Conversations with Waheeda Rehman (22 page)

Accompanying Helen (left) and Asha Parekh on holiday in Istanbul, Turkey. May 2012. Photograph: Waheeda Rehman.

With friends (L to R) Jabeen, Shakila and Nanda. Shakila was the leading lady in Waheeda Rehman’s first Hindi film,
C.I.D.

Asha Parekh and I have not worked in the same film but I used to meet her at various parties and premieres over the years. About ten years ago, she came to Bangalore to shoot a TV serial called
Baaje Payal
which was produced by Shammi Rabadi and Asha. The serial was about dancers. Since Shammiji and I were old friends, I got to know Asha very well.

And there’s Sadhana whom I met during the making of a film called
Ulfat
. I told you that was an unreleased film of mine; Raaj Kumar was also acting in it. Shashi knew Sadhana’s husband, Nayyar Saab, before he became a producer/director.

Sadhana and Nayyar Saab, Yash and Hiroo, and Shashi and I would get together very often. Then Nayyar Saab passed away.

NMK:
What about friends unconnected to films?

WR:
I have other friends who have nothing to do with films, including Barota. Her husband, Jain Malhotra, was an industrialist and they were Shashi’s close friends too. Other dear friends are Harish Salve, the son of the former Union minister N.K.P. Salve, and his wife, Meenakshi, who is a relative of Shashi’s. They live in Delhi and whenever they come to Bombay, they come over to the house for a meal. Indira Jaising is someone I am very fond of. She is the assistant solicitor general of India and lives near me in Bandra.

I met Kiran Mazumdar-Shaw and her husband, John, thirty years ago when she was just starting her company. We’ve been good friends ever since that time. She is a down-to-earth and compassionate person.

It’s good to know people who are not working in films, otherwise the conversation tends only to be about the movies and it’s not exciting to talk about films all the time.

You know, I am amazed how fascinated people are by Indian cinema. Oh my God, are they crazy about films!

NMK:
Do you think this interest is greater than before?

WR:
Yes, I think so.

NMK:
You have met countless people in your life—do you find people interesting?

WR:
I think people are very interesting. They have such individuality—their habits and ways of thinking. I like analysing people and I like analysing my own behaviour too. I am curious to know why a person speaks or behaves in the way he or she does. I don’t like generalizing, nor am I judgemental in any way, but it’s fascinating to see how different people react in different situations.

I am a good listener. I try not to react instantly. If someone doesn’t smile back at me, I assume that there must be something on their mind or perhaps something is troubling them. I don’t
take it personally and jump to conclusions. Either way, I don’t believe everyone should like me. Why should they?

Even in a marriage, one should not take the other for granted. One has to accept and respect the individual.

NMK:
What about the other people who have shared your life? I am sure members of your staff have worked with you and your family for many years.

WR:
My driver Naseer lives in Bangalore now. He has been with me for forty years. He was a young boy when he first started working for me. He was the same age as a nephew of mine. When he first arrived, he proudly told me he was previously working for the spiritual head of the Bohras.

Naseer is married and is old now. He’s got diabetes and can’t see properly, but refuses to wear specs. The poor fellow has lost most of his teeth. He is very reliable. He’s a sweet and sincere man.

My children argue about who will keep Naseer after I am gone. It’s not as though he can work any more. He is retired and lives in our rented place in Bangalore.

There was another boy, Raju, who was about fourteen or fifteen when he started working in the fields on our Bangalore farm. Raju slowly learned how to cook and became the house cook. He has been with us for thirty years. He’s married and has children.

NMK:
I am sure many young women who aspire to become actresses would appreciate your advice on acting. What is the most important thing when approaching a role?

WR:
They have to understand the kind of role they’re playing. Who is the character? No matter how much you learn about the techniques of acting, unless you put your soul into it, it will not make any impression. Your soul has to be there for any sincerity to come through.

When my guru T.M.S. Pillai was teaching me Bharatanatyam in Chennai, he sat me down one day and said: ‘I have taught you everything, the mudras, the bhavas. But your facial expressions are the most important thing and that is where your soul is visible. No guru in the world can teach you that.’

