One look at Madhuri Dixit Nene, Indian cinema's timeless icon, and you're struck by her seemingly effortless perfection, the radiant smile, unmatched grace, and captivating screen presence. Yet, a conversation with her reveals a different perspective. The celebrated actor believes that true strength lies not in perfection, but in embracing one's flaws.

In a candid conversation with Bombay Times, Madhuri spoke about her recent film, Maa Behen, directed by Suresh Triveni, and how Hindi cinema's portrayal of mothers has evolved over the years. Excerpts...

When we think of mothers in Indian cinema, the first name that comes to mind is Nargis ji in Mother India. Then there are iconic performances by actors such as Rohini Hattangadi in Agneepath, Nirupa Roy in Deewaar, and Rakhee Gulzar in Karan Arjun and Ram Lakhan. These characters were powerful and memorable, but they were also idealized. Mothers were often placed on a pedestal. They couldn't do anything wrong. They were expected to sacrifice everything for their children. What struck me about Maa Behen was its realistic approach. My character isn't the ideal mother or wife. She's independent, chaotic, and imperfect. Despite belonging to a dysfunctional family where everyone is constantly at odds, she deeply loves her children and will do anything for them when it truly matters.

As you mentioned, there's a moment when she tells her daughters, "Main jail jaaungi toh tumko lekar jaaungi." That's not something you'd traditionally hear from a cinematic mother. Characters today feel more real and relatable. These are women you encounter in everyday life. Everyone is flawed, and flaws are wonderful. We all have rough edges, and I'm glad cinema is finally embracing that reality.

Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. And honestly, imperfection is power. I don't believe perfection truly exists. No one can be perfect. My journey has always been about striving for excellence, about trying to give my best in everything I do. The pursuit itself is what fascinates me. The process of constantly learning, improving, and challenging yourself is far more meaningful than achieving some impossible standard of perfection.

There is certainly a sense of freedom in the OTT space because you're not bound by commercial expectations. It is more relaxing. You're not worrying about how many crores a film or series will earn. The pressure of delivering a blockbuster doesn’t hang on your head. Instead, the focus shifts to creating something meaningful and engaging, something audiences genuinely enjoy watching. The goal is to tell compelling stories and create content that feels relatable and authentic.

I want to explore characters that are different from anything I've done before. I enjoy challenges, whether it's learning a new dialect, stepping into unfamiliar territory, or portraying someone completely unlike myself. Anything that pushes me out of my comfort zone and makes me feel vulnerable, fascinates me as an actor. That's where growth happens. I have no reservations about playing any role, as long as it is well-written and offers something meaningful to explore.

Rakhee Gulzar attended a press conference at IFFI for her upcoming Bengali film Amar Boss (2024). When asked about her return to films after a long time, she initially refused to comment, saying, “I will not say anything about it.”

After repeated questions, she said, “I have not come back. I have not gone anywhere. I am there. I am still in the film industry. My daughter is there, I know who is doing what, who is upcoming, I keep track. But choosing a film to do – I will do that. Nobody can force me. I wanted to do this film; I did it. Usmein aap koi bhi lollipop de do toh nahi chalega chahe woh paisa ho, chahe woh kuch aur ho, it’s not going to work. First, give me the subject. The main important factor is subject.”

Sharing one of the reasons she hasn’t been doing films, the veteran actress said, “Aur ek darr tha – new technology. Hamare time ka camera, sound – ye sab alag tha. Jab main meri beti Meghna (director Meghna Gulzar) ko dekhti hoon – tab mujhe darr lagta hai – main kar sakungi kya? Ghabra gayi thi main. Main uss zamane se hoon jahan director, cameraman, sound recordist even the lightmen and the total unit would be together. Otherwise, it wouldn’t work.”

She elaborated on how technology has changed, saying, “It’s very easy for them, but for me, to digest and take it like that – it was a little difficult.”

Gulzar’s home in Mumbai is called Boskyana, and it’s named after his daughter Meghna, whom he lovingly calls Bosky. “The core of my existence remains my daughter,” says the celebrated poet, lyricist, screenwriter and director, who was feted with the Jnanpith award earlier this year.

“I had already imagined becoming a father to a girl child much before she arrived. Once she was born, she became the apple of both our eyes – her mother Rakhee and me. Rakhee was a working mother, and I would take on the role of both a father and mother when she was away on shoots. I believe there is a strong maternal side within me. I remember how she was upset with her caretaker on one occasion because she wanted two plaits. This is why I learnt to braid her hair,” remembers Gulzar, sitting in his cosy library, sipping on green tea.

