The life journey of a versatile actor

OF the scores of men and women in film and radio business who I have met, I can’t think of anyone with quite the range of acting and mimicry as possessed by Saeed Jaffrey. It is largely due to his versatility that he has come to the top as a screen actor. His first love was radio he spent many years reading news and broadcasting plays over All India Radio, Delhi. His next love was the stage: he acted in several plays with amateur casts on small stages. Films came last. But it were his memorable performances playing roles as diverse as God, Lord Krishna, Guru Nanak, Maharajah Ranjit Singh, Nehru, Sardar Patel, down to a Banares Paanwala and the fornicating owner of a laundrette in London which proved that he was capable of playing any role assigned to him to perfection. Three years ago the Queen honoured him with an OBE (Order of the British Empire) — the first Asian to receive the title.

Saeed came into my life half a century ago. I was doing a stint with AIR. He was just out of college and trying his luck as a broadcaster. He lived in the Y.M.C.A. He was desperately in love with Madhur Bahadur, the daughter of celebrated Kayasth family of Delhi. Saeed earned barely Rs 100 per month. And all he owned was a bicycle. Undaunted he called on Madhur’s father and sought his permission to marry his daughter. His request was turned down and he was told not to see Madhur again. Thats when he sought my advice and support. I advised him to ignore Madhur’s father and if she was willing to chance it, marry her. This is exactly what Saeed did. He got a Fullbright Scholarship to study theatre in the USA. Madhur also got some kind of state grant to study abroad. The two got married and proceeded to have three daughters in quick succession.

Saeed was, and is, a very gifted and loveable man. But he was prone to fall in love with pretty girls and did not regard extra-marital affairs sinful. In the artistic circles he moved in having affairs was the thing to do. Saeed admits that he did his best not to steal his friends’ girlfriends; their wives were fair game and there was always a floating population of young ladies who hopped from one lover’s bed to another’s without much compuction. Madhur got wind of her husband’s affairs; she overlooked some but did not forgive him for succumbing to an Indian dancer known to be indiscriminate in granting favours. Their marriage broke up.

Saeed’s acting career remained unstable for many years. He earned applause but very little money. He worked as a barman and sold New Year’s cards in a department store. At times he was reduced to sleeping on public benches and surviving on cups of coffee. Four times he was bashed up by white recist hoodlums and bruised all over his face. For years his only steady source of income was BBC, overseas radio and small roles in films. Slowly, he earned recognition and money. Amongst the many films celebrities he got to know were Marilyn Monroe, Ingrid Bergman, Marlon Brando, Sir John Gielgud, Sybil Thornydke, Peggy Ashcroft, Satyajit Ray and Richard Attenborough.

Saeed Jaffrey has put his memoirs together in An Actor’s Journey (Harper Collins). He was evidently in a great hurry to do so and put down all he could recall about his tumultous life as an actor, hard drinker and lover of women. Though not a practising Muslim (he loves bacon with his breakfast), whenever in need of divine help, like a devout Shia he invokes the name of Hazrat Ali: Ya Ali Madad. He subscribes to astrological phenomenon and on one occasion when he was cast as Sardar Patel, the Sardar’s spirit entered him in the form of high fever to inspire him. There is little doubt that if Saeed had taken more trouble over his writing, he could have produced a memorable autobiography. When he put his mind to it, which was rare, he did write felicitous prose.

Missionary journalism

I receive a large number of journals which obviously have small circulations, very little advertisement support and earn no money for their publishers. Nevertheless, they go on and on because they feel they have a mission to fulfil. Most of them are on religious matters, a few outspokenly critical of institutionalised religion. The Indian Skeptic is devoted to debunking the cult of godmen and belief in astrology. Radical Thought from Amritsar has been my favourite reading because it steers a middle course: it tells you what true religion should be, but how in practice its course has been perverted. And much else about healthy living and need for laughter. I asked its editor, Chaman Lal Korpal, about his set-up. He replied candidly; it is run by his wife and him. He is the editor, proof-reader, publisher and distributor. The journal does not earn much through advertisement and is not seen at newspaper stalls. I have no doubt the Korpals must be out of pocket with each issue. But he fulfils his life’s mission. That means a lot to him.

Self-boredom

Banta Singh complained to the doctor: "I have this nasty habit of talking to myself."

"There is nothing wrong in it," counselled the doctor. "Many people are in the habit of talking to themselves."

"But, doctor, I am such a big bore," lamented Banta. (Contributed by A.S. Deepak, Chandigarh)

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Boozy vision

Seen scribbled on a wall in a pub in Mumbai: "Beauty lies in the eyes of the ‘Beer-Holder’!"

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Coming of age

Sticker on a Hyundai Santro in New Mumbai — "Wow! Finally 21. I can now legally do everything I’ve been upto since I was 15!"

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Discovered written on a wall outside a computer institute in New Delhi — "To err is human, but a real mess requires a computer!"

(Contributed by Shashank Shekhar, New Mumbai)