The World According to Aishwarya Rai Bachchan

Published: Verve Magazine, Cover Story, March 2011
Photographs by Mike Ruiz

Aishwarya Rai Bachchan’s natural precociousness springs up at every twist in the traveller’s tale. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh watches the ex-Miss World-turned-moviestar-and-homemaker switch from child to Inca queen, Bollywood dramatist to casual honeymooner, lost tourist to Disneyworld explorer, through loud giggles, flashing smiles, dramatic enunciations and passionate inflections, exploring a few of her many memorable journeys

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A little girl sets sail for the world in an “enormous ship”. The romantic notion of travel becomes a kaleidoscopic reality, possibly even a way of life, with her “shippie” dad and family. It is the mid ’80s when Japan is “very disciplined” and China is yet to come into its own. Around a decade later, winning the Miss World pageant makes her “a cultural ambassador of India” in places unpronounceable. And through it all, Aishwarya Rai Bachchan has felt the power of being Indian, of coming from “a world within the world”.

Since then, there have been movie shoots in exotic locales: from a desert full of water bodies in Latin America to remote towns in India, brand endorsements in cobble-stoned Europe, and the world becoming a stage, literally, with performances like the Unforgettable World Tour. “I will go out and experience a place, I won’t live in an ivory tower, while gauging it and being responsible. Ever since Miss World, people have given me a lot of love – whether you call it recognition or adulation, they have always been expressive in their connectivity with me. When they saw me on the streets, it wasn’t like ‘Ay, Aishwarya!’ – women would come forward blessing and embracing me.”

Always politically correct, her carefully polished voice modulating with occasional bursts of enthusiasm, the intrepid traveller sits easy, knowing that the subject of the day is one she can be naturally passionate about. She points out that while the world advanced technologically, becoming a “smaller place”, her life mirrored the advancement: “Everything became from a 14-hour or 18-hour flight to ‘just an overnighter’, because you started doing it so often. Abhishek (Bachchan) and I love flights – we’re psychotic that way.” And, as she inevitably spends an exorbitant amount of time in transit, the covert people watcher admits “feeling a lot for elderly Indian passengers who walk around staring at monitors. Airports can be overwhelming – with the distances, pace, people and security checks; and while they have become second nature to me, I can still relate to how the experience can be for the uninitiated.”

South Africa: “I had a funny feeling inside me – looking outside the airplane window – a sense of going away.”
There are three times that Aishwarya Rai Bachchan recalls feeling this way, with a distinct sense of poignancy. It began with the flight to South Africa as she left to compete for, and win, the Miss World pageant title in 1994. “I suddenly felt that I would be away from everyone and alone for a month. And the thought of being with a whole lot of people foreign to you; but when you get there, you just fit in. I don’t know if it was a premonition or not, but I sensed that life was changing.”

London: “When you land there in winter, you barely wake up from the jetlag and feel that it is dark, like night again.”
In London, where she was to spend a year as the reigning Miss World, she had the option to have her own apartment or to live with a family in their house. “And I, being the responsible one, chose to stay in a house with a very sweet elderly couple rather than alone in an apartment, knowing my family would feel more secure. It’s a very Indian thing.” It was the first time she was living on her own: “For further studies I never went outside of Mumbai, because my father was a marine engineer, and it was just my brother, mum and I living together; I would feel for my mother and didn’t want to leave her and go away.”

Shanghai: “Suddenly Shanghai was an absolutely different city, and the world was beginning to talk about the change in China.”
It was a very different China during her repeat journey in 1994, when she went as a model with Hemant Trevedi. “Shanghai was a symbol of that change – the modernisation and globalisation, like the US on this side of the world. This was a new culture, very much in keeping with the times or ahead of the time. Very interested in India and Indian fashion and it was almost a privilege to be there with our fashion and our designers.”

China: “This time I was shooting a song on the Great Wall doing a little jig!”
In 1994, she had walked up to the fifth gate of the Great Wall, with a “more grown-up taking away, recognising the passion of generations working on building this incredible wonder that we live with on our planet”. She was back on the Great Wall as an actor, shooting the song Poovukkul, which showcased the Seven Wonders of the World, for Shankar’s Jeans. “You never know when you are going to revisit a certain part of the world. As a kid, when I was there in the ’80s, they took us to a uniquely Chinese opera, and sang some of our Hindi songs, with all the Chinese in the audience looking at us because we were the one Indian family sitting there. You’ve heard of people in China and Russia listening to our music, our film songs, and then to think, on my third visit there, I was shooting a song, with a live audience of people fascinated by our cinema and the song culture of our movies.”