When it was time to put Meghna in school, she was taken to a kindergarten that she loved so much that she didn’t want to leave it, though other schools were available in the Bandra-Khar area.

Gulzar shares, “We decided to admit her there. Later, I found that it was run by actor Pran’s daughter. I also loved taking her along to buy books – be it from the stores or on the pavement. Once, when she was still a child, she confidently asked the shopkeeper if he had Hans Christian Andersen’s book of fairy tales. The man was surprised that a child was familiar with the author’s name!”

Talking about how Meghna grew up to become a confident young woman, who made her own decisions, he says, “She and her friends decided to join St Xavier’s College and her mother was worried how she would travel. But she learnt to take the train instead of going by car. I wish she had taken to sports, but her interest lay in dramatics. She also met her then-boyfriend and now husband Govind during that time. Like the daughters from film families, she started getting movie offers, though she wanted to complete her studies. I found out about her interest in filmmaking after she started assisting Saeed Mirza,” he recalls.

When it came to going abroad, Meghna had already decided on an institution and did not allow either parent to recommend her anywhere. “Both she and Govind moved to America. Both Govind’s parents and we knew they would marry someday and did not pressurize them,” Gulzar says.

He will turn 90 this year, but the ability to see the humorous side of life hasn’t left Gulzar. “There is the famous story of the cat and the tiger. The cat teaches the tiger all sorts of survival skills, but finally, the tiger pounces on the cat. Seeing the danger, the cat climbs a tree and escapes – and the tiger realizes that he’s not been taught this skill. Meghna learnt all the other skills I have on her own, but even today, when it comes songwriting for her films, she comes to me. She does not let me read her scripts before they are ready, but I’m proud of her journey from Filhaal to Sam Bahadur. The best gift she has given me is my grandson, Samay Gulzar Sandhu,” he tells us.

“Though both my parents are famous people, I’ve had a very normal upbringing. It was nothing like today’s celebrity kids. They were always very present, and I never felt that either of them was not there for me. It isn’t easy for a father to raise a daughter, but he would tie my sash and do my pigtails just the way I wanted them. He would hold me from the back when I went cycling down the slope… these are precious memories. My parents raised me in a way that I could make my own choices and live with them. It was equal parenting and positive reinforcement – that’s how I would describe it,” says Meghna.

She adds, “Though my father writes my film’s songs, he keeps egging me on to write my own songs. I think in English, so when one of my films needs lyrics in English, I do my own writing as well. I am a headstrong director, and as a lyricist, he always offers me that space and courtesy. I hope my son, Samay, imbibes the same values, though he is developing his own personality. Samay and he share a unique bond that’s independent of me or my husband.”

Gulzar with his music composer friend R D Burman and Asha Bhosle. Pic courtesy/Gulzar; Actually... I Met Them

The first rule of journalism is to remain objective, always—something, this generation of “news-breakers” are already grappling with. But, speaking with veteran film director-lyricist-poet-author Gulzar for the third time now, this writer’s struggle has never seemed more real. We can’t really put a finger on why that’s the case. Though, we must admit that when we were two years old, Lakdi Ki Kathi from the film Masoom (1983) was played on loop on our TV set — the number of rewinds terribly reduced the life of the video cassette—as the song made our toddler self dance with glee. We didn’t of course know then that Gulzar had penned it. Later, it was the ghazals that he wrote — the album Marasim (2000) being a personal favourite — that preoccupied our teenage heart. So, when the octogenarian, who is blessed with a razor-sharp memory, remembers our meeting from four years ago at his Pali Hill bungalow, we can’t help but smile. Since this time, our conversation is over telephone, we allow this slip. That’s also where we cut-short the impulses of the inner-fan. We are back to discussing his book, a new memoir, which is also several years old. Confusing?

Over three decades ago, Gulzar was approached by Sanchari Mukherjee, then a journalist with a Bengali newspaper’s Sunday edition, for a new column series. “She wanted me to write about my experience of working with veterans from the film fraternity. I told her that’s typical Filmfare [magazine] material. But, she kept insisting,” recalls the 87-year-old.