I had no training in acting, but even if you are a trained actor, I know you have to put that little bit of soul into your performance—and that can only happen when you have understood the character perfectly and what is required in this moment, in this scene.

NMK:
What do you mean by ‘soul’?

WR:
Feeling the emotions totally. To imagine: if I were that person in that situation, how would I feel? If the character is a Shankar or a Vijay, a little bit of Dilip Kumar or Amitabh has to come into the character.

NMK:
Is there always a bit of you in your characters?

WR:
A little bit, but not too much. If there is too much then you’re not acting—you are Waheeda all the time. You have to change yourself to become another character, but you do need to add your own emotions and personality.

What you bring to a character is a fine balance between craft and personality. But craft alone will not help you.

NMK:
I am sure aspects of your personality are present in the different characters you have played. Which character is close to the real Waheeda Rehman?

WR:
There’s a bit of me in Shanti, Gulaabo and Rosie. But I think I am most like Rosie. She’s a straightforward woman who knows her own mind. She stands by what she believes in.

NMK:
If you hadn’t become an actress, what would you have liked to be?

WR:
When we were young, medicine was regarded as the only respectable profession for women. I always wanted to work, and I told my father I wished to become a doctor. He said: ‘
Beta
, you won’t be able to study because of your poor health. How will you become a doctor?’ I insisted that I would somehow. I’m still fascinated by medicine and homeopathy.

President V.V. Giri awards the Padma Shri to Waheeda Rehman in 1972. She went on to receive the Padma Bhushan, one of India’s highest civilian awards in 2011.

There’s a funny story I must tell you. When my father was alive, we had three peons who came from his office to help out in the house. One of the peons once told me that he had a bad headache. I made him a paste of coconut oil and talcum powder and asked him to apply half the paste on his temple and eat the other half. My sisters said: ‘Are you crazy? Supposing something terrible happens to him?’ I reassured them by saying: ‘I am giving it to him with love and faith; nothing bad will happen.’ I was very young.

NMK:
Talcum powder?

WR:
Yes! He applied the paste to his temple and ate the rest. Call it faith or whatever, but the peon later told me: ‘God bless you, my headache has gone.’ After that if he didn’t feel well, he used to come to me for treatment.

I used to read all those Hamdard Dawakhana magazines. Hakims say 50–70 per cent of medicine can be found in your kitchen cabinet—turmeric, cloves, cinnamon and dry ginger. All these spices have medicinal properties.

My husband had a terrible cough once and I gave him some haldi mixed in milk. It is a common remedy. At first Shashi refused, but later he drank it. He said it had helped him. He once told me: ‘Look, your Jesus Christ syndrome of healing people could end in tears. Some day you’ll kill someone and then you’ll hold your head in your hands and cry. Stop doing all this.’
[laughs]

Shashi and I had a good marriage.

NMK:
It sounds like you and your husband laughed a lot together. Now if you need to talk through important decisions, who do you turn to? Your son, Sohail? Or Kashvi?

WR:
Sohail and Kashvi are young. I don’t discuss my problems with my sisters either and never have. Sayeeda lives in Bombay, but goes to Panchgani often because her daughter Samina is studying there. Bi-Apa lives in Hyderabad and comes here to see her children who are now grown up. Sha-Apa lives between Kumbakonam and Hyderabad. My sisters keep travelling. What else can they do at this age?

I know they have their own problems. Why burden them with mine? When you believe in God, you hold His hand and leave it to Him to sort things out.

NMK:
So you’re not a worrier?

WR:
No. When my husband and I moved to Bangalore, we were faced with many problems regarding our farmland. Shashi smoked heavily, and when he was worried, he smoked even more. I would try to calm him down and say: ‘Leave it to God. Go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll see what can be done.’

And he would say, ‘You’re a Muslim, so you believe in the greatness of Allah and you leave everything in His hands.’ Shashi liked my attitude, but, oh my God, did he worry!
[smiles]

Wonderful memories shared with Shammi and Nargis during the making of
Reshma Aur Shera
. Photographed in a tent in Jaisalmer by Nargis’s nephew Sarwar Hussain. 1971.