Showing posts with label Patang. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Patang. Show all posts
Nawazuddin Siddiqui opens up on his first marriage with Sheeba & then getting married to his sweetheart Aaliya
8:06 AM
Posted by Fenil Seta
How a tumultuous relationship, followed by an equally rocky arranged alliance, led Nawazuddin Siddiqui back to Anjali, who’d become his second wife, Aaliya
MUMBAI MIRROR (October 23, 2017)
Anjali and I continued to live together. We were madly in love but it was a tumultuous relationship, the course of which changed randomly, driven by fury. Her love was deep, her temper short. We quarreled every few days or she would get upset. And ever so often she would pack her bag and storm out in a fit of anger, to stay with a friend at Lokhandwala. Sometimes she would not return for one or two months.
I would follow her, plead for forgiveness and cajole her to return home. This became a sort of a ritual, like a cassette tape annoyingly put on repeat. Although I loved her very much, I thought she might be too risky to get married to. So I decided to not get married at all. The saga of love and running around in circles continued for something like a year and a half. Then came a time when she did not return for a very, very long time. I forget the exact length of time. I was rather fed up of running around like this repeatedly.
Even though my heart pined for her, I did not go to get her. The prolonged period turned into a silent break-up. I think nowadays they call it ‘ghosting’. The loneliness was getting to me now.
► Ammi picked a lovely girl called Sheeba who hailed from Haldwani, which is near Nainital. I got married a few months before the shoot of Patang. Ahead of Haldwani, lie Bijnor, Najibabad, etc.; most of Sheeba’s family had settled in Haldwani and around it. Anjali had disappeared for almost a year; there had been no word from her at all. I got married and went to shoot Patang in Ahmedabad, tagging Sheeba along. We lived together for nearly two months. The crew of Patang knows her well. Then she went home and I went on to shoot my next film. Sheeba was a wonderful girl with a heart of gold but her brother was very intrusive. He interfered in our marriage constantly.
► Before I had set off for the court, Ammi too had advised me on similar lines. ‘If you feel there is even a teeny bit, even a drop of love left between the two of you, suleh kar lena (go for a compromise). Tell the judge then that you have made a compromise and you two want to live together.’ Her voice rang in my ears, her advice swirled in my head in a loop. I tried to make eye contact with the woman who was still my wife, but might not be within a matter of minutes. Her eyes were often lowered or gazing elsewhere. Perhaps it was a mismatch of moments. I tried again and again and again, my desperate, apologetic eyes seeking hers, but I just could not get her to look at me. (I got plenty of eye contact from her brother though.)
Our hearing began. The judge called Sheeba and asked her, ‘What do you want?’ She replied, as if with a sense of urgency, ‘I want a divorce. These guys have tortured us.’ My heart sank on the spot. My lawyer, to whom I had communicated Ammi’s wishes as my own which indeed they were, whispered in my ears what I already knew, ‘They have asked for divorce. There is nothing we can do now. I’m sorry, Nawaz.’
► Anjali and I began to meet again and soon after, we got back together. She would arrive very upbeat, with a confidence that my house was her own. She treated the tiny space—which then was still the one-room flat in Malad—as if it was her own. It was lovely. Her presence soothed me. But something was different. This time, she demanded marriage right away. She insisted upon it continuously. I was afraid: what if she repeated her ways of leaving in bouts of anger? She persisted, trying to assure me that she would not. In Budhana, we, especially the elders, believe that any spoilt child — a spoilt youngster actually— is bound to mend his or her ways once she or he gets married.
► During the ceremony, the mullah told Anjali that she would need a Muslim name for the nikah, while her Hindu name would be in brackets. ‘Zainab,’ Anjali said instantly. ‘You can keep my name Zainab.’ I was completely shocked and looked at her wide-eyed in silent bewilderment. How did she come up with a random name like that on the spot? Your name is your identity. How could you change it just like that?
► Approximately three years after our wedding, Anjali decided to rename herself.
Excerpts from An Ordinary Life, A Memoir, by Nawazuddin Siddiqui with Rituparna Chatterjee, and published by Penguin Random House India
Roger Ebert said I was a natural and I still think it was the greatest compliment ever-Nawazuddin Siddiqui
8:08 AM
Posted by Fenil Seta
Sanyukta Iyer (MUMBAI MIRROR; April 10, 2017)
The city is also known for the Art Theatre Co-op which since its inception in 1913 has been screening critically acclaimed independent and foreign films. There's also the historic Virginia Theatre, a 1525-seat theatre dating back to the 1920s, with ornate, Spanish Renaissance-influenced interiors, an opera stage and an elaborate Wurlitzer pipe organ. Every year, between March and May, the theatre hosts late author-critic Roger Ebert's Overlooked Film Festival aka Ebertfest. For the rest of the year, it doesn't have a daily show schedule, but several special screenings and live performances every month.
