Though I am credited with bringing disco to India, I also did many numbers inspired by classical ragas. ‘Aaj Rapat Jaye Toh’ was a totally Indian song. I used instruments such as santoor, violin, mandolin and the sitar and the first two helped evoke the mood of the rains. There are very few rain songs which go on to become evergreen hits, but ‘Aaj Rapat Jaye Toh’ went on to become one.

The song’s mazaa (fun) comes also from the singing and dancing. It was sung by Asha ji (Bhosle) and Kishore mama (Kumar) who added their own touches such as the arre, arre, arre in the beginning. Though I composed the song, I do my salaam to both Amit ji and Smita ji (Amitabh Bachchan and Smita Patil) for that outstanding rain dance.

Nowadays, there are fewer rain songs in Hindi films but I believe they will come back in fashion one day. On a personal note, I believe the rains have been lucky for me. I recorded my life’s most memorable song, ‘Chalte Chalte’, sung by Kishore Kumar in the 1976 film of the same name during the rains in July. Now, Namak Halaal is being remade but even if they remix this song, they can’t get Kishore Kumar’s one and only voice. The magic of ‘Aaj rapat’ can’t be copied.

My first brush with rain and a song was when I was around seven years old. My father had taken me to watch Singing In The Rain at the Odeon cinema hall in Delhi. It was his way of exposing me to music beyond the world of All India Radio and when I saw that famous sequence of Gene Kelly dancing solo with his umbrella in the rain, it blew my mind. As a kid, jumping on puddles of water was fun but something that we were strongly reprimanded for. And here I was watching an adult tapping and splashing through puddles with such rhythm and abandon. I realised that the idea of singing and dancing in the rain wasn’t just cool in my own head but somewhere far away in the world, too.

I was 16 when I first heard ‘O Sajana, Barkha Bahaar Aayi’ from the film Parakh. We didn’t have a TV at home so I had only heard it on radio until I watched the song unfurl as a visual at my neighbour’s house during Chitrahaar. I stood there transfixed that a black-and-white visual could be so colourful. Also that the rains could serve as a metaphor for a woman’s emotions. The sense of reverence, hope and childlike joy in Sadhana with her hands cupped catching rain drops — a classic Bimal Roy shot with hands resembling a womb and water drops symbolic of elixir — remains embedded in my mind as one of the most enchanting rain song moments on screen. Rain songs are usually known to be vibrant, sensuous and outward but this was an example of how subtle and inward a song about the rains could be.

The hottest woman to appear on screen for me has to be Smita Patil in ‘Aaj Rapat Jaye’ in the film Namak Halaal. An incredible song that shattered the myth of Smita Patil as the czarina of alternate cinema. The uninhibited and abashed chemistry between Amitabh Bachchan and Smita Patil — an unlikely couple to frolic in the rain — was simply joyous.

The mad kinky expressions of Kishore Kumar at his flirtatious best in ‘Ek Ladki Bheegi Bhaagi Si’ with a rain-soaked Madhubala out alone on a rainy night, remind you of all kinds of mischief that rains inspire. The rhythm of the song and the idea of having a good time without a care, sums up the beauty, wit and romance of a classic Bollywood and baarish number. Then there’s everyone’s favourite antakshari song — R for ‘Rimjhim Gire Saawan’ where you see the beautiful Mumbai landscape when the city was much emptier with two characters walking down drenched streets.

The song that changed my life was ‘Ab Ke Sawan Aise Barse’, my first ever album. I was a Delhiite at the time. The realisation of what nature and music together could do came to me on a Sunday evening at India Gate. I was out with friends when it suddenly started to pour. People stepped out of their cars to dance to ‘Ab Ke Sawan’ blaring from their car stereos. The fact that I could capture the euphoria of rain through a piece of music triggered in me a sense of responsibility to create music, not just for entertainment but to make a difference.

I heard ‘Bhaage Re Mann’ from Chameli when I had just arrived in Mumbai from Delhi. While watching the song being shot, it was almost like feeling the rain, the shivers and the earthy scent. A song brimming with hope, innocence and fresh starts. Life came full circle when the same Kareena Kapoor brought that playful energy to ‘Zoobi Doobi’, a rain song I made for 3 Idiots.

These songs are just a fraction of the kind of magic realism and fantastical moments that Indian cinema has sparked over the years thanks to the rain. The art of picturising a rain song — in all its gay abandon, innocence and sensuousness — was due to screenplay writers and directors who lived in very different times with very different associations with the rain. What romance would a young filmmaker living in Mumbai today find in the rains when you are surrounded by potholes and construction sites?

