‘He was always very indulgent towards me, a bit like a father to a wayward son’

‘Satyadev
Dubey
left
without
writing
the
dialogues
for
the
end
of

Mandi.
So
there
would
be
brainstorming
sessions
before
every
scene.’

‘One
particular
scene
needed
a
dramatic
opening
line
and
no
one
could
come
up
with
something
strong
enough.’

‘Suddenly,
I
found
myself
saying:
‘Why
doesn’t
the
madam
of
the
brothel
(Shabana
Azmi)
tell
her
patron
Guptaji
(Kulbhushan
Kharbanda):
“Do
you
think
we
are
a
herd
of
cattle
that
you
can
move
us
anywhere
at
your
will?”‘

‘Shyam
instantly
said:
“We
have
got
our
opening
line”.’

‘I
was
a
junior
assistant
but
he
had
moved
beyond
the
constraints
of
hierarchy.’

When

Joy
Bimal
Roy,
the
late
great
filmmaker
Bimal
Roy’s
only
son,
wanted
to
learn
film
craft,
he
decided
on
Shyam
Benegal
as
his
mentor.

Joy
became
Benegal’s
assistant
director
over
three
films,

Mandi,
Trikal
and

Susman.

Joy
Bimal
Roy
records
his
impressions
of
Shyam
Benegal
who


passed
away
on
December
23,
and
tells

Dinesh
Raheja,
“Shyam
Benegal
treated
stars
and
assistants
with
the
same
unfailing
courtesy.”

What
role
did
Shyam
Benegal
play
in
your
life?

Shyam
Benegal
was
my
mentor
and
guru
in
film
craft.
What
I
knew
before
I
met
him
was
merely
theory.
He
plunged
me
headlong
into
the
mad
world
of
a
two-month-long
outdoor
shoot
for

Mandi
(1983).

I
had
to
stand
in
the
scorching
sun
for
hours,
deal
with
people
who
didn’t
like
me
and
vice
versa,
all
for
the
first
time
in
my
hitherto
sheltered
existence.

He
also
played
a
major
role
in
my
growth
as
a
person
and
taught
me
how
to
deal
with
the
world.

I
will
miss
Shyam.
May
his
great
soul
rest
in
peace
eternally.

Which
is
the
most
striking
anecdote
that
immediately
springs
to
your
mind
when
you
think
of
Mr
Benegal?

He
introduced
me
to
the
joys
of
drinking
Scotch
whisky
by
emotionally
blackmailing
me.

He
said
the
only
way
I
could
be
permitted
into
his
hotel
room
after
the
shoot
to
discuss
the
day’s
work
and
plan
the
next
day
was
if
I
joined
him
for
a
drink;
he
used
to
drink
Ballantine.

And
so
began
my
love
affair
with
whisky.

Did
Mr
Benegal
ever
express
his
admiration
for
your
father
Bimal
Roy?

We
never
discussed
my
father.

How
did
you
become
his
assistant
director?

I
saw

Bhumika
and
instantly
decided
that
I
wanted
to
learn
about
cinema
from
the
creator
of
this
masterpiece.

My
mother
was
relieved
that
I
was
showing
interest
in
some
form
of
work
at
last.
She
phoned
Shyam
and
he
told
her
to
send
me
across
to
his
office.

I
still
remember
the
date:
September
9,
1982.

He
said:
‘Pack
your
bags.
We
leave
for
Hyderabad
for
two
months
in
a
week.’

And
so
began
my
journey.

What
was
your
impression
of
him
as
a
boss?

He
was
a
very
democratic
boss
and
was
especially
kind
to
me.
He
treated
stars
and
assistants
with
the
same
unfailing
courtesy.

He
had
a
brilliant
mind
and
a
photographic
memory.
We
would
end
up
discussing
life,
love
and
the
soul,
and
I
would
always
come
away
feeling
enriched.

Here’s
an
example
of
his
humility
and
willingness
to
accept
ideas
from
even
the
most
junior
member
of
his
crew.

Satyadev
Dubey
left
without
writing
the
dialogues
for
the
end
of

Mandi.
So
there
would
be
brainstorming
sessions
before
every
scene.

One
particular
scene
needed
a
dramatic
opening
line
and
no
one
could
come
up
with
something
strong
enough.

Suddenly,
I
found
myself
saying:
‘Why
doesn’t
the
madam
of
the
brothel
(Shabana
Azmi)
tell
her
patron
Guptaji
(Kulbhushan
Kharbanda):
“Do
you
think
we
are
a
herd
of
cattle
that
you
can
move
us
anywhere
at
your
will?”‘

Shyam
instantly
said:
‘We
have
got
our
opening
line.’

I
was
a
junior
assistant
but
he
had
moved
beyond
the
constraints
of
hierarchy.

Tell
us
more
about
the
person
behind
the
persona.

I
got
a
taste
of
Shyam’s
empathy
for
people
while
working
for
him.
During
the
making
of

Mandi,
a
lot
was
going
on
under
the
surface.

One
of
Shyam’s
assistants
was
planning
her
own
film
and
wanted
to
cast
the
lead
actress
of

Mandi.
That
was
her
sole
agenda.

