My first film, Sapnon Ka Saudagar (1968), was produced by B. Ananthaswami, a lawyer from Chennai. He asked me if I would be ready to work with Raj Kapoor. I said, “Yes, I will.” I was fifteen.
He was quite surprised that I wasn’t hesitant or scared to say yes. This impressed him, and he said he would take me to Mumbai to introduce me to Raj Kapoor saab. We—my family and I—were all very excited. I put up in a hotel there, where I was told that Raj saab would come to meet me. Though I could not believe it, he actually did.
Ananthaswami introduced me to him, and the only thing that Raj Saab knew about me was that I was a classical dancer. Anyone else in my place would have been scared and hesitant, but for me, it was an opportunity to perform to the best of my ability. Very sweetly, Raj Saab asked me, “Aap ka test karenge, audition mein. Aap taiyar hain uske liye?” I replied, “Yes, whatever lines you give me, I will speak them.”
We then went to RK Studios. I was given a gypsy costume and a few lines to speak in front of the camera. I requested them to read out the same to me so that I understand and speak to them accordingly. I did exactly what I was told.
The same evening, after my screen test, I was invited for a party at Raj saab’s house, where he introduced me to all present. “Dekho, yeh ladki aayi hai Madras se. She is going to shine!” he announced, and kept making hand gestures pointing at the sky as he proclaimed: “A star is born!”
On working with Kapoor on set
I was hoping that Raj saab would direct the film. He felt Mahesh (Kaul) ji would be the right person to direct a newcomer. Raj saab was already busy working on Mera Naam Joker (1970), which he was producing simultaneously. Raj Saab was so disciplined that he would not interfere in Maheshji’s work as a director. He came and performed only as an actor—quietly doing his part, waiting till I got it right (sometimes over a number of takes), just co-operating by standing there and never interfered.
When, after a shot, I would ask him, “Raj saab, yeh theek tha?” he would reply, “Haan, haan, director Maheshji bataayenge kya hai.” He was that professional. I admired his patience, because throughout the first schedule, when I was making mistakes and taking several shots to get an OK, he did not utter a word.
Prior to acting with him, I had seen all his films with Nargis, Padmini, Vyjyanthimala and others. He portrayed them beautifully, giving them strong parts. I was hoping that he would cast me in Mera Naam Joker and that I would get an opportunity to work under his direction. But he didn’t feel any of the three female characters in the film would suit me. But he promised to cast me in its sequel, which he would direct and also act in. Unfortunately, that sequel never got made since the first film hadn’t done well.
A few years later, he was casting for his ambitious film, Satyam Shivam Sundaram (1978), and was very keen that I do the lead part. This offer came to me when I had already had some major hits to my credit and was part of the top slot in the industry. I was also known as someone who would never dress boldly or expose myself in any way, as they would say back in the day. He approached me with a lot of hesitation: “Aap toh nahin karengi yeh role?” He even spoke with my mother about it: “Aapki beti toh nahin karengi aisa role?”
This—he had come to my place to narrate the story—was the last time that I met Raj saab. We socialised only at events thereafter. And this was how my desire to work with Raj saab would forever remain a dream.
As told to Nayare Ali