‘Mama Used To Hit Sanju With Chappals’

‘While she was particularly attached to Sanju, she’d spew expletives at him, and hit him with chappals when he misbehaved.’
‘She’d beat me when I was rude to my elder sister Namrata.’
‘Today you can’t whack your child, but we have grown up with two-three whacks a day.’

When girls her age were messing with crayons, little Nargis dabbed pancake and enamoured audiences as Baby Rani. Slammed as the ‘papaya-faced’ heroine in her initial films as lead, she went on to become Raj Kapoor’s serenaded muse across 16 films including Barsaat, Awaara, Shree 420, Chori Chori and Jagte Raho (between 1949 and 1956). So much so, she’s immortalised in the RK Films emblem.

Modelled after a poster of Barsaat, the silhouette of a young Raj holding a violin in his left hand while his right arm holds Nargis, her head tossed back, is hailed as a metaphor of timeless love.

At 28, Nargis played the matriarch in the Oscar-nominated Mother India (1957), which also made her the first Indian actress to win the Best Actress at the Karlovy Vary international film festival (1958). The infamous fire on the set of the film where she was rescued by co-star Sunil Dutt was a consecration of sorts.

It threw open a new life where she revelled in being ‘Mrs Dutt’ and playing mother to their three children, Sanjay Dutt, Namrata Dutt and Priya Dutt apart from her political and altruistic commitments.

Here, Priya Dutt remembers her mother Nargis and the undying love story of their parents that shaped her priorities, and tells Farhana Farook, “Dad often faced financial crisis. He once shared that during the filming of Reshma Aur Shera (1971), they were so strapped of funds that there was no money for our school uniforms. Mom liked collecting coins. She emptied her box, counted the sum — around Rs 500 — and got our uniforms ready.”

‘My mother wanted to become a doctor’

My mother Nargis lived in the Chateau Marine building on Marine Drive, south Mumbai. Hers was a bustling joint family with her brothers (actors Anwar Hussain and actor/filmmaker Akhtar Hussain) and their families. She studied in Queen Mary’s school at Grant Road.

A bright student, she wanted to be a doctor because her father (entrepreneur Abdul Rashid) had studied to become one but never fulfilled the dream. Her mother Jaddanbai, besides being a noted classical singer, was a film producer (Sangeet Movietone).

Mom began featuring as a child actor, Baby Nargis, in her productions.

When she was around seven, she featured in Talash-E-Haq, followed by Sher Dil Aurat, Shadi Ki Raat, Madam Fashion, Tamanna and Pardanasheen between 1935 and 1942.

Her films as a leading lady including Barsaat, Jogan, Deedar, Awara, Shree 420 and Mother India (between 1949 and 1957) won her massive stardom.

Though she couldn’t complete her matriculation, Mom was an avid reader. She read a book a day, building her own library over time. Alex Haley’s Roots: The Saga of an American Family, Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre’s Freedom At Midnight, Salman Rushdie’s novels and the Agatha Christie collection were among her favourites.

Nargis and Sunil Dutt’s Enduring Love Story

During his college days, Dad (Sunil Dutt) being a huge fan, used to wait outside Mom’s house to catch a glimpse of her driving away in her Riley car. When he became a radio host for Lux Ke Sitare on Radio Ceylon, he interviewed legends like Dilip Kumar uncle, Balraj Sahniji, but somehow never got an opportunity to invite Mom on his show.

So, when he was offered Mehboob Khan’s Mother India (1957) he was ecstatic!

While Dad was shy, Mom was an extrovert. She’d interact with everyone on the set and share meals with the crew. She was loved by all.

Dad admired these qualities.

Much has been written about the fire that broke on the set and how Dad rescued Mom.

‘I’d have saved anyone else in her place. The truth is I fell in love with the woman she was,’ he told us.

What touched his heart was the fact that Mom went out of her way to help Dad’s sister (Raj Rani Bali) get treated for tuberculosis without him even knowing about it.

‘She was bindaas and would visit theatres in a burqa to watch films’

Dad and Mom got married in 1958.

Marriage was a huge transition in her life. She had worked from the age of seven, and had missed so many things in life.

She wanted to enjoy being a wife and mother. She never regretted giving up acting.

When offered films, she’d say, ‘I already have three productions on hand,’ referring to us three (Sanjay, Namrata, Priya).

As a kid, I wasn’t aware of her work as an actor. Later, I watched a few films of hers including Chori Chori (1956), Mother India (1957) and Raat Aur Din (1967). She was spontaneous both as a person and performer. I see that similarity in Sanju.

In Raat Aur Din, her character is a split personality. It took about 10 years to complete. Sanjay, Namrata and I were born during that time. She completed this film as it was backed by her brothers (AAN Productions).

In the song Dil Ki Gihra Khol Do, she was carrying me and so had to wear a corset to appear slim in the gown. Being the youngest, I was her tail and had the most fun with her. She’d say, ‘I’ve to attend a wedding. You come along with me.’

I’d happily tag along as I loved seeing brides.

She’d take us for picnics over the weekends in her van. We’d visit Tulsi Lake in Goregaon (north west Mumbai).

