Friday, September 22, 2023

Lucknow in late sixties.

I had shifted to Lucknow from Dehradun in December 1966, after completing my Indian School Certificate exam ( just renamed from earlier 'Senior Cambridge exam' that year) from St. Joseph's Academy, managed by Irish Patrician brothers. (Now the Indian missionaries from Kerala have taken over the administration.) My father, who was an engineer (CWE) with the Defence forces, had come down to Dehradun to take me with him. It was  the first time I saw the  Cantonment  at Garhi, Dehradun, where the CWE office was situated. It was also the first time, I went to the Prinicipal's (Br. Duffy's) office at the school, where my father took me to ask him to send the result of the exam to him at Lucknow. I felt bad when the Principal wished me good luck and hoped I would get a good second division. I got a first division, when the result reached Lucknow later in December 1966.

Dehradun, then, was a small town, as compared to Lucknow. Only one bus ran per hour between the School  (St. Joseph's Academy) and our residence towards Clement Town at Dehradun, situated about 10 kilometre apart. The market was smaller as compared to Lucknow market, mainly situated at Paltan Bazaar and at Rajpur Road, up to Astley Hall and Connaught Place towards Chakrata Road.

Lucknow was a bigger, sparkling city as compared to sedate Dehradun. At the centre of  Lucknow was stately Hazratganj, which was about a mile long from the GPO end till the Mayfair Cinema, and a little further on towards the Gomti river. A big globe constructed by the industrialist mayor, V.R. Mohan of Mohan Meakin, adorned the park , a little away from Hazratganj, towards the Gomti bridge and CDRI (Central Drug Research Institute).


Hazratganj had a number of cinema halls, besides Mayfair, which showed English movies. There was a twin movie complex, opposite Mayfair, which housed Prince and Filmistan cinema halls. On the first floor, adjacent to the Mayfair Hall was British Council Library, which closed down later on, when I visited the place in nineties. There were two more cinema halls on either side of the road, one near the Chaudhary Sweets and another towards the Hanuman Mandir.

There was another cinema hall at the side market to the left of Mayfair and one further down at the  Lalbagh Crossing, viz. Novelty Cinema. I remember seeing a number of movies in most of these halls from 1967 to 1968

Suraiya and Dev Anand interview of 1987 in their own words

Here I present Suraiya and Dev Anand's love story, in their own words, from an interview conducted in February, 1987 by 'Star & Style', by now  a renowned defunct film magazine of Bollywood. This interview appears to be most authentic and personal of all Suraiya-Dev Anand interviews and reveals the genuineness of the affection for each other. It also throws light on the shenanigans that went on in Suraiya's house to break her heart and her impending marriage, which would have been one of the most celebrated marriage of Bollywood of all times.

Here is the complete interview:



Dev Anand – Suraiya Love Story … in their own words
She was the prettiest star of her time blessed with a melodious voice that captured millions. He was the shy, handsome newcomer try to gain a foothold in films. They met on the sets of a film and fell madly in love. Their love story had all the ingredients of a fairy-tale romance, complete with the wicked godmother (read that as grand mother). Only, unlike in the fairy tale, the grandmother triumphed and the lovers didn’t live happily ever after.
The Suraiya-Dev Anand romance was easily one of the most passionate ones of their time, and most unfortunate too, because like the others, there were no impediments like a spouse or children.
I met the two ex-lovers in an attempt to recreate the romance that had the whole-hearted involvement of all movie buffs of the time. Suraiya spoke reluctantly after much persuasion. But when she did speak, it seemed like it had all happened just yesterday. Her memories of those passion-filled days are crystal clear. Dev, on the other hand, recollected his first love with a nostalgia that betrayed the outward indifference.