Times Square and historic sites: “I am an actor – it means you have to do everything!”
Dancing atop the Great Wall – did it feel ridiculous at all? “Interestingly enough, never,” Aishwarya answers decisively. “From the beginning, I never felt odd. When shooting for Aur Pyar Ho Gaya, I remember Bobby (Deol), even though he belongs to an actor-family, feeling a bit odd when we had to do ridiculous things in public arenas, like jump on a car, or run on the street with a toothbrush in our hand and toothpaste on our face.” Or the time when she was in New York City shooting for Aa Ab Laut Chalein in Times Square wearing a fuschia pink gown with a bow, big earrings and a flower in her hair. “I had no inhibitions. You’ve grown up watching it, song and dance is so much a part of our cinema that you don’t feel silly doing it.”

Disneyland: “We both were like excited kids – free, happy and wonderfully reliving our childhood.”
A youthful exuberance springs up as she recalls memories of the past. “That family trip (’80s) that started with Japan ended with Disneyland, and Abhishek and I ended our honeymoon – after Bora Bora’s ‘drop in the ocean’ experience – in Disneyland. It wasn’t planned, but worked out beautifully into a great circle.”

Tunisia: “In my interviews, when I say ‘Every day I feel like a newcomer, or every day is like the first time’ there are those special moments when I actually feel that, very, very strongly.”
The third time she felt “the pit of the stomach feeling” was when she took off to shoot for “one of the best film experiences”, The Last Legion in Tunisia and Slovakia. “Not only did I have no one from my nationality on the crew, it was a guy flick – everybody was a dude! I was going to be a warrior, this action character. I was feeling it again: going away for a very long period, and I had to step away from very interesting work that was happening here. I had gone through that predicament too many times in my life and career: ‘Heck, all good things happening, do I have to choose?’” Without any idea of the geography of Tunisia, she was bowled over by the spectacular beauty of the country. She arrived three days before the shoot, without rehearsal. “Everyone was in panic mode, but my dancing helped me, I embraced action instantly. Beautiful Mediterranean water, very hot and warm…a bit much in the costumes, with all that armour! The places were so quaint and simple that we all became that much closer as a group.”

Slovakia: “These guys are HUGE. When you sit on these buggers, you don’t walk straight for two days after.”
Slovakia was familiar because she had been to Prague. She found the “cold (weather) and green” country replete with beautiful castles. “We were all like kids. We had so much fun working together, and such incredible discipline – whether it was Colin (Firth) or Sir Ben (Kingsley) – we were like children in a giant videogame.” And the most remarkable experience was spending time on horseback. She emits a loud, expressive laugh: “The horses in Tunisia are one size and then you get to Slovakia and you realise that the horses there are different. These guys are HUGE. When you sit on these buggers, you don’t walk straight for two days after!”

Budapest: “Ajay kept telling Sanjay (Leela Bhansali) that the two things he dreaded the most, dancing and singing, were what Sanjay made him do in the film.”
Budapest was special because Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam was shot there, for which she got her first Best Actress award. She recalls with a smile, the dance sequence with a rather nervous Ajay Devgn. “It was exceptional because it was an insight into their culture – the music and dance sequence was local to the place. So you actually experienced something unique, apart from the magnificence of being by the river and bridge. Also, we saw very few children in the country, and then we realised that they were encouraging people to have more children because of the mortality rate. Apart from the cuisines, it is always interesting to come away with an insight into the place. For me, it is not about hitting the shops; it is about getting to know a place.”

Brazil: “I was reliving my college days, being vicariously part of a gang of childhood friends.”
After Columbia during her Miss World reign, she was back in South America much later, when shooting for Dhoom 2. “The genre of the film we were working on made us relive our college days. I was privy to a close unit of kids (Abhishek, ‘Duggu’ Hrithik Roshan and Uday Chopra) who are childhood friends, and felt that I was vicariously part of the gang. Brazil offers that kind of spirit, the film gave that kind of energy.” Her eyes take on a faraway look as she recalls a surreal moment towards the end of the Dhoom 2 shooting schedule. They lay sprawled below the “magnificent” Christo, in the wee hours of the morning, before Hrithik Roshan was returning to his son being born. “We were in that woozy state of mind, because we had stayed awake the previous day and night and were watching the sun rise. It was a very quiet time, the early morning hour before the tourists arrived. We had had such a noisy schedule, all of us buzzing throughout, that it was the best silence we all shared. As we lay on the ground, we felt that Christ was looking at us from the skies. You hear terms like, ‘listening to the sound of silence’, but we experienced it then.”

