Showing posts with label Raj Khosla. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Raj Khosla. Show all posts

100 years of Johnny Walker, who used a Rs 26-a-month ticket punch to map the soul of cinema


Today marks 100 years of Johnny Walker: the non-drinking bus conductor who used a Rs 26-a-month ticket punch to map the soul of cinema
Alpana Chowdhury (MUMBAI MIRROR; October 18, 2026)

Playing a petty pickpocket with irresistible aplomb in C.I.D. (1955), the iconic Johnny Walker took audiences through a city of striking contrasts singing “Ae dil hai mushkil jeena yahan… Yeh hai Bombay meri jaan.” On the one hand, Bombay boasted stately Art Deco buildings, palm-tree-lined sea fronts, broad avenues, rumbling trams, horse-drawn Victorias, Plymouths, textile mills, and a unique work culture. On the other, it could be a cold, unforgiving landscape. Having experienced its harsh underbelly while struggling for a living, the comedian sang the track with such infectious chutzpah that it became the defining anthem of the metropolis.

Born as Badruddin Kazi on 11 November 1926 in Indore, the late actor would have celebrated his centenary this year. Delightfully, despite being a lifelong teetotaller who never touched a drop of alcohol, Kazi was rechristened after the famous Scotch whisky brand by filmmaker Guru Dutt, who was thoroughly mesmerised by Kazi’s uncanny impression of a stumbling drunkard.

A ticket to stardom
Long before Baazi (1951) changed his fortunes, the comedian endured a crushing early life. After his father lost his job at an Indore cotton mill, his large family relocated first to Deolali and then to Bombay. Starting out selling ice candy in Deolali at the tender age of fourteen, Kazi later sold fruits and vegetables on the streets of Bombay to support his household. Eventually, he secured a job as a conductor on the BEST bus routes, earning a modest monthly wage of Rs 26.26.

The job had one silver lining: free transit across the length and breadth of Bombay, which allowed him to drop by movie studios. The cheeky conductor transformed the aisle of the bus into his personal stage. He would shout out stops in bizarre, exaggerated voices—bellowing “Mahim-wala passenger, get ready, ladies first!”—and pull off uncanny mimicry to keep weary commuters laughing.

When his family relocated to Hyderabad in 1947, the uncomplaining youngster stayed behind to chase his cinematic dreams, entering the industry as a junior artiste—a polite euphemism for an extra in the crowd. “If I was lucky, I got a few lines of dialogue, for which I would be paid Rs 10,” he recalled during an interview at his spacious bungalow in the 1990s, long after retiring from the screen.

The turning point
While working as a crowd extra for Rs. 5 a day, Kazi often entertained stars on set during breaks with his impressions. While shooting Hulchul, actor-scriptwriter Balraj Sahni watched him perform and saw a genuine talent being treated like a jester. Sahni pulled him aside, told him to respect his craft, and arranged an audition with Guru Dutt, who was then drafting Baazi. The audition led to the birth of a screen legend. Kazi had staggered into Dutt’s office, pretending to be sloshed, picking a quarrel and causing such a scene that Dutt nearly had security toss him onto the street—until Sahni revealed it was all an act. Impressed by the the performance, Dutt cast him on the spot and gave him the catchy moniker after the release of Baazi.

The film marked the start of a legendary partnership. The two men were polar opposites—Dutt the erudite intellectual, and Kazi the unpretentious, cheery realist who had studied only until the sixth standard—yet they forged a deep personal bond. They played badminton after wrap-ups, ate phuchkas (pani puris) at street stalls, and went on hunting trips to Madhya Pradesh.

Dutt valued his friend so highly that he conceived specific roles for him, gave him top billing directly under the leads, and even asked lyricists to write entertaining, profound songs especially for him. Following Aar Paar (1954), Dutt gifted his favourite screen prankster a brand-new convertible Ford. Until then, Kazi had happily ridden public transport, thrilled whenever commuters recognized him.

Romance and realism
It was on the sets of Aar Paar that the actor fell for his co-star, Noorjahan (Noor), sister of actress Shakila. Though her character on screen rebuffed him coquettishly with Na na na tauba, real-life romance blossomed between the stanzas.

In stark contrast to the rogue he played on screen, Johnny Walker was a devoted family man who loved quiet fishing trips to Powai Lake with his wife. “Being married to her has made me one of the happiest men on earth!” he effused.

Playing the man on the street came naturally to him as he had been one himself. The unforgettable tel-maalish champiwala in Pyaasa (1957) was modelled on street masseurs Dutt and Walker had observed in Calcutta, who chattered incessantly while massaging clients. “My years of struggle made me aware of human foibles and frailties. That’s why I could play these characters in an identifiable manner,” he reflected.

Stepping off the wheel
Walker lent his comic genius to masterpieces by directors like Chetan Anand (Taxi Driver), Raj Khosla (C.I.D.), B R Chopra (Naya Daur), Bimal Roy (Madhumati), and H S Rawail (Mere Mehboob). Yet in 1968, at the pinnacle of his stardom, he voluntarily cut back his workload. “I was doing double shifts then, but I felt money was of no use if I didn’t have time to eat or sleep when I should,” he reasoned.

In 1985, he stepped away from cinema altogether, coming out of retirement only once for Kamal Haasan’s Chachi 420 in 1997. Content with his quiet life, his car, his home, and providing his children the education he missed, he famously remarked: “Crorepatis don’t have my peace of mind.”