Gulzar eventually told her that he’d speak about his many interactions with those who had influenced his work. “We managed to work it out. She would fly down to Mumbai, and cover columns for two editions at one time, and leave for Kolkata the same evening. I would narrate my experiences in Bangla, Hindu, Urdu, English and hand gestures, and she’d put it all down in Bangla. She would later send the final piece, and I’d make a few edits, before it got published,” he shares.

This went on for some time, until Mukherjee “went the family way”. The column ended soon after, but took on a new life as a book in Bengali called Panta Bhate, which means “in fermented rice”, a phrase he used in one of his films. Gulzar, however, was adamant about not having it published in English, because he saw himself making new additions to this diverse cast of celebrated artistes mentioned in the original compilation. “The wave of thoughts kept churning, but I never sat down to write. This continued and time passed by.”

It was only recently when Premanka Goswami, the executive editor at the publishing house behind his book, mentioned how he wanted to translate Panta Bhate, and that he knew someone, who had worked on the first two chapters that Gulzar, in a first, re-considered the option. But that was only because the translation by Maharghya Chakraborty had bowled him over. “He had done such a good job, and had remained authentic to the text. I realised that even if I write more, it would not be in the same style.”

His new memoir, Actually… I Met Them (Penguin Random House), though an old one, will thus, for the first time, be read by non-Bangla readers. In essence, they are intimate sketches of doyens who shaped Gulzar’s early decades in cinema—from Bimal Roy, Kishore Kumar, RD Burman, Satyajit Ray, Pandit Ravi Shankar, Sanjeev Kumar to Suchitra Sen and Sharmila Tagore. “Most of them are Bengalis, and [while working on this book] I realised the extent of my collaboration with them,” says Gulzar, who considers himself as much a Bengali, as he’s Punjabi, and has also taught himself to write and speak the language.

The one Bengali who, however, doesn’t have an entire chapter dedicated to her is actress Rakhee Gulzar. He mentions her often through the book—the first time he set eyes on her, the love letters they exchanged, the pranks she pulled on him, driving away with his car with friends to eat paani puri—but beyond that “I am very shy when it comes to writing about my wife.”. We can almost hear him blush over the phone.

When it came to naming the memoir, the celebrated poet says he picked up the last sentence of the introductory note that he wrote for the book. “I find it hard to believe that all these people lived in the same era, and that I had the chance to work with most of them. Sometimes, I have to convince myself that I actually met them.”

These vignettes are unlike any other we’ve read—they aren’t short biographies, neither are they profiles. They are reflections of personal and private moments between two artistes, and show them in new light. Most moving is his relationship with Pancham (R D Burman). When the music composer passed away in 1994, Gulzar writes that “a large part of me departed with Pancham; the Gulzar that remains now is but half-complete”.

“Before my career as director took off, I had written only one song with his [Pancham] father [S D Burman]… my song-writing journey began when Pancham was an assistant with his father, and I, an assistant director. He used to come to our office holding the dugga [the left tabla]. While the grown-ups would continue their discussions, we would go out to take a stroll. A deep friendship formed between us, and I began writing more songs for him. The way I wrote when with Pancham, can’t be recreated. We grew together in this journey. When he died, I lost both that friendship and creativity [we shared],” he tells us.

Gulzar also writes about his disappointment of not being able to complete the script for Amritakumbher Sandhane that Bimal Roy and he were working on, as the former died of cancer. Another huge regret was not being able to land the opportunity to work with Satyajit Ray, an institution in himself. “It would have been like going back to college, and I missed that chance. Another person I wanted to assist was Shyam Benegal, because I admired his modern, new cinema greatly. I requested him twice actually, but he laughed it off,” says Gulzar, being absolutely modest.

 He admits he has always been curious about cinema and never shied away from learning. In fact, he tells us that in the early 1980s, by which time his body of work included big hits like Aandhi, Parichay and Mausam, he wanted to study at the Film and Television Institute of India. “I was making Namkeen at the time. I approached Hrishi da [Hrishikesh Mukherjee] who was the examiner at the institute, and asked if there was a possibility of doing a three-year course there.”

He remembers being scoffed at. “Hrishi da said, ‘Huh! Who will write for my films then?’ He joked that grown-ups and married people weren’t allowed here.”

If and when Gulzar writes a Part 2 of this memoir, which he says he will, there will be certain colleagues that he definitely won’t forget to mention. A R Rahman, Vishal Bhardwaj, Shaad Ali, and his daughter Meghna Gulzar. “It might feel like I am boasting. But, I am very, very proud of her [Meghna]. She has really surpassed my filmmaking. Our generation made good films, but we weren’t the original authors — our works were inspired by other literary stalwarts. The new crop of filmmakers author their own films. Cinema after all is about your own expression, commitment and statement.”

