MID-DAY (July 29, 2020)

Mother India actress Kumkum breathed her last on July 28 at the age of 86. The veteran actress was part of a number of yesteryear hit films like Mother India, CID, Kohinoor, Ujala, and Naya Daur, among others.

Late veteran actor Jagdeep's son, Naved Jafri, took to Twitter to pay respect to the actress. He wrote, "We have lost another gem. I have known her since I was a kid and she was family, a superb artist and a fantastic human being, innalillahe wa innailaihe raajeoon. Rest in peace kunkum aunty #ripkumkum #kumkum"

Kumkum hailed from Hussainabad in Sheikhpura district, Bihar.

Her most memorable film appearances include Mr X In Bombay, Mother India, Kohinoor, Ujala and Naya Daur.

She also starred in the first Bhojpuri film, Ganga Maiyya Tohe Piyari Chadhaibo, in 1963.

But her popularity rests mostly on the songs that were picturised on her, be it Madhuban Mein Radhika Nache Re, from Kohinoor (1960), Kabhi Aar Kabhi Paar from Aar Paar (1954) or Yeh Hai Bombay Meri Jaan from 1956's CID.

She was discovered by actor-director Guru Dutt in the 1950s, who case her in Aar Paar in an uncredited role. She later earned a small role in Dutt's Pyaasa.

Bella Jaisinghani (THE TIMES OF INDIA; July 9, 2020)

Mumbai: Veteran film comedian Jagdeep, best remembered as Soorma Bhopali of ‘Sholay’, passed away aged 81 on Wednesday.

The signature style of rolling his eyes, and speaking Hindi with a Bhopali dialect was his hallmark. Jagdeep featured in nearly 400 films over six decades, beginning with B R Chopra’s ‘Afsana’ (1951).

Born Syed Ishtiyaq Ahmed Jafri, the tenacious struggler made an early appearance as a streetsmart vagrant. From a child actor in Bimal Roy’s ‘Do Bigha Zamin’ and Guru Dutt’s ‘Aar Paar’, he became a teen artist and achieved success with ‘Bhabhi’ and ‘Patang’. Occasionally between the torn, patched trousers in Kabhi aar kabhi paar, and the lighthearted 'Chali chali re patang', there was the odd romantic song 'Paas baitho tabiyat behel jayegi' (Punar Milan).

He named his directorial venture ‘Soorma Bhopali’ after his famous act as the braggart coward. He is survived by sons Jaaved Jaaferi and Naved Jafri among other children.

Condolences poured in on Twitter. “We will miss you,” tweeted actor Johny Lever. The last rites will be on Thursday at Mazgaon Nariyalwadi Qabrastan where his mother was laid to rest.

Three generations of the Jaaferis on what it takes to keep audiences entertained
Kunal Guha (MUMBAI MIRROR; June 9, 2019)

All of 80 years, veteran comedian Jagdeep has an elephant’s memory. Precisely half-a-century ago, he escorted his son to the premiere of his film Anmol Moti (1969) — the first Indian film to feature an underwater fight sequence —in which his character wrestles with an octopus. When the creature eliminates his character in the scene, his son Jaaved Jaaferi, barely six then, was reduced to a howling mess. “He felt his father was no more,” says Jagdeep, whose film career spans over 70 years. Ahead of his grandson, Meezaan’s debut in Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Malaal, three generations of the Jaaferi clan collect at the patriarch’s Versova home to mull over their shared legacy.

Most know Jaaved as an accomplished actor, host and voiceover talent, the one who introduced Indian audiences to freestyle dance. But ask Jagdeep about his son’s earliest achievements and he returns to the filming of Wardat (starring Mithun Chakraborty) in Kashmir. At an after-shoot party, Javed, then just 15, beat the film’s baddie Shakti Kapoor in a dance battle. “Woh bola ‘kiske saath mukabla kara rahe ho?’” the veteran actor recalls. Looking back at the incident that occurred four decades ago, Jaaved, credits his youthful exuberance for the win. “I was in Class 10 then, and could dance for an hour non-stop.” He remembers being introduced to freestyle dancing on the streets of New York in 1983, while on a family vacation. “We came across street performers ‘body popping’ and ‘moon-walking’, and we were so mesmerised by their moves, we watched them for a whole hour, I remember.” On his return, Jaaved worked on mastering those moves, and, it proved a game changer at college fests — he topped the All India Dance Competition the following year.

Jaaved remembers accompanying brother Naved Jafri to nightclubs — “only during the day” — to put his skills to test. “We would brave muggy Mumbai afternoons to frequent a place near the airport called Take Off (later dubbed Go Bananas) every Sunday, dressed in shimmery outfits,” says Jaaved, who also remembers that his parents didn’t entirely approve of those ‘nightclub visits’. “Before disco became a thing, nightclubs had a negative connotation, because films depicted them as dens for sharab, jua and cabaret,” says Jaaved.