For his 100th birthday, here’s a toast to the non-drinker who gave this melting pot of a city its beating heart: Main Bambai ka babu, Naam mera Anjana, English dhun mein gaaun, Hindustani gaana…

Raj Khosla’s legacy to be celebrated on his centenary through screenings, panel discussion

Raj Khosla’s legacy to be celebrated on his centenary

To mark director Raj Khosla’s birth centenary, Film Heritage Foundation to screen his hits, and host panel discussion with Asha Parekh and Mahesh Bhatt tomorrow
Mohar Basu (MID-DAY; May 30, 2025)

Ask cinephiles their favourite Raj Khosla movie, and the answers will widely vary — some will choose the noir CID (1956), others, the mystery drama Woh Kaun Thi? (1964), and some others, Dostana (1980). The one thing they will agree on, however, is that the director was a master across genres. It is this mastery that Film Heritage Foundation (FHF) aims to celebrate with the retrospective, Raj Khosla 100 — Bambai Ka Babu, at Regal Cinema in Mumbai tomorrow.

Marking the filmmaker’s birth centenary, the day-long celebration will feature a panel discussion with veteran actor Asha Parekh, filmmaker Mahesh Bhatt, and Amborish Roychoudhury, author of Khosla’s biography. Not just that, his classics — including CID, Bombai Ka Babu (1960), and Mera Gaon Mera Desh (1971) — will be screened.

Parekh, who had worked with the late director on several films, remembers him as one who put his leading ladies at the centre of the narrative, at a time when they were largely sidelined. “Do Badan [1966], Chirag [1969], Main Tulsi Tere Aangan Ki [1978], and Mera Gaon Mera Desh are among my favourite films. Before [working] with Raj Khosla, I was known more for my dancing and glamorous roles. Do Badan changed people’s perception of me as an actor who could perform serious roles. He was a fine filmmaker,” she reminisces.

Shivendra Singh Dungarpur, Director, FHF, notes that Khosla successfully dabbled in many genres in his three-decade career. “I’d describe him as the Howard Hawks of Indian cinema for his ability to successfully make films in every genre. He excelled in song picturisation, and was known for having strong female characters in his films.”

Why Mahesh Bhatt wept bitterly after the release of Do Raaste and later got Rs. 300 for it


Avijit Ghosh (THE TIMES OF INDIA; May 20, 2025)

New Delhi: In the winter of 1969, a tornado named Rajesh Khanna barrelled through India. Two films created Hindi cinema's first superstar: Shakti Samanta’s Aradhana, shortly followed by Raj Khosla’s Do Raaste.

But the first few days of Do Raaste were uncertain at the box-office. Mahesh Bhatt, a young “production hand” in the film, wept bitterly over the film’s grim prognosis, says a forthcoming biography of Raj Khosla, whose 100th birth anniversary falls on May 31.

Khosla had already delivered superhits in a variety of genres: thriller CID (1956), suspenseful Woh Kaun Thi? (1964) and romantic drama Do Badan (1966) underlining his ability as an all-rounder. But his last two ventures, Anita (1967) and Chirag (1969), hadn’t fared well. Debt collectors were at the door.

Do Raaste, which he produced and directed, was based on Marathi writer Chandrakant Kakodkar’s novel, Nilambari. When the film opened at Bombay’s Royal Opera House on December 5, 1969, editor Waman Bhonsle and Bhatt were at the theatre.

Biographer Amborish Roychoudhury writes in the book, “A manager by the name of Desai, came to Bhatt and Bhonsle and said, “Saamne woh Shakti ki picture chal rahi hai Aradhana, woh advance mein housefull hai. Yahan par log nahin aate. Picture doobegi.” (Shakti’s film Aradhana, playing across the road, is running to full house in advance booking. No one is coming here. This film will flop.)

“When he heard this, Bhatt broke down. Bhonsle had seen it all before, but the young Bhatt, all of 20, was emotionally attached to the film,” says the book, co-authored by Anita Khosla and Uma Khosla Kapur, both director’s daughters.

The crisply-written book titled, "Raj Khosla: The Authorized Biography,” also says that the film originally ended with some “touching lines about mother-son relationship” which wasn’t working too well with the audience.

Khosla reached out to heroine Sadhana, with whom he had worked in four films. “Over the years, she had become a confidante and a sounding board. He showed her his films, and she told him what she felt,” writes Roychoudhury.

Sadhana suggested ending the film with a clip of the track, “Bindiya Chamkegi”, which was to become radio countdown show, Binaca Geetmala’s No 1 song of 1971. Khosla carried out the change.

Do Raaste “ran for more than 50 weeks at the same Opera House where the staff had written the film off.” Debt collectors were paid. Khosla announced a bonus for some staff members. Bhatt’s bonus was Rs 300, equivalent to a month’s wage. “He gave me 300 bucks extra to me for shedding tears!,” the biography quotes Bhatt as saying.

Khosla passed away in 1991. In the foreword, Bhatt describes him as “My mentor. My master.”

Dev Anand insisted only I will play the role of Rosie in Guide-Waheeda Rehman


Dev and Waheeda in Prem Pujari, his directorial debut

Waheeda Rehman, who paired with the debonair star in classics such as CID, Kala Bazar, Baat Ek Raat Ki and Guide, remembers the actor whose birth centenary falls on Sept 26
As told to Shruti Sonal (THE TIMES OF INDIA; September 24, 2023)

When I was first signed to star opposite Dev, I had no idea that I would be working with him. Those days we got to know about our costars at the last moment. When I went on the sets of CID, director Raj Khosla introduced me to the whole unit. When I saw Dev, I was surprised and shocked. I went up to him and said “Dev saab, it’s an honour to meet you.”

