Anupam Kher: ‘Vijaya Bai Was Brilliant, Kind, Wonderful’

‘One of the finest minds in theatre, besides being an exceptional actor and filmmaker. She showed me just how much I still had to learn and understand.’

An alumni of the National School of Drama (she later served as its chairperson), the late Vijaya Jayawant flagged off her acting career in 1953 with the Marathi play Bunjarasara.

Seven years later, Vijaya Khote — she was by then married to Durga Khote’s son; she was widowed soon after; she later married theatre actor Farrokh Mehta — co-founded the theatre group Rangayan with Vijay Tendulkar, Shriram Lagoo and Arvind Deshpande and staged plays like Mother, Shintu and Maadi.

A recipient of the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award, one of her plays, Barrister, was adapted on screen as Rao Saheb.

Anupam Kher, who played the title role in this film, as also her other directorial Pestonjee, recalls the legendary writer-actor-director Vijaya Mehta with warmth and gratitude sharing how, during the shoot of Rao Saheb, he was standing on the first floor of a 100-year-old house in Goa with his hand on the wooden railing wondering why it felt a little too cold.

“She never imposed her knowledge on you, only illuminated it. She loved her actors and I loved the way she took my name and asked me in Marathi what I was doing. Her ‘Anupam’ had a musical ring to it, and when we were working together, I would sometimes call her up just to listen to her say my name that way on the phone,” he recounts to Rediff Senior Contributor Roshmila Bhattacharya.

‘I learnt from her just how important detailing is to a performance’

When you are a gold medallist from the National School of Drama and have done films like Saaransh, you start wondering how much more can a director tell you about acting.

One of the finest minds in theatre, besides being an exceptional actor and filmmaker, Vijaya Bai was a very learned lady and highly qualified. She showed me just how much I still had to learn and understand.

Her detailing was phenomenal and that kind of detailing comes not so much from craft, but an unbelievable understanding of human nature and emotions. I learnt from her just how important detailing is to a performance.

In our industry, we have a lot of talented people, but not many are trained and qualified.

In all these years, from all that I have learnt as an actor, I’ve only tapped 40 per cent of what I’m capable of. The remaining 60 per cent was not required because when you are doing a film like Dil or Shola Aur Shabnam, you only had to follow a certain method.

I’m not running down these films — I have amazing memories of them — but they did not need the sensitivity you would require while performing (Anton) Chekhov, Arthur Miller or Munshi Premchand.

The two films I did with Vijaya Bai — the 1985 period drama Rao Saheb and Pestonjee in 1988 — were amazing experiences. I guess that’s what happens when you do less work.

Her wisdom, understanding of human behaviour, and sensitivity made every rehearsal, every shot, every retake, a learning experience and I happily became a student again.

‘I asked her why she wanted to cast me rather than Vikram Gokhale’

She was a strict director, but she never raised her voice, only her standards.

She never imposed her knowledge on you, only illuminated it.

She loved her actors and I loved the way she took my name and asked me in Marathi what I was doing.

Her ‘Anupam’ had a musical ring to it, and when we were working together, I would sometimes call her up just to listen to her say my name that way on the phone.

Our first film together, Rao Saheb, was an adaptation of Jaywant Dalvi’s Marathi novel, Andharachya Parambya, showcasing the clash between orthodoxy and progressive reform viz-a-viz the plight of women, in particular Brahmin widows in Maharashtra.

Earlier in 1977, the novel had been staged as a play, Barrister, with Vijaya Bai directing it.

When she approached me to play the title role of the England-returned barrister, I asked her why she wanted to cast me rather than Vikram Gokhale who had played the role in the stage production.

He was a very famous Marathi actor and his performance was excellent.

‘You have a problem with that?’ she quipped, adding with a smile, ‘Just relax.’

The film released in 1985 — I remember because Sanjeev Kumar passed away the same year in November — and it remains an important landmark in my career.

‘I cried out, ‘Oh God, somebody, save me”

An incident happened during its making which remains unforgettable.

We were shooting in a 100-year-old house in Goa and the shot had me coming out of the house and standing on the first floor with my hand resting on the wooden railing.

While giving it, I remember thinking that the railing felt a little too cold. But I didn’t think too much of it as my focus was on the shot.

After it was okayed, I looked down and froze.

A huge python was coiled around the log of the railing, my hand on it.

For a moment, the shock of the discovery rendered me immobile and speechless.

Then, I cried out, ‘Oh God, somebody, save me.’

I was so terrified I couldn’t even lift my hand, afraid that it would strike back if I did.

Then I heard Vijaya Bai’s voice float up to me from the ground floor, ‘Don’t worry, Anupam, the snake is a pet. It won’t gobble you up. Let’s move to the next shot.’

I learnt later that the python was indeed a pet of the two sisters who owned the house.

Later, we did Pestonjee, which was the last film Vijaya Bai directed. It bagged the National Award for Best Feature Film in Hindi. (Earlier, Rao Saheb won two National Awards: Vijaya Bai for Best Supporting Actress and Shyam Bhutkar for Best Art Direction.)

During the making of these two films, she became a dear friend, but unfortunately, in our profession, you move from one project to the next and not every project brings along a friend.

She was unwell. and losing her husband was really hard.

I miss her today, and wish I had spent more time with her.

There’s so much regret today.

I learnt about her demise on June 30 at around 15 minutes to midnight.

Around midnight, I shared my memories of her online even though at times like this, it is hard to put thoughts into words and think of someone dear in the past tense.

Memories of the person just pass by in a flash, and as I told her daughter Anahita Uberoi and the family when I met them the next day, in Vijaya Bai’s case, the two defining words in that flashback are ‘brilliance’ and ‘kindness’.

As a professional, she was absolutely brilliant. As a human being, kind and wonderful.

She will always remain alive in the lives she touched.

Photographs curated by Satish Bodas/Rediff