On becoming a parent, Jaaved says, he allowed Meezaan more room to keep up with his social calendar. “By my time, no one went out dancing though. Most of my friends would just go out for a drink,” says Meezaan, who played basketball for Maharashtra. He also attended New York Film School before dropping out to assist Sanjay Leela Bhansali in Padmaavat, an experience he describes as “a learning experience that no film school can possibly deliver”.

“I was well-versed with the industry and my parents prepared me for every job that comes being on the sets. I was told, ‘Even if someone says ‘chai laao’, you have to do it,’” says Meezaan, who will be making his debut in Bhansali’s forthcoming production. Javed was delighted and apprehensive about Meezaan’s decision. “I wanted him to complete the course. But then, Sanjay [Bhansali] convinced me that he would groom him,” says the concerned father.

While Meezaan’s entry into Bollywood seems meticulously planned, Jaaved’s was left more to chance. In his final year at RD National College, when he was the secretary of the drama club — and would hold a crowd with his immaculate impressions — he learnt about a casting call. “Subhash Ghai’s wife had seen me dance at college fests. So when he [Ghai] was looking for someone to play a suave villain, who could dance — something that was unheard of then — I decided to give it a shot,” he says about his debut film Meri Jung (1985), when he created quite a stir with his slick moves in the number Bol Baby Bol.

“Jaaved ke dance ne disco ko maar diya,” says Jagdeep proudly, who, for his part, got a head start as a child actor in films such as Afsana (1951) and Do Bigha Zamin (1953). His modest beginnings carved his socialist outlook — something he shared with filmmakers who he worked with at the time — K Asif, Guru Dutt, V Shantaram and Bimal Roy. “When Aar Paar became a hit, people asked Guru Dutt to throw a party at Taj Mahal hotel, but he refused. He said ‘I won’t host a party at a place where my workers will feel uncomfortable’. Eventually, the celebrations took place at a film studio,” he says, remembering the stupendous success of the 1954 noir comedy.

Jagdeep, who played a minor in that film, remembers how resourceful Dutt could be when it came to ironing out production niggles. “A mob of 500 had assembled in the garage where the song Sun Sun Sun Sun Zaalima was being shot,” Jagdeep recalls. “The crowd was making it impossible to get the desired shot. The ruckus even ticked off the garage owner who demanded that the shoot be wrapped up soon,” says Jagdeep. It didn’t help that the film’s female lead Shyama, a huge star then, was willing to shoot for only three hours. “So, Dutt asked cinematographer V K Murthy to set up his camera inside the car and experiment with angles and close-shots to ensure the crowd didn’t spill into the frame,” says Jagdeep. The end result was a number that was lauded for its avant-garde picturisation. “Necessity is truly the master of invention,” says Jaaved.

An enterprising maverick himself, Jaaved reinvented his career in TV after his son Meezaan was born in 1995. “When I moved to TV, people said only flop film actors turn to the small screen, but I was confident that I was connecting with the youth,” says the actor-turned-VJ, who engineered a new coolth with his ‘Hinglish’ speak. “They were saying ‘Yo’, but I flipped it, and started ‘Oye’.” Straddling music and film-based shows, Jaaved soon became the highest-paid actor on TV. “I was making a lakh per episode then,” says the actor known for his exceptional impersonations of virtually every Hindi film actor, as well as his original avatars, such as ‘Abdul Cutpiece’ and ‘Irani Boxer’. Like his son, Jagdeep, too, was known for his masterful impressions. “I would encounter these colourful characters while travelling by train and bus, and at Irani hotels, and adapt them in my onscreen avatars,” says the Jagdeep, whose iconic turn as Soorma Bhopali in the 1975 blockbuster Sholay turned him into an overnight sensation.

But Jagdeep modestly shifts the praise to Salim-Javed’s writing. “Javed would actually demonstrate the Bhopali twang, I only had to copy it,” says Jagdeep, crediting the writers for detailing the nuances of the quirky character. The character itself, he says, was borrowed from a theatre production the writer duo worked on 15 years prior to Sholay.

Today, as Meezaan enters the industry his father and grandpa have made a mark in, Javed feels his journey will be different. “When I got into films, the hero had a mould — he flaunted the same hairstyle for 10 years, and was different from the character actors. But today, the hero alters himself based on the character.”

He trusts his son will wear the Jaaferi name like a badge of honour. “When I came into the industry, I was known as Jagdeep’s son, and I am still proud of that tag. My father was a comedian, and I was introduced as a stylish actor who could dance. But then, you have to make it on your own.”

The Jaaferis will, no doubt, be keenly watching, like the rest of us, to see how Meezaan shapes his own identity. 

