Friday, December 14, 2012

Romancing With Life and Cinema

In his autobiography Romancing with life Dev Anand unhesitatingly reveals his affairs. According to him, he was not a skirt chaser in real life. It was the women who took the initiative and Dev simply responded. But it was his four-year-long (1948-51) affair with Suraiya, the singing sensation and superstar of the Hindi/Urdu cinema, that left an indelible impact on him. The two wanted to tie the knot but became victims of religious bigotry. While Dev eventually overcame the trauma of a broken relationship and moved on, Suraiya decided not to get married.

In his autobiography Romancing With Life, the late star legend revisited the events that put an abrupt end to a passionate love affair.

“My heart sank, and my whole world shattered. There was no meaning to existence without her.

But then not living meant killing myself, which would be a negation of all that my inner strength stood for. Finally, I ended up crying on the shoulder of my brother Chetan, who knew the extent of my involvement with Suraiya.

He consoled me and said, "This episode will only make you stronger, more mature, to fight bigger battles later."

I looked across to the distant horizon. The evening sun that was still aglow threw the special ray it reserved for me in my direction. It brightened my face anew. I kept looking at it, as my brother continued, "Life teaches its own lessons at every step, chapter by chapter. This chapter is closed for your forever, and you must start a new one."


Standing in a corner I read the note scribbled back by Suraiya. I read, 'I cried as I read your letter. It is mutual. I love you. I, too, am dying to meet you. Call me tomorrow at 7 pm. I shall be near the phone.
Next day, I called her exactly at the time she had given. She picked up the phone. As I heard her "Hello," joy coursed through my veins.

"Nosey," I poured all my love into the word. But I heard granny's voice reply instead, saying, "Who's that?" And a weeping shriek from Suraiya in the background, while the phone got disconnected. I did not let my determination die down though and called again; the phone was picked up; I repeated, "Suraiya!"

Suraiya is not at home!" The granny shouted and banged the phone down. I persisted and rang again. Granny who picked up the phone now said threateningly, "Next time I hear your voice, you will have the police talking to you." Then came a loud banging down of the phone, this time more violent.

Frustrated, I closed my eyes, sat down, holding my head in my hands; but I did not give up. I let a little time go by, about an hour, during the course of which I again thought of the futility of existence without my lady-love. Then I rang her number again.

Somebody picked up the phone. I listened quietly to the voice. It said "Hello" very softly. It wasn't Suraiya's voice, and it certainly wasn't the granny's either. I guessed it could be Suraiya's mother.
"Is that Mummy?" I whispered.
"Yes Dev." I heaved a sigh of relief.
"Can I speak to Suraiya?"
"She's been crying," her mother said.
I was emboldened. "Can I speak to her?" I repeated.
"No, she cannot, her granny is close by," she said in a soft whisper.
"But I must meet her!" I was desperate.
"She, too, wants to meet you."
"Then?" I asked eagerly.
"Call me exactly after one hour, I shall arrange a meeting."
I called exactly after one hour, and her mother said, "Don't call Suraiya. But you can meet her tomorrow."
I was in heaven. She continued, "But very late at night. A little after eleven-thirty."
"Eleven-thirty tomorrow night?" I reaffirmed.
"She'll be up on the terrace of the building. You can take the staircase, as you enter from the main building, and climb straight up," she said, and put the phone down.
"Is this a ruse -- to trap me?" I wondered.
"I don't think so.  I should take the risk!" the determined part of me said.
"What if I am caught? I'll be proclaimed a sneaky scoundrel in all the newspapers." The cautious side of me warned. "I could even land in a lock-up."

There was a hell of a debate raging inside me. But the lover in me had the final say, "How can I not trust Suraiya's mother? She is the only one in the family who is fond of me. I have to believe her."

I opted for my historic and fairy-tale rendezvous with the love of my heart and took my friend, Tara, now an inspector in the police department in Bombay, along with me.