He replied, “Tum mujhe Dev saab nahi kahogi (You can’t call me Dev saab).” I told him that I was a newcomer, and he was a big star, so how could I call him by his first name? But he insisted. He explained very calmly that if someone uses words like ‘saab’ or ‘sir’, a distance is created and he doesn’t feel comfortable. As a result, he became the only person in the industry whom I called by name. Everyone else was “ji”, “saab”, and “sir”. He was just Dev for me.

Guide was made in Hindi and English. Vijay Anand directed the Hindi version; Tad Danielewski, the English. Both didn’t want to work with me. However, Dev insisted that only Waheeda will do the role. I told him not to force the directors. But he stood by me, and insisted that as the producer, he would take the call. I blushed when he told me that ever since reading the book by R K Narayan, he had only imagined me playing Rosie. I was taken aback when he told me that he knew that if problems arise, I would stand by him. That’s what happened.

There was a lot of chaos as we were shooting simultaneously in Hindi and English. Ego clashes between the two directors hampered the shoot. Dev was very upset and worried. A lot of time was being wasted. One day, he suggested that we should first shoot in Hindi, then in English. He asked me for additional dates and I agreed without a second thought. “See, I knew you’d stand by me,” he replied.

During that era, there were three big stars: Dev, Raj Kapoor, and Dilip Kumar. All were very talented, but there was something different about him. He was not condescending. He insisted on working with new directors and crew, and made everyone comfortable. He was a charming actor and a charming human being. He was also a decent flirt. Dev was always the most well-dressed person on the set. He had so much energy mentally and physically. If his clothes would get drenched in sweat or get soiled, he would run to his room, change, and then come back to take a shot. I used to joke, and call him an ‘Eveready Battery’, always charged. Dev also had an ear for good music and was very particular about the songs in his films. If he didn’t like a song, he would even tell (Sachin Dev) Burman da, “Dada, maza nahi aaya! Kuch aur banaiye.”

As I become older, it sometimes becomes difficult to recall the details of the time I spent with him. What I remember the most, however, is how broad-minded and progressive Dev was in his thinking. Also, he didn’t stick to the formulaic films or typical love stories that were being made in that time. He wanted every film of his to be different from the other. He had the guts to make Guide, which had a very bold subject. More than a love story, it was about three people who want to make something of their life. The characters were grey, and made unconventional choices. It was different, yet at the same time, very true to life and the people we see around us even today.

I am sure wherever he is, he is happy that his work is being honoured and remembered even today.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Pocket picked at Delhi premiere, but Jewel Thief kept quiet

A pickpocket pinched Dev Anand’s purse, robbing him of Rs 15,000 during the premiere of Jewel Thief (1967) at a New Delhi theatre. Adjusted for inflation, that roughly amounts to Rs 7.5 lakh today.
“I flew all the way from Darjeeling to Delhi to attend the premiere at the Odeon Cinema. The crowds were jumping up and down with delirious joy as I alighted from the car outside the theatres,” the actor writes in his autobiography, Romancing with Life.

“Suddenly a hand brushed my hip pocket. I checked for my purse, and found it missing. But I did not react, for the euphoria of the moment was too immense to cry over a meagre sum of Rs 15,000, lost in the enormous wave of goodwill and popularity,” he writes.

“Stardom cannot be earned or bought at a price. I let the pickpocket dance away in joy with my cash-filled purse,” Anand concludes.

Interestingly, Dev Anand had played a pickpocket in the film, Pocket Maar (1956).

Waman Bhonsle was my friend, philosopher, guide and the first genius I came across in the industry-Vikram Bhatt


The filmmaker remembers National Award winning editor Waman Bhonsle who passed away yesterday
Onkar Kulkarni (BOMBAY TIMES; April 27, 2021)

Veteran film editor Waman Bhonsle whose career spanned four decades in Bollywood passed away yesterday due to age related issues. The National Award winning editor, who was in his late 80s worked on movies across 1960s to 1990s, including films like Do Raaste (1969), Mera Gaon Mera Desh (1971), Parichay (1972), Mausam (1975), Aandhi (1975), Kalicharan (1976), Inkaar (1977), Karz (1980), Dostana (1980), Hero (1983), Saaheb (1985), Ram Lakhan (1989), Agneepath (1990), Saudagar (1991) and Ghulam (1998) among others.

Post the news break, the film fraternity was quick to post condolences and share memories on social media. Vikram Bhatt was one of the firsts to share a few words on social media about the man who was his friend, philosopher and guide. When BT reached out to the filmmaker, he said, “He is the first genius that I came across in the film industry. He was so good when it came to editing. He was my friend, philosopher and guide. He’s taught me so much. I was a Chief Assistant on Agneepath (1990) when I first met him. He took me under his wings. He taught me the finer points of film editing. That was the time when the process used to be different as there were no computers.”

About his top-notch editing skills, Vikram adds, “Once he saw a shot he would remember it well. He would know the exact number of frames he has used and the number of frames that were left. Like, if a director told him ki thoda shot badha do, he would say nahi frames nahi hai. If he said frames nahi hai, toh frames nahi hai. That would be the last word.”