When you look out of the window, the changing urban landscape with waterlogging and traffic congestion would naturally disallow the natural thought of rain as a background for two people falling in love under an umbrella. It’s a sad tragedy of our times that I can’t recall the last time a beautiful rain song got made because psychologically everyone’s like ‘who wants to get out in the rain?’ Rampant urbanisation has robbed the cities of their rainy romance and we see its effect in music and movies too. Also, the cinematic technique has changed where filmmakers are committing less and less to songs, especially lip-syncs. Therefore a rain song on its own is a luxury and what we saw in ‘O Sajana’ with rain in the foreground is now a distant backdrop 60 years later.

How I wish that a director would use his cinematic artistry to recreate a musical Singing In The Rain moment today — with a leap here and a splash there on wet streets and puddles — and I am certain the rain song will be back. If it worked then, it will work now. There’s nothing more unifying than the feeling of breaking away, letting go and being cleansed by the rain.

— As told to Mohua Das

“What are people in cars watching a movie supposed to do during the monsoon—keep the wipers on?” This was among the milder insults tossed toward Mumbai’s first drive-in theatre before it was born in 1977. Not everyone in Bandra owned a car then and Bandra-Kurla Complex—the commercial counter-magnet to bursting South Bombay—was a mere newborn yet to be nicknamed BKC. Beyond the mouth of Mahim creek, a revolving restaurant had manifested atop a luxury hotel built on the rocks even as low-income housing promised for slum-dwellers on both sides of the Western Express Highway during the Emergency preoccupied the city’s conscience. The ’70s everyman viewed the eight-hectare-wide imminent cinema experience meant for privileged car owners with the scorn outsiders now reserve for cine dynasts. Today, a multiplex player is looking to invest in a drive-in theatre at BKC as a safe mass entertainment option.

But back then, “frivolous”, “decadent”, “criminal waste of land”, “project of the upper classes” were the expressions used by the press and the public to greet the 1,000-car monolith. Doomed to controversy from birth and fraught with villains ranging from mosquitoes to resentful hutment dwellers, the arc of the city’s first drive-in theatre in the marshy heart of Bombay is the stuff of OTT docu-dramas.

For one, the ‘bhumi pujan’ happened in 1970 at the hands of then revenue minister HG Vartak even before the commencement certificate was issued for the plans submitted in 1971 by the Indian Film Combine Limited (IFCL) — a company owned by two Gujarati men who ran drive-in theatres in Nairobi, Mombasa and Ahmedabad. An area behind Kalanagar had been leased that year by the collector of Bombay. As it was the first proposal of this type in Bombay and no rules were framed for it, the plan was kept pending. The rules finally came in 1973 and the plan was approved in 1975. The state offered the plot on lease to IFCL for a mere Rs 6 lakh a year.

Rumour had hyped the imminent BKC drive-in to be the first in India though that distinction belonged to Ahmedabad, which boasted a 700-car drive-in theatre. Soon after the theatre was inaugurated by then CM Vasantrao Patil, Janata Party volunteers staged demonstrations against the project whose construction work had been largely completed during the Emergency. “Whom is the drive-in supposed to cater to?” balked a TOI article. “Certainly not the rugged urchins who lived in the shanty towns all around the reclaimed land on which the theatre is coming up.”

The three-tier theatre housed a restaurant that could seat 1,000 people. It had an amphitheatre-like auditorium to seat around 2,000 patrons. Screenings were initially at 9pm daily. Bandra’s Neale Murray recalls getting “plastered with the boys” while watching Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau movies, and octagenarian Jayant Shetty says they took chairs along to watch the 6 pm show of ‘Muqaddar Ka Sikandar’. But mosquitoes from the marshy area and the TV and video boom of the ’80s put off many visitors from paying Rs 20-odd for a movie. Then, apart from deliberate intervals to make patrons buy dosas and samosas, the sudden hail of stones pelted by rioting workers of a political party would supply unscripted drama. At times, when the canteen staff would leave at midnight, entire reels would be omitted and hordes would start their cars not knowing how ‘Namak Halaal’ ended.

Shetty guesses it was probably the damage to property caused by drunk patrons who would steal speakers that caused the theatre’s undoing. When it failed to rake in profits, the Maker Group of Enterprises, one of the city’s biggest builders known for their clout with the government, bought the place and ran it for two decades before it shut down in the early noughties without fanfare or redemption, its end an omitted reel.

