I cannot claim to be well connected in the Indian film industry, popularly (and somewhat vulgarly) called Bollywood, but I have been lucky to meet and know a few people in the business. One of them is actor Dev Anand, who is almost 88 years old. Though he debuted in films in the mid-1940s, he was among the biggest on-screen names till the late 1970s, a stupendous run of over three decades. And for those who may think that he has retired since then, here’s some news: his new film Chargesheet is due out in a couple of months, as he told me when I dropped in to see him a few days ago. No wonder he is called an Evergreen star.

It is another matter that many of his recent films have done poorly at the box office. But that hasn’t stopped him from constantly planning new projects. He is an optimist and often says, “If I stop making motion pictures, I die.” He is fond of quoting a line from one of his films, Hum Dono — “mein zindagi ka saath nibhaata chala gaya, har fikr ko dhuen mein udata chala gaya.”

Devsaab, ebullient and charming as ever, can be very wonderful company. I got to know him when I was interviewing him for a book about his cinema. I found him completely without fake starry airs. He has no secretary (most stars have several) and answers his phone himself. He gives an appointment without any hesitation and I have seen him handle mobs and fans with grace. Indians are crazy about their film stars but not many stars reciprocate that love. He still has youngsters come up to him and quote his lines in his typical style — will the present lot have a fanbase like this when they are close to 90, I wonder?

The one thing Devsaab (as he is universally called) loves talking about is his days as a student in Lahore. He went to Government College and proudly talks of being a Ravian. Many of his contemporaries and seniors went on to join the film industry. He came to Bombay (as it was then called) as a young aspirant and after a couple of years of struggle got a role as a hero in a film called Hum ek Hain. But his first successful film was Ziddi, released in 1948. Written by Ismat Chugtai and directed by her husband Shahid Latif, it made him a star. He soon launched his own company Navketan in 1949 which went on to make classics like Baazi, Taxi Driver, Hum Dono, Guide, Jewel Thief and Hare Rama Hare Krishna. The company came to be known for its songs, many of them popular even today.

The Bombay film industry worships success; you are only as good as your last hit. But some actors are beyond those labels. The premiere for the colorised version of his film Hum Dono, held in February, was attended by stars like Ranbir Kapoor, Aamir Khan and Salman Khan only because of the general affection for Dev Anand.

Chatting in his office the other day, he declared that he was working on his next film, possibly a sequel to his classic film, Hare Rama Hare Krishna. His eyes were brimming with childlike enthusiasm as he revealed that he was writing the script for his film and was looking around for a suitable heroine.

A film star’s glitter lasts only till he shines at the box office. Dev Anand has not had a hit for years. Yet that has not faded his glamour, nor reduced his charm. Youngsters tell him that their grandmothers swooned over him (and I have seen grown men becoming all starry-eyed when they come face-to-face with him.) That is the rarest of rare qualities that very few people possess.

The last time he visited Pakistan, was with the then Indian prime minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee at the inaugural run of the Delhi-Lahore bus in 1999. He has many friends in Pakistan and his autobiography, sold well among Pakistanis. The hardback book was a smash hit, selling over 25000 copies, a stupendous achievement in a country where English books rarely cross the 7000 mark – time for a Pakistani edition and an Urdu translation perhaps?

Sidharth Bhatia is a journalist based in Bombay (Mumbai).

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.