After Vikram turned to direction, he continued to closely work with Waman but soon the latter made an exit. “He edited my films all the way till Ghulam (1998). Then, computers came in, however he didn’t want to take the leap. When I was making Kasoor (2001), I told him that I will hire a guy who he can sit with and do the editing. He said, ‘No, Vikram, if I cannot hold a film in my hand then I can’t edit it.' I missed him. There was a time when he used to be so busy with film projects that he used to give filmmakers 3-4 hours everyday. The who’s who have worked with him, right from Subhash Ghai, Raj Khosla, Shekhar Kapur, Mahesh Bhatt, Gulzar saab, Boney Kapoor, Mukul Anand, and the list is endless.”

I’d ask Amitabh Bachchan solicitously, “I hope I didn’t hurt you too much?”-Shatrughan Sinha


Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; October 19, 2019)

For the millennials, Dostana is Karan Johar’s romcom which got John Abraham and Abhishek Bachchan, playing roomies pretending to be gay so they can live in an apartment of their choice with Priyanka Chopra, the best jodi of 2008. But for those who date back by a few decades, Dostana is Karan’s father, Yash Johar’s action-drama, featuring Amitabh Bachchan, Shatrughan Sinha and Zeenat Aman, which opened in the theatres on October 17, 1980. “Thank you for reminding me of the fiilm,” Shatru ji’s distinctive baritone booms across the wire. He’s in the midst of hectic campaigning for the state elections,but happy to recall that despite much skepticism, director Raj Khosla had expressed confidence in him, asserting that the role of the lawyer, Ravi Kapoor, could only be played by Shatrughan Sinha. “Amitabh, my friend from my struggling days and the favourite of the nation then, played my bestie (police officer Vijay Varma) with Zeenat, a common friend, as the lady we’re both in love with,” he informs.

He flashbacks to a three-day shoot at Mumbai’s Mehboob Studio, for which an expensive set had been erected. Following the sudden demise of his make-up man Prasad, a devastated Shatru ji, busy with the funeral arrangements, had not turned up for the shoot for the first couple of days. His producer was very understanding, but on the last day, there were urgent summons for him to film one important scene with Bachchan as the set had to be dismantled. He was also informed that since his co-star had another commitment, he would be there only till 2 pm.

Shatru ji assured everyone that the show would go on and drove in through the gates at 1.30 pm. “My director was sure I would pull off the intricate trolley shot despite several pages of dialogue within the deadline. But as I walked into the set, I could see from the worried faces around me that others weren’t so sure,” he reminisces, informing that while the make-up man touched up his face, an assistant director read out his lines to him, following which his moves and the camera field was explained to him. “At 1.40 pm, I stood up and said, ‘Okay, let’s go for a take.’ Raj Khosla had so much faith in me that he didn’t argue.”

As the camera rolled, the faces around him grew more tense as they were going into the shot blind, without even one rehearsal. It was a difficult shot, with a drunk Ravi confronting Vijay with several allegations, and slapping him. “I don’t know what I said or did that day, I was in a trance, but as soon as the director called ‘Cut’, there was a roar of applause, followed by Raj Khosla’s ‘Bravo.’ Then, as Amitabh hugged me, others milled around, congratulating me on a perfect shot. The time was 1.50 pm.”

Everyone was satisfied, except Shatru ji himself. There was still 10 minutes left and he pushed for another take. “The camera started rolling at 1.55 pm, but halfway through that shot, while he was still in the frame, Amitabh walked up to me and hugged me, saying, ‘Lalla, let’s not do this anymore, usse better nahin hoga.’ And it was from this healthy competition, mutual admiration and warm camaraderie that Dostana was born. It remains an object lesson to young actors almost 40 years later; to not just think of themselves, but work with co-stars to create magic on camera,” says Shatru ji.

Interestingly, the film also reunited, Prem Chopra and Amrish Puri, who knew each other from their theatre days in Shimla. “He was around five years my senior, a jolly good fellow and a stickler for details. We both performed at Shimla’s Gaiety Theatre, did a couple of plays together, for which I won some awards and the desire to be an actor was born,” says Chopra, all praise for the late actor, his generous producer and versatile director.

Prod him on the two leading men and he recounts a scene when he holds Ravi and Vijay captive, and whips the latter for details. “After every shot and every lashing, I’d ask Amitabh solicitously, “I hope I didn’t hurt you too much?” Finally, when he wondered why I kept saying that and I pointed out that it was my turn to get beaten up next. ‘I want you to be gentle with me when the time comes,’’’ he concludes with a laugh.

When Sadhana haunted Manoj Kumar and Biswajit almost died to save her


Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; September 7, 2019)

Since the last few days, it’s been pelting down in Mumbai which is perhaps why the song from Woh Kaun Thi?, “Naina Barse Rimjhim Rimjhim” is stuck in my mind or maybe because September 2 was its leading lady Sadhana’s 78th birth anniversary. Even after 55 years, Madan Mohan’s haunting melody, along with the vision of the mysterious lady in white, resonates in our collective memory. Its ‘hero’ Manoj Kumar recalls filming the song in Kufri with Sadhana ji lip-synching to the composer’s voice because Lata Mangeshkar had fallen ill and was unable to record it before the schedule. To ensure that the schedule was not cancelled, Madan Mohan ji recorded the song himself, telling director Raj Khosla that Lata ji could dub it on their return. “A crowd of star-gazers were watching us shoot, and after a while they wondered aloud why Sadhana was singing in a man’s voice,” he guffaws.