She
arranged
a
dinner
in
honour
of
her
prospective
producer
and
invited
everyone
except
me.

Shyam
came
to
know
about
it
so
he
called
me
to
his
room
and
said:
‘I
am
inviting
you
for
the
dinner.
You
have
to
come.’

It
was
his
way
of
showing
that
he
cared
for
my
feelings
and
was
willing
to
stick
his
neck
out
for
me.
I
can
never
forget
his
kindness
towards
me.

Ankur,
Nishant,
Manthan,
Bhumika
and

Junoon
can
be
credited
with
starting
the
art
film
movement
in
Hindi
cinema.
Was
he
aware
of
his
place
in
propagating
alternative
cinema?

He
carried
his
laurels
lightly.
I
think
he
was
unfazed
by
recognition.

I
remember
seeing
him
at
an
event
on
TV.

When
the
MC
said:
‘Mr
Benegal,
please
say
something,’
he
said,
‘Something’
with
a
deadpan
expression.

I
couldn’t
stop
laughing.
The
pompous
MC
collapsed
like
a
pricked
balloon.

Mr
Benegal
introduced
Shabana
Azmi
and
Smita
Patil
to
films
but
by
the
time

Mandi
was
made,
they
were
major
stars.
How
did
he
juggle
both
artistes?

He
treated
both
actresses
equally.

He
easily
managed
such
a
huge
cast
in

Mandi.
He
was
a
people’s
person.

Mr
Benegal
was
known
for
making
socially
relevant
dramas.

Mandi
was
his
first
film
with
a
broad
satirical
streak.
Was
the
dry
wit
a
reflection
of
his
real
life
persona?

He
was
very
witty
and
a
great
raconteur.
The
narrative
in

Mandi
followed
the
present
continuous.
It
mimicked
real
time.
It
was
quite
a

tour
de
force.

He
came
from
the
ad
film
world.
I
believe
he
was
also
a
refined
sophisticate.

He
wined
and
dined
me
at
the
best
restaurants
in
Paris;
he
was
a
gourmet
and
a
gourmand.
He
knew
exactly
what
to
order
in
all
cuisines.

He
was
not
only
a
man
of
great
sophistication
and
culture
but
showed
generosity
of
spirit.

He
flew
me
business
class
to
Paris
to
shoot
the
last
scene
of

Susman
and
extended
the
ticket
to
London
because
I
told
him
I
hadn’t
been
abroad
for
over
20
years
and
wanted
to
visit
England.

He
treated
me
as
an
equal,
and
that’s
the
highest
form
of
appreciation
I
could
get
from
my
mentor.

He
liked
to
repeat
his
crew:
Vanraj
Bhatia
for
the
music,
Ashok
Mehta
as
cinematographer
and
Shama
Zaidi
as
the
writer.

Yes.
He
liked
his
comfort
zone
with
both
technicians
and
actors,
and
that
is
why
he
repeated
them.

He
opted
for
Ashok
Mehta
in
the
three
films
I
did
with
him
only
because
his
old
compatriot,
ace
cameraman
Govind
Nihalani,
had
turned
to
direction.

He
turned
to
Shama
Zaidi
because
Satyadev
Dubey
stormed
out
of

Mandi
before
its
completion.

Shama
happens
to
be
his
wife
Nira’s
classmate,
so
it
increased
comfort
levels.

By
the
late
’80s,
the
art
film
movement
was
drawing
to
a
close.
Did
that
affect
him?
Did
he
ever
consider
making
a
film
with
more
commercial
elements?

He
had
dreamed
of
making
a
musical
based
on
the
Spanish
film

Carmen.

That
would
have
been
mainstream
possibly
but
it
remained
just
a
dream.

When
his
film
didn’t
get
a
proper
theatrical
release,
would
it
frustrate
him?
Is
that
why
he
turned
to
TV?

I
never
saw
him
lose
his
cool
in
any
situation,
however
fraught.

And
what’s
wrong
with
television?
We
can’t
do
without
it
now.

Why
did
you
stop
assisting
him?

The
project
he
undertook
after

Susman
was

Yatra
which
was
a
rail
journey
across
India.

I
simply
loathe
trains,
particularly
the
loos.
The
choice
was
clear.

When
I
spoke
to
Mr
Benegal
last
year,
he
said
that
Clint
Eastwood
directing
films
at
93
inspires
him.
Did
you
follow
his
career
till
the
last
and
stay
in
touch?

I
did
see
a
few
of
his
films.
I
loved

Welcome
to
Sajjanpur.

We
retained
contact,
even
if
it
was
not
on
a
regular
basis.

Whenever
I
went
to
see
him
at
his
office,
it
was
almost
as
though
no
time
had
passed.

We
just
picked
up
from
where
we
had
left
off.
We
had
a
very
special
relationship.

Do
you
recall
him
encouraging
your
subsequent
endeavours?

Recently,
I
sent
him
my
book

Ramblings
Of
A
Bandra
Boy.

Not
only
did
he
read
it,
he
sent
me
a
letter
glowing
with
praise.

It
brought
tears
to
my
eyes.
He
was
always
very
indulgent
towards
me,
a
bit
like
a
father
to
a
wayward
son.