“I remember the first time I met Dev, it was on the sets of ‘Vidya’. I was already an established star and he was a new comer. He was very nervous, specially in the romantic scenes. So the director asked me to try and put him at ease. I walked up to him and said, “You remind me of my favourite actor Gregory Peck.” He smiled shyly and said, “Oh you think so?” That was it. The next day I noticed that he had started copying a few of Gregory Peck’s mannerisms. He also started looking at me in a special way. I was attracted to him.
“Soon after, we were shooting in a boat and it capsized but Dev saved me from drowning. I told him, ‘if you hadn’t saved my life today, it would have ended.’ He just said quietly, ‘if your life had ended so would have mine.’ I think that’s when we fell deeply in love.”
“Dev was the first young, handsome hero I worked with. He was very charming, cultured, well-educated and had impeccable manners. It is very difficult for me to say what exactly it was that I really liked about him. I think it was his overall personality. He often told me that in spite of being a big star I was very sweet and child-like.”
Dev too recalled with fondness the girl without whom he thought he just wouldn’t survive. “Suraiya and I fell in love when we started working together. She was a very nice girl who radiated warmth and friendliness. She was an established star but had no airs about her. I was passionately in love with her. I was young, It was my first love and very intense. But her grand mother was always around. She really guarded her zealously. Suraiya’s mother though, was on my side and encouraged us. But her grand mother hated me.”
“Actually in the beginning my grandmother didn’t mind him” said Suraiya. “We even invited him over to our place for dinner once. I remember we made chicken specially for him because it was his favourite dish. Later, I too went over to his Iris Park home for dinner. His elder sister, mother and father were very fond of me. Dev was so happy that day. He saw to it that I was given VIP treatment. I remember the exquisite crockery they served the dinner in.”
“Oh yes, I remember the day she came over for dinner,” smiled Dev. “Where does she live now? Does she still live at Krishna Mahal?” he wanted to know. “I remember we used to meet on her terrace.”
“My grandmother had banned me from meeting him so we had to meet secretly on the terrace of my building. Dev would come with the late Dwarka Divecha by the backstairs. We would sit behind the water tanks and chat while downstairs, Dwarka would keep my grandmother engaged in conversation. But I was always tense. One day I saw my servant coming up and I crouched behind the tank to hide. I was afraid we would be caught red-handed one day. Dev of course assured me that we wouldn’t have to meet in this manner for long. He wanted us to get married soon…” her voice trailed off. When she spoke again she said, “Dev used to call me ‘Nosey’ because in those days my nose seemed very long on my slim face. I had nicknamed him ‘Steve’ after a character in a novel who reminded me of Dev. All his letters to me were addressed to ‘N’ and signed ‘S’. His letters were so precious to me but it was so difficult to get anything past my grandmother. Once she got wind of our romance and she tore up the letters that fell into her hands. Dev had many friends who carried messages and letters for us, like Dwarka Divecha, Durgabai Khote, Pratap Rana (Vidya Sinha’s father), Om Prakash and K.N. Singh. Dev wrote the most romantic letters. I have still preserved them. During the shooting of ‘Sanam’ his director had even devised a scene in a library where Dev had to pass me a book. Dev had actually put in a love letter inside it before passing it to me.”
“It was so frustrating to communicate with Suraiya those days what with her grandmother being around her all the time. Of course I remember passing on the letter in the book” recalled Dev.
“My grandmother wouldn’t leave us together for even a minute. Once we were shooting at Andheri and it was suddenly discovered that the earrings I was supposed to wear for the scene were left behind at home. The director decided to send my granny home to fetch it but she refused to go without me. They somehow managed to convince her that I was needed for rehearsals and as soon as she had left Dev and I sat in the make-up room in peace. Even a touch of his hand was enough to send a tremor down my spine.”
Dev spoke with just as much feeling, “I loved her dearly. The fact that she was inaccessible made me want her even more.”
“Dev liked music and he loved to hear me sing. Very often he would ask me to sing for him the song from ‘Afsar’ – ‘Nain deewane’. He used to sing ‘Man mor hua matwala.’ He always used to tell me, ‘when I marry you I will not let you step into a studio or meet any film people. You will not sing for films, you will only sing for me.’ And I would retort ‘then I won’t sing at all, not even for you.’ He would rag me and say ‘How will I go to sleep if you don’t sing’ and I would ask if he thought I sang lullabys?” recalled Suraiya affectionately.
“I liked Suraiya’s singing very much,” said Dev. “She sang so well.”