Manoj Kumar saab (right) himself had recommended Sadhana ji’s name, but while she was keen to partner with him in the chiller thriller, she pointed out that since neither of their films had done well commercially, it might not be a viable jodi. To this he quipped, “Two minus will make a plus.” However, the actor admits, that having taken off to Delhi earlier, he was on tenterhooks, wondering which actress was coming, till he saw Sadhana ji and heaved a sigh of relief.

“Woh Kaun Thi? also made me a full-fledged writer,” reveals Manoj Kumar saab who having ghost-written in his struggling days, was going through the script while his director shot with Parveen Choudhary who played Dr Lata. On Khosla saab’s return, he told him that he wanted to discuss some scenes and was invited to his hotel room. When Manoj Kumar saab confessed to having rewritten six-seven scenes, Khosla saab silently read them, then, without saying a word, strode to the actor’s room where his wife Shashi was sitting with producer N N Sippy, Sadhana and her parents. “Even as we watched wide-eyed, he chucked the file he was holding in one hand into the burning fireplace, saying, ‘There goes the original script, we don’t need it anymore’, then, waving the sheaf of papers in his other hand, added, ‘Pandit ji will write a new one for us,’” recounts the actor who from that day was frantically writing between shots. “Raj Khosla would stroll across to enquire how far I had progressed, and when told I’d finished half a scene, would insist we shoot that much, before I returned to complete it. I not only wrote the script and acted in the film, I even gave it its intriguing title and designed an eye-catching poster which had me with my back to the camera and Sadhana facing it,” informs Manoj Kumar saab.

Another star of the ‘60s, Biswajit (left) also shares anecdotes from his triangular love story with Sadhana and Dharmendra, Ishq Par Zor Nahin, which released six years later in 1970. He played Amar, the only son of a millionaire shipping magnate while Dharam ji was his impoverished friend, Ram, whom he gets a job in his father’s company. He then uses his friend’s talent as a shayar to woo Sadhana ji’s Sushma, only for her to decide that she will marry Ram when she discovers that he’s the real poet. This plot was tweaked for Lawrence D’Souza’s Salman Khan, Sanjay Dutt and Maduri Dixit’s musical romance Saajan .

The original love story ended in flames, literally. In the climax, shot aboard a ship, Biswajit da’s father (Abhi Bhattacharya) shoots at the fuel tank, and within minutes, there’s fire around the ship as the spilled petrol burns. Playing the sacrificial hero, Amar jumps into the sea, grabs a lifeboat and sends Ram and Sushma to safety, but loses his own life.

“To everyone’s horror, despite all the precautions we had taken, the blaze suddenly went out of control. There were no fire brigades around to douse the leaping flames that encircled me, and like everyone else present, I too believed that the reel life tragedy would happen for real when the film’s action director threw a chain into the water, and instructed me to grab it, saying I should swim underwater. Being a strong swimmer, I dived below the surface and found my way out of the fiery ring, living to tell you the story,” he signs off with a relieved laugh.

I had the guts to go up to my father and say, 'Give me my drugs back'-Sanjay Dutt in his biography

Actor Nargis Dutt shared a close relationship with Sanjay. When she came out of coma after three months, the first person she asked for, was her son. File pic
An excerpt from a new biography on Sanjay Dutt revisits the time when the troubled actor struggled with substance abuse, even as his mother, Nargis, lay in coma at a hospital in New York
MID-DAY (March 18, 2018)

Nargis Dutt fighting for life, Sunil Dutt shatters' screamed the headline of film weekly Screen India. "We were in a state of panic," said Sanjay [Dutt]. "We couldn't believe that this was actually happening to us. It was a crazy nightmare. Something that happened in films or in novels or to someone else... When dad signed the papers giving the doctors permission to operate [on] Mom, I dreaded the fact that it could mean he was signing her death certificate. It was horrible!"

As Nargis's severe internal bleeding continued, the doctors had to open her up to stop the haemorrhaging. But her body couldn't take it and Nargis went into a coma. The doctors suggested more surgery but feared Nargis might die on the operating table. Sunil [Dutt] felt helpless. He was all alone and didn't want to take these decisions unilaterally. He asked all three children to come to New York immediately.

Knowing how critical his mother's condition was, Sanjay had tried to drop his drug habit for a few days. But the withdrawal symptoms were too painful to bear. So while the Dutt family was going through hell, Sanjay was resorting to substance abuse every now and then. The drugs had complete control over him and made him do reckless things. When he had to go to the US with his sisters, he wondered how he would keep his supply going. He didn't want to go into withdrawal again. What Sanjay did next still makes him sick to the stomach. "When I think about it I can't believe it. I carried something like thirty grams of heroin in my shoes, and my sisters were with me," he recalled in a TV interview.

Sanjay has no memory of how he walked through immigration and customs and got out. What if he was caught? It would have been catastrophic for the Dutts at an already precarious time. The three siblings went straight to the hospital. Nargis was on life support, hooked to numerous tubes and machines. Sanjay was speechless seeing his mother like that. His eyes brimmed with tears. "The only thing left for us to do was to pray," says Sanjay. "We found a gurdwara, a masjid and a mandir in New York City. All the doctors used to laugh at us. Dr Fortner even told us that if Mom survived, he would convert himself into a Hindu."

Sunil Dutt prayed constantly. He would circle the hospital building, doing endless parikramas in prayer. Every morning Sunil Dutt and the kids used to go to the hospital from their rented apartment in the city hoping for some good news. But Nargis did not come out of coma. There was nothing the Dutts could do. Days would pass in a blur of hospital duties. If someone made a valiant attempt to rally the others, a stray tear would slip and pull everyone back down. "All of us were crying. Dad had gone berserk... At that moment I wanted nothing in the world - no money, no films, no stardom, no glamour, no guns, no friends - only my mother... How could I sit there and watch her go away? I was so helpless, I felt impotent," said Sanjay.