The makers of India's first dance reality show are now planning a comeback
Kunal Guha (MUMBAI MIRROR; January 24, 2016)


Nearly two decades ago, India's first and longest-running dance reality show, Boogie Woogie was conceived in just 15 minutes by Naved Jafri and collaborator Ravi Behl. "I wrote it in my illegible handwriting and the same piece of paper was presented to the channel," remembers Naved, who hardly knew that he was about to make television history. The show that aired for 14 years at a stretch and had sporadic seasons in the following four, was initially shot down by creatives at Sony Entertainment Television. Later, Sudesh Iyer, the channel's head then, happened to catch the pilot. "We didn't hear from them for a year and had given up. I remember I was to join Jaaved (Jaaferi) for a show in the US, when Sudesh called me to his office and gave me a cheque of Rs 14 lakhs and told me to get cracking," smiles Naved, reminiscing about his first big break.

Launched in September 1996, when satellite TV was a new phenomenon, their initial vision was to create a platform for dancers on TV. Being a first-mover had its advantages, "There was no So You Think You Can Dance then. We got stars to dance with contestants long before Dancing with the Stars. The sad thing is that these two (producers Naved and Ravi) didn't know much about IP and copyright, else they could've just licensed the format and there would be a version of Boogie Woogie in every country by now," regrets Jaaved, Naved's brother and cojudge on the show.

Today, they plan to revive their iconic show along with Naved's wife Sayeeda Kurlawala, who hadn't watched a single episode before getting married four years ago. "I've lived in the US for 25 years. For me, Bollywood was Salman Khan," she smiles. Jaaved jokes that if she had seen the show, she wouldn't have considered the alliance.

Having experimented with dance themes like daku and superhero, the team feels that there's only so much one can do. "A dance show is like biryani, you can serve it with raita or a new garnish but it will essentially be the same," says Naved, adding that they'd rather stick to the original format. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it. The show worked for its simplicity and spontaneity. In the military, you have savdhaan and vishram, our show was on vishram," explains Jaaved.

Nonchalant about the stiff competition in the reality TV space today, Naved feels that Boogie Woogie worked for being unique. "Shows today stick to a format. Following a performance, the judges dole out their verdict, one at a time, then the host shares his/her thoughts. We, as judges of the show, would sometimes sit in the audience and engage with them and try to figure out how they'd rate a performance, something that Kapil Sharma does now," adds Naved, who feels that of the ones that emulated Boogie Woogie, only Dance India Dance shared their soul, hence outlived the rest.

The BW team curated performances considering their family viewers. "We'd never let a child dress like an adult or perform an obscene number. A popular series was the disco special with housewives. I remember a 50-year-old woman who performed to Disco Station. She wore a red wig and leather pants, and when her husband was asked about her performance, he said, 'I want to take her for a second honeymoon now,'" says Naved, whose first love was karate. "I was a kid when Enter the Dragon released. It was an adult film but I had to watch it, so my mother draped me in a burqa and took me for it."

Evolution may signify maturity but team BW isn't willing to embrace the mechanics of TRP-driven programming. The exaggerated drama — a staple in reality shows today — Jaaved feels takes focus away from dance. "Many shows make contestants cry and then zoom into their tears. We respected our contestants. When someone came on the show, he was our guest. We knew his family would watch him on TV. Even if there were issues with the performance, our feedback was constructive and never critical," he says. Naved adds, "Also, as judges, if we had differences, we'd go to the monitor and see the performance again and start rolling only after reaching a consensus." This style of conducting a reality show goes against everything the format thrives on today, but the makers feel they've survived long enough to know what works. "Channels conduct focus studies to figure how much TRPs a show may garner but there's no formula for success."

Even the performances today have evolved from straight-laced choreography to stunts and visual antics. But Sayeeda feels that this has diluted the art form. "Do we see real dance on TV anymore? There are acrobats, people being held up by wires, and while it's great to watch, the dance is shadowed." Jaaved agrees and feels that anyone who has rhythm and style can't go wrong. "Bhagwan dada's dance was simple but he had rhythm. It doesn't need to be technical. Having fun is most important," he shares. Since India had a foundation in classical dance, Jaaved feels, western forms took time to gain acceptance. "When I started in Meri Jung, Sarojji (Khan), asked me, 'Tu kya karta hain, woh dikha,' and she retained a few of my moves. I wanted to rap but an entire rap number was unheard of then. Eventually, we retained a rap verse in Bol Baby Bol," remembers Jaaved, who also sang the number along with Kishore Kumar and S Janaki.

Despite their primetime success, Jaaved jokes that even today, most don't pronounce their show correctly. "They say everything from Voogie Voogie, Oogie Oogie, Boogie Boogie," he laughs. But this never bothered them. "My cousin would say Arnold Surinder or Shivajinagar but it was fine. The purpose of language is to communicate. Even a name like Amitabh Bachchan means something only because of the body of work he has," says Naved.