The Raakhee You Never Knew

Raakhee,
who
turns
77
on
August
15,
remains
an
enigma
wrapped
in
a
riddle.
Dinesh
Raheja
remembers
Raakhee
telling
him
how
she
loves
the
rains
and
how
she
would
drive
down
to
Tulsi
Lake
in
the
1970s
and
float
paper
boats
in
the
water.
He
would
like
to
imagine
that
Raakhee
still
does
that
at
her
farmhouse.

Before
I
became
the
editor
of

Movie
magazine
in
1988,
I
spent
a
few
years
as
a
snap-happy
photojournalist.

It
was
an
exciting
cinematic
era
when
stars
like
Sridevi,
Madhuri
Dixit,
Anil
Kapoor,
Dilip
Kumar,
Amitabh
Bachchan,
Rekha,
Raakhee
and
Salman
Khan
strode
the
studios;
and
armed
with
my
Nikon
camera,
I
sought
to
capture
their
essence
not
just
in
words
but
also
in
images.

I
begin
this
special
series
by
sharing
personal
insights
from
my
interactions
with
Raakhee
as
well
as
the
outdoors
picture
I
shot
of
her
looking
absolutely
natural
amidst
verdant
nature,
and
free
of
any
film
trappings
or
artifice.

I
captured
this
image
of
the
hazel-eyed
beauty
in
1988
at
her
Aptegaon
farmhouse
which
she
had
given
out
for
a
shoot.

I
was
wary
of
the
famously
whimsical
actress
who
had
been
a
star
for
a
dozen
years
before
I
had
even
entered
journalism.

So
the
late
Jagdish
Mali,
photographer
extraordinaire,
bluntly
introduced
me
as,
‘Raakheeji,
Dinesh
is
afraid
of
you.’

She
impishly
asked
me,
‘Main
tumko
kha
jaaungi?‘

Instead,
I
was
the
one
feasting
because
Raakhee
cooked
spicy
biryani
and
delicious
Bengali-style
fish
curry
for
the
entire
film
unit.

The
biryani
was
hot,
the
Bengali-style
fish
curry,
cooked
in
mustard
oil,
a
novelty
for
me
(I
turned
vegetarian
two
years
later,
but
that
is
another
story).
She
took
great
pride
in
her
culinary
expertise,
and
deservedly
so.

Later,
while
my
friend
Jaggi
shot
colour
pictures,
I
excitedly
shot
black
and
whites
of
this
gorgeous
woman.
She
was
shooting
at
her
lush
green
farmhouse
for
director
Vishwamitra’s
small-budget
drama,

Mere
Baad,
co-starring
Anupam
Kher.

I
feel
small
talk
reveals
more
about
stars
than
recorded
interviews.

In
the
post-lunch
break,
she
retired
with
her
hair
dresser
and
constant
companion
Khatija
to
a
room
that
had
a
creaky
fan
and
no
air
conditioner.

Since
we
had
finished
with
our
interview,
we
made
idle
talk.

Raakhee
told
me
that
she
never
eats
in
banquet
rooms
or
five-star
hotels
because
she
wasn’t
comfortable
eating
with
a
fork
and
knife.

‘Mujhe
haath
se
khaana
achha
lagta
hai,
so
I
starve
at
parties;
I
order
room
service
when
I
am
at
location
shootings.’

She
also
told
me
that
she
preferred
to
sit
in
the
middle
of
the
car
in
the
backseat.
‘I
feel
more
secure
that
way.’

A
gifted
raconteur
once
she
was
comfortable,
she
shared
how
Satyen
Bose,
the
director
of
her
first
Hindi
film,

Jeevan
Mrityu,
had
slapped
her
when
she
couldn’t
get
a
shot
right
but
had
then
consoled
her
and
asked
her
not
to
cry
because
her
tears
were
precious.

Dev
Anand,
whom
she
worked
with
in

Banarasi
Babu,
Heera
Panna
and

Lootmaar,
was
her
favourite
hero.
She
said,
‘He
doesn’t
have
a
single
enemy
in
the
industry
—
a
true
blue
gentleman.’

I
shot
more
pictures
of
Raakhee
at
the
outdoor
shooting
of
Subhash
Ghai’s

Ram
Lakhan
in
1988.
Three
actresses
—
Raakhee,
Dimple
Kapadia
and
Madhuri
Dixit
—
were
present,
but
each
would
retire
to
their
chairs
after
every
shot,
barely
exchanging
more
than
a
hello.

On
one
occasion,
she
flashed
back
to
the
early
1970s
and
revealed
how
any
date
with
Gulzar
had
to
be
a
long
drive.

One
day,
Khatija
and
she
mischievously
flicked
the
keys
of
Gulzar’s
car
and
drove
away
to
Thane
only
to
be
greeted
on
their
return
with
an
anxious
Gulzar
pacing
on
the
road.

When
I
met
Raakhee
at
her
Bandra
house
over
a
decade
ago,
she
mentioned,
‘When
I
first
came
to
Mumbai,
I
stayed
with
some
Sindhi
friends.’

So
my
wife
packed
Sindhi
curry
and

aloo
tuk
for
her.

While
relishing
the
food,
she
told
me
she
wasn’t
keen
to
do
films
anymore;
she
preferred
spending
her
mornings
reading
newspapers
from
the
first
to
the
last
page
and
busying
herself
with
housework.
‘And
I
love
going
to
my
farm.’

I
lost
touch
with
her
after
that
day.

Raakhee
turns
77
on
August
15
but
I
won’t
call
because
even
birthday
messages
have
gone
unanswered
of
late.

When
her
daughter
Meghna
Gulzar
gracefully
released
my
book

101
Haiku
a
few
years
back,
she
explained
that
her
mother
had
limited
her
interactions.

Raakhee
remains
an
enigma
wrapped
in
a
riddle.

Raakhee’s
birthday
falls
in
the
midst
of
the
rainy
season.
SD
Burman
had
lavished
the
burnished
monsoon
melody,

Megha
Chhaye
Aadhi
Raat
on
Raakhee
in

Sharmilee
while
junior
Burman
had
created
the
lilting

Saawan
Ke
Jhoole
Pade,
Tum
Chale
Aao
for
her
in

Jurmana.

I
remember
Raakhee
telling
me
how
she
loves
the
rains
and
how
she
would
drive
down
to
Tulsi
Lake
in
the
1970s
and
float
paper
boats
in
the
water.
I
would
like
to
imagine
that
Raakhee
still
does
that
at
her
farmhouse.