The trauma was too much to bear and Sanjay would try to retreat into his drug-induced cocoon. "I used to hide the heroin under the bed in the apartment in New York, and one day I couldn't find it. I came to know that dad had it. And I had the guts to go up to him and say, 'Give me my drugs back.'" Sanjay's behaviour shook Sunil to his core. Sanjay later recalled with deep regret that he was even disallowed from donating blood for his mother because of his addiction.

The family was in New York City for months, but Sanjay had to return to Mumbai to finish Rocky. "I couldn't believe I had to come back and finish Rocky, sing a song and do all that stuff when my mother was in coma. But the show has to go on," he later said. Gulshan Rai, the producer of Rocky, was jittery that the project was stuck and the dates that the actors had earmarked for the film were going to waste. Sunil had to ask his film-maker friend Raj Khosla to step in as director of the film. Patiently, over several phone calls, he explained all the scenes to Raj, shot by shot, and requested him to take on the film where he had left it.

As the months passed, Nargis underwent seven surgeries in total. The doctors would frequently tell the family to "let her go away in peace". But Sunil and the children refused to give up on Nargis. And then a miracle happened. Sunil used to lovingly hold Nargis's hand for hours on end. One day he felt her pressing his hand. Almost three months after she went into coma, Nargis opened her eyes. Everyone in the hospital started calling her "the miracle lady of Sloan Kettering".

When she came out of coma, the first thing she asked was, "Where is Sanju?" Sunil proffered an excuse and phoned Sanjay to take the first flight out of Mumbai. When Sanjay finally arrived, Sunil told Nargis he had a surprise for her. "She closed her eyes and I walked in and I just said 'Ma?'" Sanjay said. "Her face just changed. She was so happy - she was crying and she held me. Her hands were shaking. She just wanted to come back home." Nargis was desperate to catch up and wanted to know everything about what was going on in Sanjay's life and career. Most of all, she was really looking forward to finally seeing Rocky.

Excerpted with permission from Sanjay Dutt: The Crazy Untold Story of Bollywood's Bad Boy by Yasser Usman, published by Juggernaut Books

Ranbir Kapoor is playing Dutt in a biopic on the actor's controversial life. The movie, which is being directed by Rajkumar Hirani, is slated to release in June this year

Every weekend, Vinod Khanna & I would drive down to Osho’s ashram in his white Mercedes-Mahesh Bhatt


Mahesh Bhatt (MID-DAY; April 28, 2017)

My earliest memory of Vinod is from the sets of Raj Khosla’s Mera Gaon Mera Desh (1971) , where I was the third assistant, and he was making his debut as a villain — Jabbar Singh, not Gabbar Singh! At the very first shot of the film where Vinod dismounts a horse, kicks open a door, and draws his gun out, Raj Khosla said the prophetic words, “This guy will set this nation ablaze.” As an assistant who was entrusted to attend to actor’s needs, we became very close right from the beginning — even while he was a rising star, and I was a struggling nobody. When the opportunity came for me to direct a film, it was a foregone conclusion in my head that he would agree to star in it, although the movie, ironically titled Mukti, got shelved, for financial reasons.

The loss of Vinod’s mother, who he was extremely close to, had jolted him to seek answers to existential questions of life — who are we, where are we coming from, and where are we going. I introduced him to ‘Bhagwan Rajneesh’, so he could find solace in the Godman’s tips. I was already a sanyasi by then. Every weekend, Vinod and I would drive down to Osho’s ashram (in Pune) in his white Mercedes, meditate for hours, listen to the Godman’s discourse, read books on Sufism, Nanak, the Gita… Those were intoxicating days.

As an actor, Vinod immediately fit the demands of the times. He was extremely good-looking by the standards of the film industry. Women would swoon over his physique, charm, and charisma. Men would look up to him for the obvious machismo. He remained the only contender who could take on the might of Amitabh Bachchan, or perhaps even dethrone him in the '70s. This was the prevailing narrative. And this is why, if you notice, whenever Vinod did a film with Big B — Hera Pheri (1976), Amar Akbar Anthony (1977), Khoon Pasina (1977), Parvarish (1977), Muqaddar Ka Sikander (1978) — audiences instantly lapped it up. They were a delight to watch together.

But much beyond his ambition or determination to succeed as an actor, Vinod had an adventurous spirit. What kind of person would gamble his stardom to seek enlightenment? He packed off at the peak of his career to become a gardener in Osho’s ashram in Oregon. It was considered a suicidal move by the industry. By the time he returned in the '80s, India and its movies had altogether changed. I did Jurm (1990) upon his return from the ‘circus’. Many people still remember that film for the song, Jab koi baat bigad jaaye.

Vinod was basically a man who celebrated life. His spiritual guru also encouraged sensual pursuits, and he thirsted for life’s answers. Over years, while we differed on our views on politics, spirituality and God, and drifted apart, we still stayed in touch. I’ll never forget the time he once called me over to meet him at Filmistaan Studio, Goregaon. I was no more Osho’s disciple — having figured that all I had received from the Godman were words; nothing had changed within me. Vinod was worried for me because the news of me flushing my Osho mala (prayer beads) down the commode had reached the Godman. He wanted to protect me from the wrath of ‘God’. It’s at moments like these that one unwittingly reveals their love and affection. Behind that tough exterior of a hero was a largehearted man, who could cry easily at the sight of suffering, and was generous to a fault. Vinod, to me, is not the person I’ll remember from flickering images of the silver screen. He touched my life, and changed its course. People don’t cease to exist because they die. They continue to breathe within you. As Vinod will — until I die.