Much before the appointed time given by Suraiya's mother, we both stood on the parapet by the sea, at a spot that provided a view of the top of the terrace. Tara pushed a small torch into my pocket.

"In case of any mishap, just flash this torch towards me from above. I shall flash mine getting your signal, and then rush upstairs to your rescue. I am carrying a revolver," he said.

I felt safer and protected by the strategy planned by the policeman, which was straight out of a movie thriller.
After a seemingly long, impatient and nerve-racking wait, the hands of my gold-bordered Rolex watch, newly bought from the Army and Navy stores, in keeping with my current star status, showed eleven-thirty. I climbed up the stairs to the open terrace, five or six stories above the ground, as fast as a cat.

Panting for breath as I stood at the doorway while my eyes roved for her, I discerned her turning towards me. She was sitting by the water-tank.

I rushed forward to meet her. She stood up, holding out her arms towards me. We held each other in a long, hot embrace. She did not utter a word, nor did I.

After a long silence that said everything, we looked at each other. As I stroked her hair, she held her lips up to me, ready for a kiss. The kiss lingered till eternity, as the angels serenaded us from above.

And then she wept. I consoled her, and she smiled a smile that fairies would envy. I wanted to protect her from all the evil that ever befell her. "Will you marry me?" I asked.
She hugged me again and nodded, mumbling, "I love you! I love you! I love you!"

Down in the street waiting by the sea, with the tide rising, was Tara, my friend, looking up at the terrace. But the light from the torch never flashed.

I went to Zaveri Bazaar and bought one of the costliest rings that would adorn her finger. I called Suraiya's number, but the granny picked up the phone. I recognized her gruff voice and put the phone down, and called her again after another hour. Again, I recognized the granny's voice. I repeated the call in the evening, and got the same inimical "Hello." Now I knew she was guarding the telephone and screening the calls.
I called Divecha, my cinematographer friend, in distress. He answered the phone and on hearing my voice immediately asked, "A love-note again?"

"No, an engagement ring this time," I said.
"Where is my bottle of Black Label?" He joked.
"You shall have as many as you want," I joked back.

He took my ring to her house.
When he got back from Suraiya's house, he was very happy for me, and said, "She was charmed by the ring, took it quietly inside her room to treasure it in a box, and came out to tell me how much she loved you."
I was in seventh heaven, we were now engaged! I longed for her, more and more; but I did not hear from her. Our filming episodes with each other were over, and there was no way we could meet.

Days turned into weeks and there was no news from her. No written note, no call, no message. I checked with Divecha, and he promised to find out. But this time he was not allowed into their house.

The granny shut the door on his face, saying, "We are not welcoming even the best of our friends for reasons we need not divulge." But he too became inquisitive, and being a reliable information gatherer, very close to the gossiping tongues of the film industry, he soon found out that there was a severe rift in Suraiya's family, nobody taking her side on the issue of her personal emotional involvement except her mother.

If she chose to go against the wishes of the family, either she would be eliminated, or the granny would kill herself. Apparently, Suraiya had wept and wept and finally yielded to the pressure mounting on her.
They prevailed upon her. She took a solemn oath to throw me completely out of her mind.

Later, as an act of desperate frustration, she took the ring I sent her to the seaside, and looking at it for the last time, with all the love she had in her heart for me, threw it far into the sea, to sing songs about our romance to the rising and falling tides.
Divecha was sad and sympathetic as he narrated all this. Then he philosophized, "Shakespeare will be reborn to give your tragic love story immorality in another play that will bear his own Romeo and Juliet."

Suraiya remained unmarried. She lived in her apartment on Marine Drive in Mumbai until her death due to cancer on January 31st  2004 at age 74.
He may have married his Taxi Driver costar Kalpana Karthik but his first love was Suraiya, the iconic singer/actress of the 1940s.