“Dev liked me in saris and when I was dressed in a simple manner. He thought I looked elegant dressed like that. Not that he didn’t appreciate me when I dressed glamorously. But he liked me best in a sari because it made me look like a housewife. In one of his letters he had written, ‘Let’s get married immediately. I’m waiting for a home life that will set an example to the rest. We’ll build a home that will be the envy of the whole world.’
“Just for fun we had started talking with an Italian accent. In keeping with the accent he would call me Suraiyana and I would call him Devino. Sometimes we talked about having kids. I would always say ‘Girl so that I can dress her up.’ And he would tease me and say, ‘You have enough dolls, why do you need another one?’ I have a passion for collecting dolls. At such times I always told him we would name our baby Devina. Years later, when I bumped into Dev and he talked of his children, I asked him what he’d named his daughter and he smiled ‘You should know. I’ve named her Devina.”
“Those days anyone on the sets was keen on playing cupid. During the outdoor shooting of D.D. Kashyap’s ‘Do Sitare’ at Lonavla, a long song sequence was planned deliberately in the haystacks. My grandmother argued and complained but couldn’t do anything about it. If it was a romantic shot, Dev always continued to hold my hand much after the director would yell ‘cut’. So my grandmother would insist that Dev be called only for the final take. I would have to rehearse with the assistants,” grinned Suraiya.
“Her grandmother would raise a hue and cry if she found that the romantic shots were taking too long for her comfort” recalled Dev.
“On the sets of Rana Pratap’s film, Dev had planned that we would get married on the sets. The scene required us to elope and get married in a temple. A real pundit had been arranged for, who was to get us married. But thanks to an assistant (he was jealous of our romance) who informed my grandmother and we couldn’t get married. She dragged me home in fury and forbade me from meeting Dev after that.’
“Once the actor Shyam, hosted a party and invited Dev and me. Dev insisted that we go together. There was a director M. Sadiq who used to be smitten by me and Dev was jealous of him. Dev knew Sadiq would be at this party and wanted us to go together just to spite him. But it was impossible to do so with granny around. So Dev suggested that I take mummy along but we’d go in his car.”
“Those days he had bought his first car, a Hillman. My mother was taken into confidence and we left home in my car and got into Dev’s car some distance away where he was waiting or us. For the first time at that party Dev and I walked in together. There was pin drop silence when we entered. Needless to say that the incident made it to the press and my grandmother made life at home miserable for me after that.”
“My parents didn’t mind Dev but my grandmother and uncle were totally against him because he was a Hindu. I was kept under constant vigil. Telephone calls were forbidden. Dev would phone me every Friday night and I would answer the call with great difficulty. Many people were brought home to drill sense into me. Naqshab, Nadira’s first husband even brought the Quran to make me swear that I would not marry Dev. ‘You’ll be the cause of Hindu-Muslim riots in the country’ they told me. I gave in only when my granny and mamu (maternal uncle) threatened to kill Dev.”
“When I told Dev that I didn’t want to be the cause of his death, he called me a coward. And I think I was. I decided to stop meeting him after that for fear of his life. We were shooting those days for a film called ‘Neeli’. We had to enter through a door and until the shot we were arguing behind the closed door. He kept saying ‘I am serious about you but you don’t care. Perhaps I don’t come up to your status.’ He got so worked up that he slapped me hard across my face. I started crying just as the director called for the shot. I did control myself and faced the camera. For days after that incident Dev apologized profusely. ‘I went home and banged my hands for what I did to you. I hated myself.’ He kept saying. It was the first time in my life that anyone had slapped me but I really didn’t mind. It showed how intensely he cared for me.”
“Dev had borrowed money from friends and bought me a diamond ring. I used to carry it in my bag. My granny discovered it and threw it into the sea outside our house. That day Dev cried like a child.”
“Yes, I did cry like a child for her that day,” confessed Dev.
“What touches me most about our romance was that Dev loved me so intensely in spite of all the insults my family heaped on him. Once they even physically pushed him out of the house. But for my sake he took it all.”
Dev remembered the hurt and humiliation he had suffered at the hands of his love. ‘They gave me hell. It hurt very much but I didn’t let it make me bitter. I cried when I lost her but slowly I got over it. If I hadn’t I would have become a majnu by now” ended Dev.
“Dev cared for me so much but I used to be so shy that perhaps Dev never realized the intensity of my feelings. Today, he says he never looks back and doesn’t care about bygones when he talks of his flops. But I know deep within, he cares for everything. He doesn’t show his hurt. He is a very sensitive man.”
“She’s right, I am a very sensitive man,” admitted Dev quietly.
It’s more than three decades now, but their romance lives on, in their hearts and in those of their fans.

