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Ali's Notes

WHAT THE HELL
And what times are we living through? What the hell is happening to the world of ours whirling round and round without any rhyme or reason and therefore reaching no where. I am virtually scared of a world which allows a young woman whose only claim to celebrity is that she is the daughter of parents who once made a name out of shocking people out of their senses (they made shocking a style, a fad a fashion, a way of life which ultimately led them nowhere. And whose only (the young woman) personal achievements were that she acted (?) in a film called Vishkanya (Poison Princess)in which she revealed herself more than showed any iota or even a flash of the ever so difficult art of acting and modelled for a condom (Kamsutra). Now, this ‘celebrity’ was chosen to interview a legend like Amitabh Bachchan on one of those countless and now dangerously growing inane channels. She made an ugly mess of an opportunity which comes only once in a way. Or did she do it on purpose, some revenge, some enmity of old? How could she dare to ask such inane, silly and stupid questions of a man who is known for his dignity, for his distinction, for his command over languages and feelings and emotions of every kind, a man who could squeeze emotions from every alphabet, of every, of every word, every comma. How could she ask him why his hair are black and beard grey? How could she have the gumption to ask him the kind of questions that got on your nerves, that almost made you smash your TV sets or do to her what he did to ‘Peter’, the bad man in Amar Akbar Anthony? And how dare this woman more known for her controversies than her creativity call the legend a ‘sick, tired, grumpy old man’. How does a sick mind like her get an opportunity to sit near a legend and ask him questions some of the greatest interviewers, analysts, critics, film historians, smart alecs in round glasses and hair (which they do not comb for months which is supposed to be a symbol of how their minds work) have tried to ask the legend and stammered, stumbled and staggered at the last moment before asking him their daring questions. What kind of a generation are we living with, a generation which has absolutely no respect for men and women who have done what they can’t do even if they are given several lives to try? What kind of modern genius is this kind of genius which creates so much misunderstandings in a world which is already growing wilder, a world which has some hope in some of these legends we have, legends like Amitabh. When will these giggly girls and gangling boys realise that they have to run the future? And the way they are doing it certainly is no way to run the future but go back to a place, to a time before culture and civilisation, I am sorry to say.

WHO’S THIS MAHESH?
And whenever I see Mahesh Bhatt I am reminded of the wild wild days of a man who was extraordinarily intelligent but gradually working hard to destroy himself for reasons very difficult to fathom. His drinking bouts, his banging every wall (a symbol of demolishing the world of hypocrisy which he hated, the world where values wildly clashed against the wild rules made by himself, his fights with every one from the autorickshawala to the learned professor of Philosophy, they all came back to me in a flash. He was a violent genius who could go to any extent to reach his goal which reached him to some unknown corner, some ‘Nowhere’ where ‘Nowherites’ lived and believed only themselves, nothing else, lived and ‘played’ life like a game. He strangely realised that this was liberty, this was freedom of the body and mind he was struggling to find from gurus, rishis, maharishis, philosophers and pundits who had nothing but empty words and ashes which they asked him to smear on his forehead to clear the cobwebs from his mangled mind.
Then came one of the great miracles witnessed in my life. The Mahesh Bhatt of old had ‘died’ and a new Mahesh Bhatt was born. This Mahesh was a reincarnation of the wild Mahesh. He had understood himself, the understanding came from within him, not the many munis where he was trying to find it. He not only understood himself, he understood others, he understood the world and how the world wanted him to live and succeed. This was the new Mahesh, the successful Mahesh and what a way he had succeeded! He realised the value of money. The man who refused to travel in a car to the studio now travelled in some of the trendiest cars, the man who said he hated the telephone now directed scenes on cellphones. The only things that still remained faithful to him - his chappals and his favourite blue jeans. He then decided to take a break after a hectic spell of hard work. For a change he decided to play the guru, the messiah, the mahatma to followers who acted to understand but understood very little of what he said. Mahesh was the boss now and a boss couldn’t be questioned easily. He has stopped making films now but he has not stopped playing the guru. He has transmigrated a part of himself into his ‘chelas’, like Tanuja Chandra, Vikram Bhatt and a group of other chelas waiting to be canonised by the ‘Pope’ (Mahesh). It is difficult to believe Mahesh giving up so much as a filmmaker in whom the industry saw a great future once but then it is his life and no one can do anything about it. Mahesh dtives me mad with questions about himself but I love those questions because how boring life would be without men like Mahesh.

SON OF THE SOIL
The son of the soil, Dharmendra, seems to be getting the better of him these days. He spends most of his time at his huge farm at Khandala ‘where I find the kind of peace I always wanted’, I come to Mumbai only when I have some shooting or some serious work which demands my presence. Otherwise I long to go back to my farm where I spend all my time. There is no disturbance of any kind, physically, mentally... It reminds me of my home and early days in Phagwara in Punjab which I left so many years ago. I am very happy the way people in Khandala call my land Dharam Land now. And I’m happier that they call me Paaji which gives me the complete feeling of going back to being the son of the soil. My personal motto now is Dharam bhi khush, log bhi khush, hum sub khush. I hope India becomes a little like my farm one day. Surprisingly Dharam misses Mumbai very rarely. The city which made a ordinary farmer’s son a mega star.’

