In Focus: Poetry, pain, passion and Rekha

Today, when asked if he can imagine anyone other than Rekha as UmraoJaan, Muzaffar Ali insists he can't. But back in the '80s, when the writer, producer and director decided to adapt MirzaHadiRuswa's 1905 Urdu novel, UmraoJaan Ada, he admits that he had a lot of choices before him to play Amiran, who is kidnapped by her neighbour and sold to the madam of a brothel, and grows up to become Lucknow's famous courtesan. He surprised everyone by opting for the Bollywood diva who, being a Tamilian, had to learn the delicate nuances of an alien language.

Ali however insists the character needed a particular stance and sharpness, speaking eyes and an actress who embodied romance. And while Rekha wasn't a kathak dancer, she had the body language and bhav of one. And through song-and-dance conveyed a range of emotions which seesawed from optimism to a shattering realisation.

"I'm not a great film buff so I hadn't seen much of her work. I didn't want to having decided to mould her my way without seeing what she'd been like in the hands of other directors," Ali points out, adding that perhaps Rekha herself 'smelt' something different about this film because she stayed committed to it till the end.

In an earlier interview, the late FarooqShaikh who played Umrao's princely parmour, Nawaz Sultan, had revealed how he, along with Rekha and Dina Pathak, had to take a train from Delhi to Lucknow for the shoot. It was a 14-hour overnight journey in winter. They had been promised bedding and breakfast but once the train started, they realised that the production guy had forgotten to load the bedding.

"Dinaji had a shawl but Rekhaji had only a dupatta to ward off the biting cold. It was freezing and forget about sleeping, we couldn't even sit without our teeth chattering. Yet, not a word of complaint passed through Rekhaji's lips," he flashbacked.

On the return journey, they ensured that the bedding was in place but after getting off in Delhi, discovered that there was no car waiting. Her identity camouflaged by the dupatta, Rekha uncomplainingly stood besidesShaikh in the taxi queue for 35 minutes. As the cab whisked them away, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Given how big a star she was then, had anyone recognisedRekhaji, she'd have been treated like a queen. But I would have surely landed in a hospital with a few broken bones for coming between her fans and their idol," he'd laughed.

Ali reasons that when you're filming on location, there are times when you end up with unit members who aren't as professional as you'd wish and star-gazers on bikes driving past the mustard fields. But none of it affected Rekha temperamentally. And the performance bagged her the National Award for Best Actress. While many believed the country's highest honour should have gone to Jennifer Kapoor for her portrayal of the lonely schoolteacher in 36 Chowringhee Lane, Ali argues that Rekha deserved it for her startling metamorphosis on screen.

The film also bagged National Awards for art director Manzur, music director Khayyam and playback singer AshaBhosle. It's still remembered for its musical gems like Dilcheezkyahai, Justujujiskithi, Inaankhonkemastike and Yehkyajagahhaidoston. The lyrics were penned by Shahryar, a noncompromising, non-Bollywood poet and an Urdu teacher. "One the prescribed books which he taught was UmraoJaan Ada. So, he understood the character well and brought out her pain, pathos and passion in his poetry. He used to stay in my house in Juhu.

Khayyam saab lived just across the road and we would often meet for discussions through which the score evolved," Ali remembers.

Most of the dances were choreographed by KumudiniLakhia but since he wanted a creative distinction between Inaankhonkemasti and Dilcheezkyahai, Ali got Gopi Krishna to direct the latter, along with Raagmala. "Rekha was comfortable with both but Gopi Krishna's moves came naturally to her since he was more commercial. Kumudini had nothing to do with Bollywood and brought a certain realism into the dances," says Ali, revealing that he reshot Yehkyajagah had doston completely because after watching the fiveday shoot he felt it lacked emotional depth. "Rekha went through it again knowing it would add value to the film."

It did. Even three decades later, one is haunted by the image of UmraoJaan who has lost her lovers to class distinctions and the cops and her home to the British, ending up with a bunch of refugees in her hometown, Faizabad. There the pariah entertainer breaks into song, Yehkyajagahhaidoston. Her mother recognises her lost daughter and welcomes her into their home. But her younger brother intervenes and closes the door on her. And a desolate UmraoJaan returns to the nowdeserted brothel and the profession which has tainted her life forever.

By Roshmila Bhattacharya (14th April 2015)