Mahesh Bhatt directed Vinod Khanna in Lahu Ke Do Rang (1979), Jurm (1990) and Maarg (1992) 

(As told to Mayank Shekhar)

John Abraham would give his right hand to work with me-Mahesh Bhatt


Mahesh Bhatt on the importance of introducing newcomers and the need to keep away from established actors
Chaya Unnikrishnan (DNA; January 22, 2015)

Indefatigable in his quest for new talent, Mahesh Bhatt continues to give the industry fresh faces both on screen and behind the camera. His latest offering Khamoshiyaan has relative newcomers Ali Fazal, Sapna Pabbi and TV actor Gurmeet Choudhary making his film debut. The film is directed by yet another debutant Karan Darra. Here, he talks about his upcoming film, the need to work with newcomers, cinema of today and what is missing. Excerpts...

Your film has got an ‘A’ certificate. Are you okay with it?
Actually, I am very happy that we have finally come of age. There was a time when films were given ‘A’ certificate, and mutilated. I used to feel very bad about how disrespectful we are as a nation to adults who we feel are not capable of seeing the kind of content we make in Hindi cinema. In this age of Internet, the content that individuals can access is far more shocking and mindboggling compared to what we can put on screen. In such an age, our cinema is far behind. We have a censor code and we can only go so far, and not beyond the prescribed limit. I appreciate the efforts by CBFC keeping in time with changing values. In the last 10 years, more changes have taken place than 3000 years ago.

Won’t the certificate affect the selling of satellite rights?
No, because there is a separate toned-down version for TV, just like the way airlines have a modified version because all age groups are there. Images and sounds not ideal for universal consumption are deleted and made suitable for wholesome consumption.

Tell us about the casting.
The credit goes to Karan Darra. He saw Sapna Pabbi in 24 when he was recuperating from dengue in Kokilaben Dhirubhai Ambani hospital. He liked her and wanted to cast her. Even Ali (Fazal) was his idea in fact he insisted that we cast him. The youthful look of the film is because of him. Gurmeet (Choudhary) was recommended by Mukesh Bhatt’s wife, who is an avid TV viewer.

Khamoshiyan is an erotic thriller...
I would like to believe it is the reinvention of the same idiom that we discovered in the 21st century with Raaz. However, instead of a man in the centre with two women, here there’s a woman with two men. It’s a triangular drama with some sprinkling of the supernatural. Somebody aptly described the film as a supernatural and love story movie side-by-side, a difficult feat for a writer-director to achieve. The film is essentially the story of an author who goes in search of his next book, stumbles upon a woman with complications and a paranormal relationship.

What is it about newcomers that attracts you?
I prefer to work with newcomers because of their zeal and enthusiasm. We talk about new people and yet work with the old ones. We need to be brave and dare to work with fresher talent. Otherwise, your quest for safety and security makes you repetitive. You are like a frog stuck in a little cesspool.

You rarely work even with the ones you have introduced and are established...
That’s because I am always looking for new people and my commitment to them is absolute. Old people come back to work with us but we don’t lean on them. That can have a crippling impact. You launch a new person, and he/she becomes a star because of the overwhelming support and it can become a dicey situation for your own psychological and economic safety. That’s where your own fire to find people starts diminishing.

You must be proud of the people you’ve introduced...
Yes. Everyone from Anupam Kher, Nadeem Shravan, Mohit Suri, Vikram Bhatt, Anurag Basu, Bipasha Basu, Pooja Bhatt, the list is endless. Besides, there are innumerable technicians like Saeed Qadri, singers Rahat Fateh Ali Khan and Atif Aslam. But they become stars because of what they have inherently. My company helps them flower.

Do actors you’ve introduced want to work with you again?
Yes, John (Abraham) keeps sending me messages that he would give his right arm to work with me after Jism. Ajay (Devgn) and I did an exceptional film (Zakhm). He, too, messages me. That is their way of expressing affection, but it doesn’t mean I should land up at their doorstep the next day and say, ‘Let’s do a film!’.

Music’s been a hallmark of your films...
I learnt this from my boss Raj Khosla. An Indian film with great music has more chances of sailing home to safety. I feel this is a lesson we learnt very early in the 90s with Aashiqui. Ever since then, we have been adhering to this formula, though it’s very difficult. Now, music comes from various sources instead of one person. It’s a collective view of a song. Music is a good precursor for a film. For instance, there is awareness of Khamoshiyan. It is going to open well and with the kind of mathematics we have, it will romp home by the weekend.

Your take on the new generation of actors?
They have a superior understanding and are more cinema-literate. Performances are exceptional. They are head and shoulders above the previous generations. But it takes time to groom people and nudge them to their own potential.

Will we ever see you directing a film again?
No, I am doing this job with great excitement. It is comforting and fulfilling to create destinies rather than films because movies have a shelf life. Human lives touch other human lives. I am taking a balcony view and playing a far more challenging job than merely directing.

Among the newbies, see anyone with the passion that you had?
I don’t think you should humiliate the present generation by the yardstick of yesterday. We were the by-products of that time. There are young filmmakers who are very passionate and creating their own idioms. I look forward to Mohit Suri’s Hamari Adhuri Kahani.