Ask him if he has missed any of the big directors and he says the ‘best of Dharam has still not come. I always worked with good directors. I am good in doing every role as an actor, I have proved during the last forty years. My greatest hope is to do a fulfledged comedy with my all time favourite director Hrishida. I hope my dream is fulfilled someday. Dharam the actor has not given up acting and will not so soon, let people know.

There are times when I feel like competing with my sons. I have not lost hope. God has never let me down. I hope he fulfils this one too.’
And I hope as a witness to the growth of this great man’s career that God listens to his prayers and I have heard God listens to good men’s prayers, good men like Dharam paaji

THE THESPIAN’S TRIAL!
The efforts the greatest actor of all times (Opinion strictly mine and who can dare challenge me?) Dilip Kumar is making to release Aag Ka Darya which was completed some 14 years ago has to be seen to be believed. He has tried and he is trying to get his producer R. Venkatraman out of all the financial and legal hassles ‘because Venkataraman is a very respectable good gentleman who has made 28 big films during his entire career and has got stuck this one time and stuck very badly.’ The thespian who heads the cast of Aag Ka Dariya with the ‘indestructible’(the legend’s description for Rekha) says all efforts are being made by me and my good friends to bring in the money to complete the formalities and then if all goes well then let’s hope the film gets a good release in another few months or so. This is the kind of film I would never like to go waste. It has to be released somehow and I am willing to go out of my way to help this man Venkatraman to release the film on which we have spent all the energy, so much money, so much time. This money business has always driven me mad. I have never been able to understand the intricacies of this game of film making which is so much fun till money comes in the way and mauls some of our best dreams. I am still trying. I am being helped by some of my moneyed friends. I have seen the film, some of my best directors have seen it and the subject is as fresh as ever much better than most of the film being made today. The only things that disturb the viewer are the drastic changes that have come over young actors like Amrita Singh, Rajeev Kapoor, Padmini Kolhapure, Amrish Puri and some other actors. Surprisingly the other women, specially Rekha and Amrita Singh are still as gorgeous as they were when the film was started. The thespian who is known for his perfection and sincerity in going through all the 82 films he has done at every stage has still not changed, will never change. Thats why he is the greatest and he will not let the ‘aag’ inside him die down till Aag Ka Darya becomes a reality because when a film like Aag Ka Darya involves the lives of so many sensitive men and women it hurts him. He even fills guilty. And as I know him he will not rest till the ‘aag’ and ‘darya’ in him are satisfied.

WHAT A SHAME!
I am about to go bed when I feel I have not read a page of my favourite paper ‘Indian Express’. I read of little Leo, the 6 pounds, 3 ounces son of Prime Minister Tony Blair and his wife Cherie and how Leo will go down as the first child to be born when a Prime Minister is still in office. The last time something like this happened a 150 years ago.

I am about to say cheers to Mr. and Mrs.Blair and good night to the world when a news item on the same page draws my attention. The headline says it all when it screams ‘Asian Films Sweep Cannes Festival Awards’. There is every thing good about what happened at Cannes, one of the most prestigious films in the world. I read on and came to a passage. It reads ‘All together 1397 films were screened by the selection committee for possible screening at Cannes, of this 681 were full length feature films. In the end 52 different countries found a place at Cannes. INDIA WHICH MAKES MORE FILMS THAT ANY OTHER COUNTRY IN THE WORLD WAS NOT ONE OF THEM. The information and Broadcasting Ministry in an effort to please all section of politics submitted five films from five different regions: Samar (Hindi) Atmlayaswajan (Bengali), Biswaprakash (Oriya), Karmaram (Malayalam) and Malli (Tamil). This may have been good politics back home but not one of these films found favour with the selection committee.
That one paragraph was enough to drive me mad. I screamed with frenzy, luckily I was alone at home. I could not imagine how a country which made the largest number of films could not make one, just one film which could be considered by the selection committees of any recent festivals. This has been happening time and again. And if this is not a shame I don’t know what shame is. And this shameful shocking story continues to be told year after year and will be told till someone starts caring for cinema and not money more money and still more money which is the only thing filmmakers are sinfully interested in right now. Till this happens shame will continue to be our symbol at any festivals we enter.

JAI HO, JAI HO
A small time actor of the seventies who stood for the assembly elections recently, stood up when his turn to speak came and without looking left or right said spiritedly: bhaiyo our bahno, abhi hame bahut kaam karna hai, din rat kam karna hai kyonki uske baad paach saal sirf araam aur aiyashi karni hai (brothers and sisters it is time to work very hard now. Soon it will be time to enjoy the fruits of our labour). There was uproarious laughter among his own followers. The ex- abhineta turned neta didn’t know what he was saying. And his followers did not realise the seriousness of the neta’s speech. All the seniors leaders and the committee members were sure the neta would loose just by that one speech. No, he didn’t lose. He won by the largest majority of votes in the suburbs of Mumbai. These my friends, are the netas who lead us. Where will they lead us?