Feted, felicitated and much-loved writer, film maker, poet, author and lyricist Gulzar has many facets to his personality. His daughter Meghna Gulzar is three films old, her latest being the muchtalked about Talvar , which recently premiered at the 40th Toronto Film Festival (TIFF). In a candid conversation with us, the father-daughter duo speaks on their professional and personal equation.

Gulzar saab, please tell us about your contribution to Talvar?
I must tell you an interesting story. An alley cat taught a tiger how to hunt and actually go for the kill. After learning the technique, the first person the tiger attacked was the cat. She was smart. To save her life, she climbed a tree. The tiger stood below, looking at the cat and said, “Hey , but you didn't teach me this.“ To which the cat replied, “I could foresee that this is exactly what you would do once you mastered the killing technique. Hence, I didn't teach you this last trick.'' (Laughs) Likewise, I taught Meghna how to pen screenplay, dialogues and script etc. She knows direction and post-production. Now she has become a tigress. But, I didn't teach her how to write songs. So, she still has to depend on me (the cat in this context) for that aspect. I write songs for her films and that is my contribution to her cinema. It is challenging to write songs for her. When she wants something, no one can make her change her mind. She has a passion for movie making. This time around both Vishal (Bhardwaj) and I had to deliver. Sometimes she didn't like the tune, if she liked the tune, she didn't like the lyrics. She is hard to please. Vishal and I had to keep working continuously to present different versions to director sahiba.
Meghna: Papa would hum some words and Vishal sir would compose a tune around it. They would only come to me when it was nearly ready. So, I told them both, “Hello, please include me in your song-making sessions.'' It is a treat to watch them work. When they are working together, there is so much that is left unsaid. Vishal is humming and dad is able to know where the tune is going and throw words at him accordingly. It is not a director thing; it's a purely selfish thing. I wanted to be in that experience.

Gulzar saab, had you followed the Aarushi Talwar case when it happened in May 2008?
I had seen Meghna meticulously making newspaper cuttings of the case. Her involvement and fascination for the subject automatically rubbed onto me. I, too, started taking a keen interest in the subject. I would see her jotting down notes. That is how I followed the case. I knew Meghna was researching the subject. If I came across any snippet or report on the Aarushi Talwar murder case, I would quickly cut it and give it to her. I have seen Vishal and her do a thorough job.

Sir, have you seen a growth in Meghna's graph as a director?
Yes from Filhaal to now, her graph has seen a steady rise. What I like about her is that she is so focussed. She knows exactly what she wants. I have seen her handling her unit also. It so happened that she was shooting in Delhi and she expressed to me that she was missing her son Samay. So her husband Govind, my grandson Samay and I went to the shoot. You know, as a filmmaker, I must tell you that handling a machine is different but handling human beings needs a special tact. I was impressed with the way Meghna did that. I also have deep admiration for her unit. Her cameraman (Pankaj Kumar) is a good listener. He would patiently hear her out before executing the shot. Another assistant who was very attentive and helpful was a guy called Honey. I guess his name is Honey because he is so sweet. Meghna has made documentaries for Saeed Akhtar Mirza. So I know she knows her job. However, in the case of Talvar, this kind of maturity comes only when you have been deeply involved with the project. Like any parent, I, too, was anxious about her. But now I'm less worried because she has taken a step ahead of me. She has actually beaten me to it. None of my films have had a premiere at Toronto or at any other international festival.
Meghna: Papa, you have won an Oscar.
Gulzar: (Chuckles) Now let's see how you achieve that. However, I have made so many movies and I have not been invited to any international film festival. I even got the Dadasaheb Phalke Award but none of my films have had a foreign premiere. As a filmmaker, I'm very happy and confident of this girl's growth.

Gulzar saab, what did you think of Talvar?
Talvar is an important social comment. Everyone knows that the law has long hands; however, no one knew that the law travels through a narrow alley. That is how the song came in, Patli gali aana. I must say that we have good laws, we have a good judiciary but our system of implementing laws is something like what is shown in Talvar. Meghna has put her finger on this. It is not a murder thriller. It is much more. That is why I feel the audience has to be prepared for it. You are not going to see a thriller in which bullets are flying. I'm also happy that the producers of this film (Vineet Jain and Vishal Bhardwaj) had conviction in the story that they were making and have allowed Meghna to make the film the way she knew best.

