“An institution that defines discipline”
It was close to 4 am, but there were still a few people left with enough energy to keep dancing at the party. Amitabh Bachchan and I were among those still shaking our legs. It was his brother’s marriage party at a Mumbai hotel. Then, I suddenly noticed that Amitabh had disappeared.
I got a call from Manoj Kumarji in the afternoon:
“Kaisa dost hai yar tumhara”, his words dripping with admiration and marvel in equal measure. As it turned out, Amitabh had reached the shooting location for the 7 am shift at Panvel—not less than a 90-minute drive.
Manoj Kumar, the director and producer of the movie, was expected to reach the sets before anyone else. But he found Amitabh, fresh, eager and prepared, waiting for him even before the shift began. Nobody knows where Amitabh took a shower, when he changed clothes and how he reached there even before the director.
I also vividly recall a shot in Kaala Patthar (1979,
above). Amitabh and I, with a shovel on my shoulders, were to walk towards each other, exchanging unfriendly looks. It was to be filmed against the rising sun. For a person like me, Yash Chopra had to make a request to wake up early for the shot and I agreed. But Amitabh was already at the spot even before the cameramen arrived: “Chaliye main taiyar hun.”
By God! Punctuality, professionalism, discipline, Amitabh defines all this. He has always been the man yearning for perfection—a superhuman with his inbuilt discipline.
All this explains why he is what he is. For any aspiring actor, or anyone with ambitions to achieve anything big in life, Amitabh’s story is something to learn from. If Amitabh is ‘the’ Amitabh Bachchan today, it is because of what he has done in totality.
I firmly believe Amitabh, the forever young man, is an institution. I have only called Satyajit Ray and Dilip Kumar institutions before.
Amitabh is also an inspiration because he faced every problem that an ordinary man faces in life—a medical emergency, financial crisis, professional challenges and emotionally difficult moments. It was so difficult to see him at Breach Candy Hospital after the Coolie accident (in 1982). It required grit and determination to come out of it and bounce back in life.
I have very fond memories of being with Amitabh. I met him first at Mehmood Bhai’s house.
A tall, affable man, I instantly started liking him. Mehmood Bhai’s younger brother Anwar and Amitabh would often visit my Bandra flat. Soon, Amitabh and I became good friends, visiting clubs and dancing at the discos together, and I was always mesmerised by his dance.
Our friendship grew because of other reasons. We were from the Hindi belt—I was from Bihar, he from UP—and both were seen as underdogs. Both were self-made and from the same Chitransh community. We both praised each other’s sense of humour. There were some
“I refused the cake he sent for his son’s wedding as I had not been invited. I wish him a long and happy life. If he sends me a cake now, I will accept it”
quirky reasons too. Just count the number of the letters in our names—15 each in both. We valued all this a lot. We even shared the same secretary— Pawan Kumar—for several years, and it was a unique thing for two Bollywood stars. But such was our friendship.
Amitabh was thoda junior to me in Bollywood, but in terms of stardom, he reached much, much higher than me. Then the days of his superstardom arrived. We remained friends, having done several films together like Shaan, Naseeb, Dostana and Kaala Patthar. And I was supposed to do some of his movies—Sholay, Deewar to name a few. Similarly, I heard Amitabh wanted to do Kalicharan, but I did it eventually.
There were a bit of ups and downs in our relationship, and you can attribute those to the stupidity of our respective stardom and the free spirits of our youth, making a few people speculate about us—Kaun bhari pad gaya Kaala Patthar mein and kaun chha gaya. But I distinctly remember we always had pure warmth for each other.
There used to be a sweeping sense of pure awe the moment Amitabh
entered the set. Though he was friendly, and one could hear peals of laughter in the makeup room, he always maintained his dignity. On the sets, I guess he preferred to be alone, perhaps to stay focused on the job at hand. Sometimes, he seemed a lonely man at the top. He often praised me for my ability to memorise long dialogues, and when I think of him, I always found him coming prepared from home. He would slip into the character in his car, or in the vanity van. His commitment to work was phenomenal. It still is.
I find him as one of the few in the film industry with exceptional command of the language. A very good orator, a learned man and a real intellectual. Though at times, some may find him artificial, he is natural and self-made, and his biggest forte, like me, has been his confidence and an unshakable belief in his abilities.We are friends, and will always remain the same. I hold him in high esteem. ■