The young Dev Anand, landed at the Bombay Central station, the city of dreams, in July 1943 carrying just a bag which held all his belongings, a colourful scarf around his neck and his heart-brimming with ambition, ideas and dreams to be met come what may, though he was just 19 and educated at the best English schools in India and with a degree in English Literature.  He knew it was difficult, he found it difficult but he had a smile on his face, a song on his lips and the kind of faith no power could take away from him. He had only 30 rupees to start with.

He found a place to live in a room in Parel where some friends from Gurdaspur, most of them mill workers lived; he only needed a place to sleep because he spent the whole day chasing his dreams. Soon, when the money he had brought with him got over and he realized he couldn't go on without money, Dev took up a job with the British Censor Office where he had to go through letters written by Indian soldiers forced by circumstances to fight with the British against Indians who were fighting for freedom from the British. The young man found the job interesting, the letters he read gave him an insight to human relationships and human feelings; the job also helped him to open up and make friends, girl friends specially who fell for him, his smile, for his charming ways and the puff in his hair.


It was his elder brother Chetan Anand, a known name in theatre, films and social and cultural fields, who introduced him to well-known writers like Raja Rao and K. A. Abbas who took a liking for him and gave him a place to live in his Shivaji Park house, something the young man was always grateful for. It was destiny that gave him the information that Baburao Pai, a filmmaker from Poona was looking for a young man to play the hero in Hum Ek Hain, which was directed by P L Santoshi. Dev Anand swaggered into the cabin where Pai and Santoshi sat and came out with a broad grin on his face…for he was selected to play the hero of the film.

That was the beginning of a new legend called Dev Anand. His career took one more leap when the husband and wife team of writers Ismat Chugtai and her husband Shahid Lateef saw him ambling around Churchgate station. The two who were sitting in the first class compartment called the young man and asked him if he was interested in acting. They asked him to come over to Bombay Talkies at Malad; where Ashok Kumar was both a leading actor and a joint owner of the company. Dev Anand passed his second test and was the hero of Ziddi, which marked the beginning of a career which was destined to be a milestone in the history of Indian Cinema, the beginning of a man who was to be a star, an idol, an icon, and a legend. He was a part of the great trio - Dilip Kumar, Raj Kapoor and himself but he created his own class, his own institution and was a phenomenal in his own bright world.

Dev had his own production company, Navketan, a company which is still around after more than 65 years… all because of the undying and unflagging and unflinching faith of just one man, Dev. And Dev, the star legend  went on shining till the very end, and like his undying spirit, he kept making films till the very end and death came to him just as he wanted, he just became a 'bubble in the endless ocean'…

Anand received the Padma Bhushan in 2001 and the Dadasaheb Phalke Award in 2002. He received several Filmfare awards and international honors and recognitions during his lifetime. Due to his resemblance to Hollywood star Gregory Peck, Dev Anand was accepted as one of Hindi cinema’s best looking actors. Anand succumbed to a cardiac arrest on December 3, 2011, in London. Anand’s full name was Dharam Dev Pishorimal Anand. He was son of a lawyer. He was born on 26 September, 1923, in Gurdaspur.



In his book Dev Anand acknowledges, candidly and without any sadness or resentment, his obsession with Zeenat Aman and disappointment at her lack of reciprocation. His unsuccessful love affair with Suraya is replayed in depth, disclosing an intense setback that he optimistically turned into a strengthening experience. He alludes to several of his heroines whose rise to glory was scripted by him and recaptures his time with Guru Dutt, Raj Kapoor, and Dilip Kumar.





Life, in all its glory, was a celebration for Dev Anand, who lived it at a pace that would have rendered most other mortals breathless.



2 comments:

Anonymous said...

This is a really good piece! I thoroughly enjoyed reading it :)

Anonymous said...

it is very strange that Dev Anand never revisted his home town- Gurdaspur or his place of schooling-Dalhousie. Ego? Past bitterness? or a fear that the place would have changed? who knows. but this behavior is very strange

 
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