|
|
One-man show
Stepping into the Jaffrey residence in a North London suburb, one was met by an over-energetic dog, a plump, smiling lady and a fully-suited man. Taken aback by the warm welcome (which journalists are not usually accustomed to), this writer wondered whether she had accidentally entered the sets of The Kumar’s at No 42.
Framed photographs of Saeed Jaffrey in the hallway were a reassurance that this was the right house. Impeccably dressed in a three-piece cream suit, he reclined against the matching cream cushions and smiled benignly. Sitting opposite an actor who has worked in innumerable films, ranging from classics such as A Passage to India, Gandhi, The Man Who Would Be King, to Bollywood flicks like Chaal Baaz and Albela, one wondered where to begin.
‘I used to go to India quite often. I did some memorable films there and met some lovely people. Ram Teri Ganga Maili was a great experience. I stopped going in 1998 because I felt all the good people had left. The new lot is only interested in making a fast buck’
But after a while it felt as if he was the interviewer and I the interviewee. To Saeed Jaffrey, nothing seems impossible and nothing is out of reach. As he unfolded his life story, one began to see why.
Early days
That brush with acting left its imprint and after I completed my MA at Allahbad University, my father realized that his ‘mad’ son was not going to be the civil servant or doctor he wanted him to be. Thus, he bought me a ticket to Delhi (Mumbai, with its film crowd, was still considered too rowdy) and wished me good luck in the field of arts.”
On air in Delhi
Radio also gave me a chance to interview some brilliant personalities of the time. Once I was handed the tape recorder and sent to Safdar Jung Airport on a moment’s notice. There was Pundit Jawaharlal Nehru looking handsome in a starched white sherwani, but feeling miserable. He was on his way to England and all he wanted to hear from his ministers was a warm farewell and an assurance that affairs would be under control in his absence. Instead, they bumbled about uttering stooping namastays like a lost herd, making Nehru even more irritable. I thought no way is he going to give me an interview in that mood. So, as he was going up the steps to the aircraft, I shouted ‘Punditji, you are going to England for the first time since independence. Have a lovely time and Khuda-hafiz!’ Suddenly, he turned and said with a hearty smile, ‘Shahbash, beta and Khuda-hafiz!’
That night, all of India heard the Kashmir-born, Brahmin Hindu Prime Minister utter for the first time on national radio the words ‘Khuda-hafiz!’ That was the magic of radio.”
A theatre wallah
Broadway, New York
After that I decided to try my luck on Broadway. I met a Jewish-American Khatak dancer known as Khanzada, who introduced me to a director at the Actor’s Playhouse, off Broadway. I auditioned for the part of the father of the bride in Lorca’s Blood Wedding. I got the part but was informed that the play opened that very night! I decided to take it up as a challenge and was so convincing that James Ivory, who came to see the play, thought I was Spanish. He asked me to narrate a film and so our association began. Then a few months later, Ismail Merchant came to New York.
So, I thought, here was James Ivory, a creative genius but extremely shy and there was Merchant, a convincing salesman. My mind cooked up a scheme to get them together and so Merchant-Ivory was formed. Later, we met Ruth Prawar Jhabvala in Delhi, who was to become the scriptwriter for many of our films.”
Love and heartbreak
Our marriage was very successful while it lasted. There was an Indian classical dancer who came to America. I didn’t have much money at the time but I wanted to be a good host, so I helped her and her troupe get an opening in New York. The dancer fell madly in love with me. It was a 19-day affair, which Madhu found out about years later. She never forgave me and our marriage broke up. And no, I don’t miss her cooking!
In 1974, I met Jennifer through a late friend. The first time I met her I told her that she reminded me of magnolia blossoms. Love bloomed and during that time she went through two major operations. I turned to Allah and He answered ‘marriage’. So I married her and we are still together and happy.”
Indian cinema
My first film in India was The Chess Players (Shatranj Kay Khiladi) in 1977, with Satyajit Ray and Richard Attenborough. But the film that really established me in Indian cinema was Chashmay Bud Dur, a comedy with Farooq Sheikh in which I play a Dilli ka paanwallah. The director let me rewrite the script in the old Delhi accent and it was so successful that a lot of people had no idea the paanwallah was actually a Broadway performer!”
Goodbye, Mumbai
Pakistan
Discrimination
Roles to remember
Nowadays
With that we decided to wrap up the interview. He has a disorienting habit of transforming into the person he is describing. When he spoke about an Englishman, he put on a clipped British accent. When he spoke about his time in India, he switched to heavily accented Hinglish, and when he described a walk through Harlem, he became an African American. It’s this chameleon-like quality that makes him the versatile actor he is. By the time I left, I understood why he is the first Asian actor ever to win an Order of the British Empire Award for his services to drama. He is what one would call a seriously good one-man show. — By arrangement with the British Council
|
|
|
