KAHIHI

He’s an octogenarian! You won’t believe. His ecstasy could shy you away. He talks about futuristic plans. Always! Not about the achieved (archived) past. He has spelled his charm for four generations. And he is ready for the fifth. He has uncountable honours and awards to his credit. He doesn’t think much about them.

The cubs in journalism ask him about his past. They don’t know enough. The generations know him though. They loved him. He is pensive to face such cubs. He doesn’t decry. Next moment he regains. He talks about his next film.

He has tasted success. He has digested tantamount flops. He never grieves though. He never gives in either.

He projects himself as a lower middle class white-collared lover. He deviates from this image at times. Rarely though. Like a jewel thief or a doctor or a vagabond at times; a sober one or a cinema ticket black marketer. Yet at the end he is sober. Not a bit more than a gentleman. Not less.

He sings on screen. He doesn’t show his expertise. In fact, he doesn’t know how to dance. Doesn’t mind. He jumps in any manner. Again sober. He runs after the heroines. He orbits around them. He never jostles them, however. Earlier he did not touch them even. He loved them at a distance of five feet.

Audience of four generations loves his actions. The camera loves him too. It’s a gift. He doesn’t have a left side molar. The smile seeps through the gap. He knows that. Audience knows that. They like that. He knows that. He allows the smile to ooze abundantly.

He is at ultimate ease. Never differentiates among audiences. A tycoon, a ruler, an artist or a general cinema-goer; all are same for him. He behaves in a friendly manner with every one. He is a showman making no show of him. Whatsoever.

His younger brother Vijay Anand alias Goldie knew his brother’s magnetic strength. He defined role for him. He suited into them like a jewel in the throne.

He would not act in a movie without songs. He refuses flatly movies sans a song for a hero i.e. him. Without a pause. Goldie wrote song for him, apart from writing screenplays and directing. Movies for Navketan, his production house. Songs, he made immortal on screen. His screen presence was numero uno. Camera gave full justice to his image. Songs he portrayed on screen have visual perception par excellence.

Watching his song rendering has a recurring value. One can watch them a thousand times in a single go. A couple of music channels sustain on this repetitive value of his songs.

In Kala Pani, Nalini Jaywant is dancing the immortal Mujra – “Najar Lagi Raja Tore Bangley Par”. He shouts, like say an unintelligible hitherto, ‘yaak’. The public catches the moment and shouts with him.

In Jewel Thief the incidence repeats. Vaijayantimala dances her unique cobra dance – “Hothon Mein Aisi Baat Main Dabaake Chali Aayi”. He enters the floor playing a dhol (drum). ‘E..e..h..Shalooooo…’ – he calls her in between the dance. This is Goldie’s brainwork. His rendering. The full theatre breathes in. Catches the exact moment. Joins him.

Theatre of delight! Any Indian orchestra’s most favourite song. Audience of hundreds in a closed hall or thousands on open ground. They chorus – ‘E..e..h..Shalooooo…’

Tere Mere Sapne. He and Mumtaj on bicycle. Double-seat. “Eh Maine Kasam Lee, Eh Tune Kasam Lee…” – song. His face covered under the hair spread of Mumtaj, in a daffodil field. Recreating a wish to watch thousand times. They sit on bicycle again. This time, Mumtaj on backside carrier. He sings a line, looks back, sings a line, looks back, sings a line…You gaze. What else.

‘Only Indian Face with International Features’ – is his introduction around world. All kind of spectators is another introduction.

Prakash alias Pakya is a hawaldar (police) in Lalbaag. Old SSC passed. Hawaldar because he never got a job. Not even through employment exchange. Jaihind talkies in Kalachowki near Lalbaag. Pakya is on duty there. Guide is the movie.

To cope the rush owner of Jaihind talkies adds one more show in the morning at seven. Pakya buys few tickets and distributes them to his friends. Often he does so for other movies of him. The public in the morning show come putting on striped lenga, brushing their teeth.

Radio talkies near Manish market around Crawford market. The owner loves him. So he shows only his movies. A movie is started. You are late. A group of four or so. You have missed the start. The operator notices the late comers. He stops the running reels. Reverses them. The movie is restarted. The early birds get a bonus. Title song once more.

Khodad Circe of Dadar. Starting point of the road to Tilak bridge passing over Dadar station. A boy stands every evening near the signal. Looks ditto him. Smiles too. Calls himself Sevanand. He removes his molar. Tries to transude smile through the gap. People appreciate. They waive hands to him. Sheer delightful scene.

Such a hero, such fans.

He is Dev Anand. Who else.

God’s own delight!