Going by the opening day collection and the total weekend number of Housefull 3, it looks certain that the film is racing to the top of all comedy films. We hear that the makers, Sajid Nadiadwala and Eros International are in celebratory mood and extremely happy with the thundering response that the film has received amongst the audiences.

This franchise film has already made history with the weekend numbers and now with the way it is going, looks like they will surpass all records ever made in any comedy film. Exhibitors reveal that the film is consistently doing extraordinarily brilliant at the cash counter! Before Housefull 3, films like Amitabh Bachchan's Namak Halaal, released in a time when data and numbers were not recorded and Salman Khan's Ready are the two films that did extremely well. Ready, which was till now the holder of the biggest comedy film ever will be passed on to Housefull 3.

Trade analysts predict that Housefull 3 will not only break all records and become the biggest comedy film, but also set extremely high benchmarks for future comedy films. In today's times, it is Housefull 3 that is raking in the moolah and steadily inching closer to the top position in the list of super successful comedy films.

A source close to the industry adds, “Collections are the most objective way in which one can assess the success of a film. And box-office collections prove beyond doubt that HF 3 is the biggest comedy so far. That it will surpass the first two in the franchise viz. Housefull and Housefull 2 is now a given after the huge weekend but it may also mean that it will surpass the total collections of Ready, another hit comedy. Namak Halaal is another successful comedy which comes to mind. Housefull 3 may well become the new comedy benchmark from now on.“

You can meet this superstar as many times, but every time you meet him, you are left struck in awe by his aura, his professionalism and his humility. As basic as it may sound, but this tallest legend of India gets his high when he knows that he has given a good shot. He is impressed by all the new talent around him and has thoroughly enjoyed working with Anurag Kashyap and Shoojit Sircar on his upcoming fictional show Yudh.
Excerpts from a conversation with the man you can only respect more and more with each passing day.

Sir, what does TV as a medium mean for you?
It is something that has been expanding ever since it has been introduced in India. We earlier had only one state channel, the Doordarshan. But now we have 800 channels. And I believe that there are applications for 300 more, perhaps, in one country the number of channels put together as that of the universe. That's one. The other thing is that the turnover of television is three times that of films, which apart from the commercial side reflects that there are a lot of people interested in watching television, which is also a medium that reaches you directly at home. Anything that is happening in the rest of the world today is now accessible to you at a press of a button on your television much like the internet. In time to come, everyone is saying that the mobile will be the final mode of communication but at the moment television is huge. When I did KBC, it was new to me and I was unaware of it and I did it as someone said to me, 'Do it' and I said, 'Fine'. TV is a very potent medium and has a potential to grow even bigger. The very reason that India used to be criticised for its population has today become our USP in many aspects of consumption, be it in consumer goods or entertainment.

While it will be a treat for your audience to see you on the fictional show Yudh on TV, what made you do it?
I was wanting to attempt to do something that has not been done before. And let's see if people get attracted to what we have done. If they like what we are doing, we will be very happy and perhaps do more of it. If not, then we will see where we went wrong and try again. The idea of doing Yudh was to create finite fiction. It is not something that we are inventing every day on set. The decision that the creative team took was that we would shoot from start to finish before we did the broadcast, which is something novel and new. It gives you an opportunity to be in the character and is an extended version of a film that we will be broadcasting over almost two months of time. In a film, you just have two hours to tell a story.

Talk about Anurag Kashyap?
With Anurag, I was getting a lot more time to think out, to feel and invent something that does not necessarily follow the pattern of the written word. And which is the brief that Anurag gave me. He said, 'There are dialogues and a story, but I really would not be too shocked if you were to not say those lines. I would rather you feel what you have read in the form of the dialogue and if you feel like saying something that relates to that, I will be happy with it'. That for me was unique. It's happened for some scenes in the past, but not like this. Javed sahab had said to me for the death scene of Deewar that, 'I can't write for a death scene as I don't know what a man goes through just before he is dying and what he is supposed to say'. So, he gave me a broad concept and then we just adlibbed. The cricket commentary from Namak Halaal - I can talk English, I can walk English... was all spontaneous. It was the first shot of the film. I used to shoot 2-3 shifts in those days. I was in China creek doing an action sequence, came at about 2 o'clock and went to Mohan Studios to shoot Prakashji's (Prakash Mehra) Namak Halaal. Prakashji used to start laughing if he saw something funny being enacted and that would disturb us, so, we sent him out, with him saying, 'Yaar camera on kar do' and I said, 'I will try and make up something'. And that happened. The other factor is that today everything is digital, so you don't waste film. For almost 45 years, we lived with this fear that when you say action, you have to quickly start and the moment you say cut, you have to quickly cut as you are saving film that way. That does not happen today, so, even when they say action, you can take your time to think of what you want to say. Even when you are speaking and there are time gaps, someone like an Anurag will even capture that. Earlier the fear that you have to get it in one take as you may not get that opportunity again. With Hrishida (Hrishikesh Mukherjee), we would request, 'Can we do another one? Please Hrishida'. And he would say no and say, 'Yeh second take ka paisa tum dega'.