After his death, on April 4, 2013, a life-size bronze statue of Ebert was unveiled in front of the theatre during the Ebertfest on April 24, 2014. In April 2012, Nawazuddin Siddiqui visited Champaign on Ebert's invitation and stayed with him and his wife, Chaz, for eight days. “And that was my greatest international affair,“ he reminisces. Over to Nawaz:
Come, live with me
I've travelled the world because my films have been screened at international film festivals and it's been wonderful walking the red carpet abroad. But my most cherished memories from my journeys has not been in big, buzzing city, but in a small village called Champaign, wohi peena wala... Interesting name, isn't it?
For the 14th edition of the Ebertfest, he had especially selected Iranian filmmaker Asghar Farhadi's drama A Separation, and Prashant Bhargava's debut film, Patang, in which I had acted. Giving the film the rare rating of four stars, he had described it as, “Patang flies as free and colourful as a kite.“ He did not review Bollywood movies but he was an updated man, in sync with every film coming out of India and touring the festival circuit. Indian films were constantly on his radar.
He loved Patang so much that he invited me to come and live with him for a few days. He said I was “a natural“ and I still think it was the greatest compliment ever. He lipsynced pre-recorded speeches on stage. In one he spoke about Patang at length. I still smile when I think of all the wonderful memories I have with him.
Look, who's talking
Since Roger saab had throat cancer, he could not speak or eat food. There was a steel plate in his neck. He would write on a piece of paper and a machine would say it in a voice. We spoke a lot like this, but not once did I feel like he was impaired. In fact, I was more comfortable talking to him than I have ever felt. His wife would often join us, and they were very hospitable.
I watched Citizen Kane with Roger saab and it felt like watching it for the first time. I had watched it years ago in drama school and wanted to become an actor. Roger saab and I decoded the film for four hours. He'd done a voice-over for the film, it was magical.
We watched another film too and I learnt how to really criticise and appreciate a film. Roger saab explained the layered and nonlinear narrative forms, uses of lighting, how a chair suddenly becomes too big, unusual camera angles, sound techniques borrowed from radio, deep focus shots, and long takes. I understood everything. There were no language barriers.
Nawazuddin Siddiqui is the most shelved actor of Bollywood
8:00 AM
Posted by Fenil Seta
Nawazuddin Siddiqui is the lead actor in eight unreleased films made in the last six years!
Subhash K Jha (DNA; December 24, 2016)
It took Nawazuddin Siddiqui 11 years to find a foothold in the film industry. But since becoming a star of sorts with 2012’s Gangs Of Wasseypur, he has been struggling with releasing some of his films.
When it began...
This began during GOW and Kahaani’s releases and the struggle continues to this day. In 2011, he was a part of Mangesh Hadawale’s Dekh Indian Circus, about a dad struggling to send his children to see this circus. The project remains unreleased.
Wins hai toh kya?
The internationally lauded Patang, (2012) by Prashant Bhargava remains unreleased. Geetu Mohandas’s road film Liar’s Dice, that won leading lady Geetanjali Thapa the National award for Best Actress was ignored by the distributors.
The brutal saga of gangsterism Monsoon Shootout, directed by Amit Kumar made an impact at the Cannes Film Festival in 2013, but left Indian exhibitors unimpressed. That same year, Nawaz played a detective in Buddhadeb Dasgupta’s political satire Anwar Ka Ajab Kissa. But no release!
Abhi bhi unreleased
In 2015, he played a teacher having an affair with an underage student in Haraamkhor, directed by Shlok Sharma, which remains unreleased. That same year, Bishnu Dutta announced Gawah The Witness with Nawaz and Emraan Hashmi in the lead. It never even went on the floors.
Sarthak Dasgupta’s The Music Teacher is complete and unreleased. There are other projects with Nawaz in the lead which are in financial trouble and may or may not eventually get released.
Says Nawazuddin, “What can I say? All these are films to which I have given my blood sweat and tears. I’ve worked hard and for nominal fees for these, as I believed in these films. They are important films not only to my career, but also as works of cinematic brilliance by directors who know their jobs. I was hopeful that after the success of my solo-hero film Freaky Ali, some of these films would get released.”
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