(This interview was conducted by Sheila Vesuna and appeared in ‘Star & Style’ magazine, February, 1987 issue)

Thursday, September 21, 2023

My wife, Mintoo

One astrologer wrote 
in  your horoscope,
Your senior years 
Would be the happiest,
Other said,
Don't go to your inlaws' place
after retirement,
You wouldn't be at peace there.
Both were true.
You spent twenty two years
in my parents' spacious
heritage house.
So many ups and downs
We saw together.
My mother treated you
as her daughter
And would tell you
the family details 
From her own marriage times
till our marriage day
and thereafter,
which, I had never known before.
You would tell them to me
bewildering me, amusing  me
and surprising me.
My father, whom you loved
the most
treated you with kindness always.
Before him, you would 
always stand, 
And he would say
'Beta' (son), why don't you sit?
And all this you always
narrated to me.
In his nineties
You would feed him
with your own hands,
for a year,
like a child,
and the house attendant
would bathe him.
He fought old age valiantly
for two months , with gnawing 
dementia,
till he was relieved at 92 years of age on October 12, 2003 of the perishable abode on earth.
Your mother, 
you lovingly called Mamma,
stayed with her brother's family at Lucknow till 2012
When she had a heat stroke
And her elder brother, Nanda
who was very ill
Asked Mintoo to take
her Mamma with her.
For last 14 years Mamma came
for two to three months
to stay with her Mintoo.
In January 2004 you 
caught severe chest infection
In the cold climate of Dehradun.
You insisted on going to
our nephew Ajay's wedding
at Jaipur
But fell severely ill with
unknown disease 
Which later turned out,
On coming to our hometown at Dehradun
A serious irregular heart beat condition 
Which could be controlled
With medicine only in June
2006. 
Till then you bore improper 
treatment by doctors
with willpower in your 
frail frame.
Only from June 2006
Your heart 
stopped giving trouble,
but the medicine 
showed its effects
on your abdomen 
now and then.
From 2006 onwards
You lived a peaceful life
till 2008, 
When you got concerned
about our son's marriage
who was now
twenty eight years old,
but tarried getting married 
till 2014,
as he was mostly abroad.
In 2014, my mother was 
seriously ill, 92 years of age.
And after much  match- making, and having called our son from abroad
we got him married
to a girl, we chose as our lovely daughter-in-law and daughter.
To support and care for us in our old age,
not knowing you would get 
snared in a deadly, silently gnawing body devastating  disease (can call it only C)
to suddenly fall prey to its 
fangs on June 19, 2023
in my arms.....the day you were born on Feb 19 , 
seventy two years before.
In October 2014
my mother, Sarojini, a  "lotus"
left us, after six months 
fight against old age. 
But had the satisfaction of
her grandson getting
married before her in March 2014.
My Mintoo's happiness knew
no bounds....
But, I could not fulfill many
of your wishes for my
double duty towards my mother.
From 2014 till 2021
You were happy with your Mamma, now growing old
yet doing all her duties,
religious and earthly.
Mamma regarded me as 
her elder son.
In 2020, Mamma had 
a sudden fracture 
in her right femur bone. 
For six months Mamma 
lay in her bed.
Insisting to go to her Puja room
now and then.
And we together restraining her.
I never saw her so loquacious 
before.
Her spirit was happy to be with her daughter  and myself, and caring for her.
She  went to her heavenly abode on April 6, 2021.
After that, it was one disease or another 
for both of us....
Till our son took us to his  place in Gurgaon in February 2023.



















Raisina Road Officer's Hostel, New Delhi


I have vivid memories of the Raisina Road Officers Hostel in New Delhi, which was ensconced between Chelmsford Club on one side and Krishi Bhawan on the other flank. It had Dr. Rajendra Prasad Road towards Krishi Bhawan and Raisina Road towards the Chelmsford Club. The building, which was the centrepiece of the area was unfortunately demolished in late sixties or early seventies. Today the Press Club of India stands in its place.