Another thing Anurag told me was, 'Sir, never ask me where the camera is and don't perform for the camera'. This again was something that is different from a film where we are told that this is where the camera is and this is where the trolley is. Anurag would say, 'Just do as you want to do. I will place the camera where I want.' So, in a couple of rehearsals he would see me and would then place his camera. With Anurag, even if you are not seen in the camera and you are doing something, it is registering for him. Anurag is very passionate about cinema and that is without a doubt. He is very keen on doing things he believes in personally the content of which he feels the need to put out. And it comes through when I find him on set. I may be the one on whom the camera is on. But if there is somebody sitting out of focus playing around with his fingers, that interests him, he will capture that too. These are little things we observe when we are being directed. The old format was more theatrical as cinema was a replication of theatre at that point in time. So, there was this whole attitude of speaking out your lines in a theatrical manner facing the camera but that's just gone. Now it's about being yourself. It's just wonderful and has been a new and fresh experience for me that I have really enjoyed.

Your experience working with Shoojit Sircar?
I have worked with him on many occasions. He is very sure about what he wants to do. I like his approach. The good thing about Shoojit is that he himself is an actor, so he understands an actor. He will somehow play that moment for you that gives you a kind of a hint on how you should be performing it and that is very helpful. He is very well organised, but yet if you give him an alternative he would gladly accept it and is not rigid. It's a joy for me to be working and interacting with this generation.

Sir, do you find a difference between acting for film versus TV?
The material that I have been involved in, I don't find too much difference. Today, we have the liberty of time to engage in a particular scene knowing fully well that you are not wasting time or film. You are given an opportunity to feel for that moment, rather than feel precise. To give that expression without having time was very difficult. When we were told about Vyjayanthimalaji and her dance expressions and how she had given four expressions in a couple of seconds and that too in one take. That is the admiration we had for an artiste. I remember Raj Kumarji once having a conversation with me. At that time, we used to have the Mitchell camera that was a huge machine. He would say, 'Give a close up on a 75 mm lens on a Mitchell camera and then I will know your calibre'. To express with that huge machine in front of you, it was very difficult. And now you can be by yourself and the camera could be about 100 metres away, but still catch you in close up giving you the space and time to do that.

Sir, would you ever look at doing theatre?
No. I have done amateur theatre, but to do theatre now, it really is the toughest thing in the world. And I really admire those who can do film and theatre at the same time. I have worked with many artistes who do a film and then go and do a show in the evening. How they manage, I don't know. Theatre is very exciting, but most difficult. I really have to find time to do more recitations of my father's poems for which we get requests from across the world. I want to create a ballet for Madhushala.

All youngsters today look forward to receiving your flowers and letter of appreciation for their work. What makes you do that?
I am just overjoyed. And so impressed when I see this talent as I don't have it. They are there in the very first attempt and they are 110% correct. I can't find fault in it and that just amazes me and I just feel like complimenting them and telling them how good they are. We are going through a fantastic period. The kind of artistes we are getting every Friday, somebody new and different, be it a writer, a story or a film. We are going through a great phase where even a small film, which has good content with a small budget, does not need to be looked down upon and there is equal patronage for it just like the big blockbusters, which have an entertainment value. It's just wonderful.

It was so gracious of you to have tweeted for Salman Khan's Kick.
When I saw it, I felt that gosh this is better than any other 'wood'. It looks magnificent. This is the kind of material and finesse that one hopes to be associated with in your lifetime. When you see it in somebody else's film, you cannot stop appreciating it. The way it has been shot... aahhh. In our time, every film did not even have a trailer and even if it did, we never got to see it. We were never allowed inside to see the editing or the camera. You had to feed the unit if you accidentally looked into the camera. It was a penalty. You were not even allowed two miles close to an editing room. Only when the film was out, did you get to see it.

Sir, even after achieving so much, what gives you a high at 72?
You take a project, it's a commitment and once that is there, you want to give it your 100%. You feel nice when you go in front of a camera, get a good scene and you enact it. And that is not necessarily when the whole unit claps for you or the director tells you that you have done well. I think artistes know within themselves whether they have done well or not.