Meghna, speak about your key cast.
I must start with Tabu. By now everyone knows that she is not playing Aarushi's aunt. She has a special appearance in the film. Though I have made movies in the past, this time around, I felt like I was starting over probably because the genre was new to me. And I couldn't have done this without Tabu. It was gracious of her to accept the small part. The actual shooting was a breeze. It was like two friends (she and I) were catching up for lunch. It was as casual as that.

In sharp contrast, is Irrfan sir who is very tricky. You are well aware that Talvar presents multiple viewpoints on the Aarushi murder case. He plays an investigative officer and till today, I have no idea which side of the story he believes. Throughout the making he was playing the devil's advocate. Every time he would have to do a scene he would question--what if this had transpired like this and not like this? It took me a while to understand that he was asking so many questions so that he could plug all the holes. He took in all the information and then delivered his performance. Irrfan sir has given an evolved performance. The way he has conveyed his sense of restlessness and his appearing distracted, etc. are all things which he has put into his character. This can only happen when an actor internalises not just the part but the entire film.
Gulzar: Irrfan has portrayed the character so beautifully.
Meghna: Neeraj Kabi sir and Konkona (Sen Sharma) have the toughest job in the film because they both play the guilty and the damned. And they have to do both these things convincingly. Moreover, they had to do everything twice over. But I must tell you that their approach as actors was diametrically opposite. There was Konkona (Koko) who would ask what the scene is, seek a few clarifications and say, 'Cool, let's go'. If it was an intense scene, she would cry and when I called cut, she would be smiling with her eyes shining bright. Neeraj sir, on the other hand, is the exact opposite. After the entire briefing, he would ask for 30 seconds. Then he would stroll off to a part of the set where no one was allowed to enter. And then he would come, stand in front of the camera and give the perfect take. From the spot boys to the costume and light departments, everyone would maintain pin drop silence. Honestly, who does this for an actor anymore? I had a really good unit. Neeraj sir also didn't snap out of a shot, after I would say cut. At the end of the day, he would bid everyone goodbye and say, 'See you tomorrow'. Though Koko and Neeraj sir's style of working is diverse, you cannot tell the difference on screen because both of them have delivered pitch-perfect performances.

Meghna, were you prepared for the reactions that you got at TIFF?
Not at all. I knew Cameron Bailey, the artistic director of TIFF, was in Mumbai to look at films but we couldn't connect with him and he went back. It was another festival director who asked if we had sent Talvar to Toronto. It was after this that Vishal wrote to Cameron and we sent a screener within a short time. We had to pull up our deadline by a month. But nothing could have been more worth it than showing our film in Toronto.

How would you describe your relationship with Vishal Bhardwaj?
Meghna: Vishal has done all the rituals as my brother at my wedding. But at that time, we were not as close as we are today. Our personal equation has evolved over the years. I had done a couple of scripts with him in the past, but Talvar is actually our first full-fledged attempt at making a movie. I was to do Timbuktu and Mr Mehta And Mrs Singh for him. Both didn't materialise because I was in my world, making different kind of movies. For me, the biggest learning has been watching him as a writer. You can understand him as a filmmaker when you see his films. He always shares his scripts with dad and me. So, I know the script and I see what he does with his films. Vishal sir writes his characters beautifully. That is his biggest forte. He gives each one a texture. There will always be some distinguishing trait in each character. He brings them to life and that, for me, was a huge learning experience. He visited us on the sets just twice. It was so good to have him there because it felt like someone was standing behind you. I felt protected. Having that sense of support made me do that job better. I must explain to you, the kind of equation I share with Vishal sir. When I was explaining to Sohum Shah, who plays Irrfan sir's assistant in the film on how to approach his character visà-vis his equation to his senior (Irrfan), I gave the example of Vishal sir and me. I explained to Sohum that Vishal and I have dinner together, we crack jokes and laugh, but when he is around on the sets, I always stand there respectfully with my hands behind me and address him as sir.
Gulzar: I'm proud of how Meghna has defined her relationship with Vishal. She has described it beautifully.
Meghna: Everything about Talvar is two-sided, including the relationship between the film's writer-producer and director.