The years I am mentioning were 1960-63, when my father, who was posted in the Central Command of the Army,  was staying in the two storied huge building, which housed about 100 very large rooms, with a corridor running in front and the portion of rear corridor partitioned for each room to provide a kitchen cum  a sitting room.

The Raisina Road Officers Hostel was built during the First World War, and was of made of brickwork, being totally in white colour, as most buildings were in those days, except for post-independence large buildings like Krishi Bhawan, which  were constructed in sandstone to match the Raisina Hills ethos of the twenties.

The Hostel was built to house the officers of the Central Government during the coming up of the capital of India of the twenties. In the sixties, when I was about 11-13 years old, I  visited my father from Dehradun during the winter breaks with my brothers. The Hostel had some well known personalities of the All India Radio, which was situated nearby towards the Connaught Place, there being a shortcut to CP from the AIFACS (All India Fine Arts and Crafts Society) building precicts on Rafi Marg. One personality  in the hostel was a lady newsreader Indu Wahi, who read the Hindi news in the A.I.R. The other was V M Chakrapani, who read the English news. He had a clipped style of reading the news. He also gave commentary for the cricket Test matches. During those days, M.C.C.  team visited India under Ted Dexter during 1961-62 season, India defeated MCC by 2-0, in which the handsome Salim Durrani was the prime wicket-taker with his left arm slow spin bowling. But I missed seeing the match at Feroz Shah Kotla. I remember, pestering my mother to take me to see the hockey match between Great Britain and India, which India won 1-0. Probably, the year was 62-63.

Those were marvellous days. Delhi was not  yet a megapolis. It had a population of about 16 lakhs only. The Inter-State Bus Stand at Dehradun was opposite the Railway Station near the Laxmi Cinema Hall and had only 3-4 buses parked at a time, while the Inter-State Bus Stand at New Delhi was at Ajmeri Gate. It was also not very large bus stop and looked more like a hill station bus terminal. Delhi in those days was not a huge city of today's dimensions and had a spirit of camaraderie between people. I miss those days.

About a mile from the Raisina Road Hostel was the India Gate, which had a canopy nearby, with the statue of George V installed under it, The former King Emperor held  a globe of the world, half of which he once ruled and had a sceptre in his other  hand. The statue was placed at that spot in 1911 during the Third Delhi Durbar.

Later, in the 60s, under the wave of nationalism, the statue was shifted to Coronation Park, Burari Road. Much time later, it was planned to install a statue of Mahatma Gandhi at the site of the canopy, but the plan was discussed and shelved by the Parliament in 1980. Instead, an 'Amar Jawan Jyoti' was placed below the India Gate. The INTACH has renovated the Coronation Park in recent years.

Outside the Raisina Road Hostel, at the triangle towards the Chelmsford Club, was a statue of a former British Governor General, possibly Lord Chelmsford. This was replaced by the statue of  lanky and enormously built Bharat Ratna, Pandit Gobind Ballabh Pant, the former Home Minister, who saved lightly  built Jawaharlal Nehru from a certain death from the baton of the Indian  police under the British in 1929-30 and got himself a life-long physical tremor.

A few decades ago, possibly in 1980s, I also saw the statues of former British Governor Generals and British monarchs lying at the back yard of the Lucknow Museum. Some of the statues were so huge that they could not be installed inside. Maybe, by now they have been at least put on a pedestal in the park outside.
Canopy without the statue of King George V 
King George V Statue under the canopy (1911-1963)

Friday, September 15, 2023

Tribute to my wife, Neeta

You came into my life

a soothing iridescent light 

blitheful amongst your friends

serene with me

respectful to elders

correct to a fault

in all circumstances.

You were modest

yet confident in tranquility 

and adversity.

You believed in God 

in the true sense,

practicing the tenets

of righteous path

in everything you said

or acted upon

with all you met,

however big or small .

You had immense power

of endurance

to bear any pain or suffering,

not showing to anybody

what you were going through.

Now, having lost you

from this perishable world

for your place

in the ethereal divine world,

I will always remember 

the finest qualities 

you lived by,

and showered their

blessings upon me

in ample measure.

Forgive me, if I fell short

before your sublime ideals

of loving and living.

( Yours for ever, Vinay)