Your thoughts about the subjects being made today, considering you made films that were ahead of their time?
Well, I don’t see that kind of human drama exploring the heart in all its complexities in the times we live in. There is an urgent need to return to that and I am glad I have done that with Hamari Adhuri Kahani, which I have written.

Your thoughts on Alia Bhatt...
Alia is in the driving seat. She is self-made and created her own brand. She is a self-sufficient girl of today, a star in her own right. I am proud of what she has achieved without her father’s help. She is really a chip of the old block!

What was your reaction to Pooja Bhatt separating from her husband Manish Makhija?
She is the captain of her fate. It’s her life. She decides I stand by her decision.

Manoj Kumar speaks about ghost writing and directing Woh Kaun Thi

Mr Bharat’s Rock Hudson act
Roshmilla Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; December 16, 2014)

On October 18, 1962, around 2 am, Manoj Kumar's eldest son Vishal Goswami, was born. The beaming first-time dad returned home to find a letter waiting for him. It was from N N Sippy. The congratulatory message hinted that the producer wanted to meet the actor again.

"Nari Sippy (as N N Sippy was fondly called) had previously approached me with a couple of film offers. But despite two superhits, Hariyali Aur Rasta and Grahasti, my career hadn't taken off and this had made me cautious. So, I had decided to sign a film only if I was confident about the story, director and the set-up," recalls Manoj Kumar. He admits he wasn't too pleased to find Sippy and screenplay writer Dhruva Chatterjee waiting for him at the Holy Family Hospital when he went to check on his wife Shashi and their newborn son.

This time it was difficult to shake off a persistent Sippy who requested the actor not to focus too much on project details. "Beta paida hua hai, put your faith in his kismet and give your nod to my film," he urged, and Manoj Kumar, moved by his emotional words, obliged.

Soon after, Raj Khosla came on board to direct the psychological thriller that revolved around a doctor who is the heir to an inheritance, a mysterious woman who waylays him on a rainy night, turns up dead in an eerie mansion, then returns as his wife. Manoj Kumar had suggested the title, Woh Kaun Thi?, and after hours of brainstorming had come up with Sadhana's name to play his leading lady. The actress had seen his films and was keen to work with him. But, she pointed out that since she was also going through a low phase in her career, commercially they wouldn't be a viable jodi.

"Shooting was to start on January 22, 1963, in Shimla. Leaving behind my two-month-old son, I took off for Delhi where I waited till January 18, wondering about my leading lady. I was so relieved when I saw Sadhana at the station," he recalls.

Once they reached the location, he started reading the scenes and wasn't impressed. Since it was an important film for him and he had the time, Manoj Kumar started rewriting the script. By evening, he had reworked 10-12 scenes, and hesitantly gave them to the director.

"Sadhana, her parents, the rest of the cast were sitting around that evening when Raj Khosla entered with the original script in one hand and the one I had rewritten in the other. He threw what had been written earlier into the fire and pointing towards me announced that I would be writing the film," reminisces the actor.

Thereafter, between shots, he'd be writing frantically on the sets. "After a while Raj Khosla would walk over and ask, 'Panditji Maharaj, kahan tak pahunche?' If I'd finished half a scene, he'd shoot that much, then let me return to my writing," says the actor, adding that in his later interviews Khosla would often refer to him as his 'half guru and half chela'.

He didn't get credit for his ghost writing or for having ghost directed a scene. It happened when they were shooting in Kufri near Shimla. Looking for snow, Manoj Kumar wandered down to the valley below and returned excitedly to tell Khosla that they should shift base. Khosla confessed that he turned dizzy when looking down and requested the actor to can the shots for him. He was happy to oblige.

According to Nari Sippy's brother, Gul, Manoj Kumar was involved in all departments— from screenplay and dialogue writing to acting and editing. "He would sit with the editor through the night and even accompany me to Tardeo to look at the hoarding. He also suggested the poster design," Gul informs.

It was Manoj Kumar's idea to focus on Sadhana's face in the poster while only his back is seen. "It helped build up the suspense that got people hooked," he reasons.

Madan Mohan's music was another crowd-puller with evergreen hits like Naina barse rimjhim rimjhim and Lag jaa gale. The latter is one of Lata Mangeshkar's personal favourites. Yet, it almost didn't get featured in the film. The director had rejected the song much to the distress of the music director who then made an SOS call to Manoj Kumar.

He hesitatingly fixed up another sitting with Madan Mohan for Sippy and Khosla. He went half-an-hour before the meeting and listened to the song. "It was mesmerising and when Raj arrived, I told him to listen to it a couple of times. He did, silently, then picking up his shoe started hitting himself on the head wondering how he, a singer with a keen ear for music, could have turned down this song," says the actor.

The black-and-white film released in 1964 was a superhit. Manoj Kumar went on to act in two more suspense thrillers, Gumnaam (1966) and Anita (1967). Ask him whether he was surprised by Woh Kaun Thi?'s success and he insists that he wasn't. He recalls how after the film's premiere, Dara Singh, who he'd seen triumph in the akhadas of Delhi, congratulated him saying, "You are a wrestler."

Equally impressed was master filmmaker Mehboob Khan. He referred to Khosla as the Alfred Hitchcock of India. "He called me India's Rock Hudson and asked both of us to see him in his studio soon," smiles Manoj Kumar, relishing the moment even after half-a-century.