Has your mother seen this film?
Gulzar: Actually, Raakhee is even more anxious about Talvar than Meghna.
Meghna: I have shown my mother the first print that I made for India. I didn't want her to see a subtitled print. However, I had shown my father the first international print with subtitles on August 18. It was his birthday and it was my surprise gift for him.
Gulzar: It was a great gift. Every year we go out to celebrate my birthday. This time she was busy with Talvar but she told me, 'Dad, I will still give you a gift'. I'm a happy man.

Taking stock of B-Town's divorces post media reports of Hrithik Roshan and Sussanne Khan's divorce that came through over this weekend, you will notice that the rate of divorces in Tinseltown is far less than what it would ideally seem from the outside world.

Raj Kapoor was enamoured with Nargis, and Dev Anand was infatuated with Zeenat Aman; enough to make it seem like both these evergreen superstars would end their marriages. However, when it came to the crunch, neither did.

Marks must be given to their spouses Krishna Kapoor and Kalpana Kartik (Mona Anand) for maintaining the home and hearth of these men whose high-profile link-ups did rock the boat to a degree. But in the end, it was the 'sanctity' of marriage that won.

Raj Kapoor's oldest-born Randhir's own marriage hit rock-bottom a decade and a half after he married Babita in 1971. In fact, this one was a bit of a shock because Dabboo actually wooed Babita for years before tying the knot. And it did seem like their match was made in heaven. However, after Kareena's birth in September 1980, this couple saw little happiness.

But the strange bit is that even after 40 years, this couple only remains estranged not divorced. As Randhir has often said, “Babita and I didn't divorce because neither of us had plans to remarry. Whatever I have today belongs to her and my two daughters - Karisma and Kareena. Since there is no inclination to marry or sire children, I never felt the need to get officially divorced.“ His daughter Karisma Kapoor, who ruled the roost in the 90s, though, ended her decade long marriage with businessman husband Sunjay Kapur and is today locked in a custody battle with him.

Two other celebrity couples - Gulzar and Raakhee as well as Rajesh Khanna and Dimple, who married in 1973, also separated from their spouses. But, in both cases, there was no divorce talk because none of them showed signs of wanting to marry again.

In fact, Dimple stayed put by her terminally-ill husband's side in the last phase of his life; and Gulzar sahab and Raakhee bond frequently over fish curry even today. They are both crazy about daughter Meghna and their grandson Samay. Their own marriage certificate may have gathered dust; but their friendship can still warm the cockles of your heart.

It can be rightly said that just like in our mainstream cinema, most inhabitants of Bollywood too subscribe to the “we-wish-to-stay-with-one-another till death do us part.“ Unless the compulsions of a second marriage beckon, superstars in incompatible situations would rather let their relationships stay dormant than seek the divorce route.

In fact, one of the most high-profile divorces that sent shockwaves in the Hindi film industry was that of MP-politician Vinod Khanna who divorced his first wife Geetanjali Taleyarkhan (mother of Akshaye and Rahul Khanna) in 1985. Mithun Chakraborty's divorce from Helena Luke when he was in 20s went unnoticed.

And then the paparazzi went berserk when Aamir Khan and his childhood sweetheart Reena Datta ended their 15-year-old marriage in 2002. Of course, both parties ensured it was done in a very dignified fashion. And today, Aamir and Reena share a healthy relationship as they continue to co-parent their children Junaid and Ira.

Saif Ali Khan who married Amrita Singh, almost a decade his senior, divorced her in 2004. Here again, full marks to Amrita who didn't attempt to wash dirty linen in public and instead concentrated on giving full attention to her children Sarah and Ibrahim.

And if the latest from insiders is to be believed; Hrithik and Sussanne will always remain civil for the sake of their children around whom their world revolves.

STARS WHO DIVORCED
Vinod Khanna and Geetanjali Taleyarkhan: (married in 1971, divorced in 1985)
Aamir Khan and Reena Datta: (married on April 18, 1986, divorced in December 2002)
Saif Ali Khan and Amrita Singh: (married in October 1991, divorced in 2004)
Karisma Kapoor and Sanjay Kapur: (married on September 29, 2003, divorced in June 2014)
Hrithik Roshan and Sussanne Khan: (married on December 20, 2000, divorced on November 1, 2014)

STARS WHO SEPARATED
Rakhee and Gulzar (married on May 15, 1973, separated in 1975)
Rakesh Khanna and Dimple Kapadia (married in March 1973, separated in 1984)
Randhir Kapoor and Babita (married on November 6, 1971, separated in 1987)