Filmmaker Amarjeet uncle, who was Dad’s friend, would prepare biryani for us. She was bindaas and would visit theatres in a burqa to watch films! She had no qualms about having pani puri from street stalls. She was moonh-fat (candid) but straight up.

You couldn’t cross the line with her.

Mom participated in our school activities and even directed plays for our annual show. She’d always be around when I came home for lunch during the break. She’d even pick me up from school.

While she was particularly attached to Sanju, she’d spew expletives at him, and hit him with chappals when he misbehaved. She’d beat me when I was rude to my elder sister Namrata. Today you can’t whack your child but we have grown up with two-three whacks a day.

When Sanju was sent to the Lawrence School in Sanawar, she missed him terribly. Dad wanted Sanju to be ‘disciplined’. Mom would run at the drop of a hat to visit him.

As a wife, she supported Dad in all his endeavours, be it his production house Ajanta Arts or establishing the Ajanta Arts Cultural Troupe, which entertained Indian soldiers on the borders.

Dad often faced financial crisis. He once shared that during the filming of Reshma Aur Shera (1971), they were so strapped of funds that there was no money for our school uniforms. Mom liked collecting coins. She emptied her box, counted the sum — around Rs 500 — and got our uniforms ready.

‘After surgery, she slipped into coma for three months’

Mom was detected with pancreatic cancer around 1979 and was admitted to the Sloan Kettering Institute in the US. Overnight, our lives changed.

Dad left everything to be with her. He’d rented an apartment close to the hospital but never went there except to shower.

He’d keep chanting ‘Om Namah Shivay‘ while doing parikrama (circumambulation) of the hospital building. Mom was a devotee of Sai Baba. She underwent seven surgeries in two weeks. After that, the doctors said they couldn’t operate on her anymore.

Dad called Namrata and me there to seek our support. He didn’t want to give up. We signed the papers so they could further operate on her.

After the surgery, she slipped into a coma for three months.

Dad would sit beside her bed and as advised, would keep talking to her because coma patients can hear. After six-seven months, Mom began recovering. But she’d lost muscle.

She had to learn to walk again.

We’d kept all mirrors away from her because the blood transfusions had made her dark. But one day, with the help of the walker she went to the bathroom. She happened to glance at herself in the mirror and broke down saying, ‘Will this be my life now?’

It was heartbreaking because she used to be so particular about her appearance. We’d get her soft toys and cards from the gift shop to cheer her spirits.

One particular day, Mom was in a bad mood. Just then Dad said, ‘I have a surprise for you.’

Sanju walked into her room. He’d flown from Mumbai to meet her. After a long time, we saw her smile.

A few days later, she told Dad, ‘I want to go back. If anything has to happen to me, I don’t want it to happen here.’

She returned home in March 1981.

She was extremely fond of her dogs. Ringo, her favourite, had passed away while she was in hospital. When she got to know of it, she cried bitterly. She asked about another of her much-loved pet Sylvie, saying, ‘Look at that girl Sylvie! She’s not even come to meet me.’

Little did she know that Sylvie too had passed on. After her return, my parents celebrated their wedding anniversary. Mom feared it would be their last. She wore her wedding sari, a simple green and red one.

‘I told Dad he dare not marry again’

Within a few days, Mom developed a urinary infection due to poor immunity. She breathed her last on May 3, 1981. She was 52.

Dad was a broken man. He slipped into severe depression. He couldn’t sleep in their bedroom.

He used to wake up and ask, ‘Where is she?’

In the middle of the night, he’d visit the kabrastan and sit beside her grave. He took to chain smoking and drinking.

One evening, I took him to our terrace and said, ‘Dad, look at the brightest star. Wherever we go, that star (referring to Mom) will always be watching over us.’

That made him realise that now his youngest daughter had something to tell him. From that moment onwards, he chucked smoking and took charge of his life. His life took a 360-degree turn.

In memory of Mom, he established the Nargis Dutt Foundation in 1982 to spread cancer awareness. He directed the film Dard Ka Rishta (1982) to convey that cancer is not a death sentence. Mom was the first patron of The Spastics Society of India. He took over as the patron after her demise. He worked to keep her name alive.

Initially, Dad used to get letters from women saying, ‘We want to marry you… we’ll look after your children.’

I told Dad he dare not marry again. His reply would be, ‘Where will I be able to find someone like your mother?’

Years later, we realised how lonely he must be.

We told him, ‘Dad, if you like someone, it’s okay.’

He smiled and said, ‘I haven’t found anyone like your mother, so that’s not going to happen.’

He was a great father. Whether it was my brother’s addiction, court cases, jail term, Dad was always there. He never missed our birthdays or school functions, even that of his grandkids.

I was having minor surgery once. He was a Union minster those days and was busy.

I told him, ‘Dad, don’t come, it’s no big deal.’

Suddenly there was a buzz as he walked into the hospital corridor.

‘How could I not come?’ he asked with a smile.

Family is priority — that’s the legacy, the lesson he’s left behind.

Photographs curated by Satish Bodas/Rediff