Machu Picchu: “In my little bling feathered costume, I looked like one of the Inca queens.”
Shankar’s Robot took her once again to “the other side of the world”. She had taken a break from her career for the first time in her life. “I was facing the camera after an unexpected eight months all the way in Machu Picchu (Peru).” It was the longest journey they had made – counting the kind of flights, number of flights and locations. Upon reaching the place, a tiny township, after a train journey, they all walked from the railway station dragging their bags on the road. “As we trekked along, we suddenly passed a marketplace. My staff was exhausted, but I was thinking, ‘What an adventure!’ I love walking, because we don’t do that enough, and you actually get to feel the pulse of the place, get in contact with the people and culture, otherwise it could well be structure to car, car to airport, airport to plane, plane to car, car to hotel.”

Mexico City airport: “I was the pride of India and all that – and I didn’t have my passport. This was the worst moment for me.”
With her valet in tow, and running a fever, Aishwarya was connecting via Mexico City en route to Melbourne, Australia, representing India in a performance at the Commonwealth Games. Special Services, who had come to help them with the language barrier, disappeared with their passports. “It was bizarre. People there would smile a lot and look blank, because they didn’t speak the language.” She was taken to a private room that was empty save for two people who could be guards eating a home-cooked meal. “It was like the movies – being in a prison cell and these guys going at their meat sauce and bread. They would say something to each other and keep smiling at me. My valet has piercing eyes, so I would keep telling him to smile and keep his face easy. I suddenly felt I had to be protective and get us out of here. I had never felt that before. I wasn’t getting through on the phone to anyone and at one point I felt myself go a bit cold. I had wanted to visit Mexico, but this was not the adventure I was looking for!” After an encounter with a man who spoke perfectly-accented English and suddenly refused to speak any, to a bunch of “strong-looking women” who used the word “off-loaded”, Aishwarya nearly gave up. And then suddenly, in the crowd she spied the person who had disappeared with their passports and chased him down. “He was carrying our passports in his hand, and till date I have no idea why.”

Los Angeles: “With time, travel, age and experiences, you begin to like the easier, more social pace of LA.”
After boarding the flight from an eventful Mexico City, she was transiting through LA to catch her Melbourne connection, hoping to make it in time to perform. “I reached LA and suddenly life was beyond fabulous. It was the one time I cherished being who I am, in terms of the celebrity life. Suddenly, it was beyond comfort, think all superlatives. I always say that once in a while, if it gets too comfortable, God just does a little schickt (demonstrates a click with her fingers like playing carom). He’s watching his own little rom-com, thinking, ‘I want to have fun with you’. So I think, ‘Enjoy it, and turn it when you want to.’”

New Zealand: “The life that we lead, we are like gypsies, nomads, and I’m very quick to feel at home in any place in the world.”
She’s spoken a marathon, and yet looks like she can go on. I’m right; this would make a coffee-table book. “We don’t realise how quickly time flies and because a part of our life gets captured on celluloid forever, I feel as actors we live lifetimes within our lifetime.” She is off to join Abhishek in time for his birthday, in New Zealand where he is shooting, in a place she has never been before. Some people are meant to be children of the world, explorers in their own right. “And yet, when one travels so much, there will always be something unique to being home. It is your family that makes home what it is – it’s not the physical structure even if you say bed and all of that. I live a very homely life in the places that I go to. Besides, as Abhishek rightly puts it, one in six is an Indian: you can go to the farthest of places and we (Indians) will be there, saying, ‘Hello, you want home-cooked food?’ That’s the best part about Indians – they are there to feed you. You are at home anywhere in the world.”

Tagged Aishwarya Rai Bachchan Bollywood Indian cinema Interview Travel Verve Magazine

Sculpted Vision - Bharti Kher

Published: Verve Magazine, Nerve, August 2010

Bharti Kher is now considered ‘India’s top woman artist’. We catch up with the 3-time Verve Power Lister post the astounding sale of her sculpture at a recent Sotheby’s auction

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Her elephant sculpture, The Skin Speaks a Language Not Its Own, reportedly sold for a hefty $1.5 million, giving UK-born, India-residing Bharti Kher a permanent residence in the top echelons of artistic stardom. In a quick Q&A:

Artists stray from using traditional symbols of India, but you are popularising them (elephants, bindi etc) as elements with great depth.
It’s not particular to India as such, what I’m interested in is the ready-made and its transformation, and then the cliché and how it sits in our consciousness. When you use something so obvious there has to be subversion.

Every artist strives to have their voice heard and influence public opinion. Do you believe you’ve managed to do that?
I don’t think artists have very powerful voices, we whisper for a long time, perhaps! Maybe people will look at Indian art more, but they have been looking for a long time: this generation has had a lot of exposure already.

Does it bother you that Indians are not the ones purchasing the works; it is a foreign gallery/ foreign collectors?
Yes it would if it was true. Indians do buy my work but less than those from abroad...some major works left when they could have stayed.

Where do you believe Indian artists fall short in terms of gaining international recognition and acceptance?
Indian artists don’t fall short at all, it’s just that the world is a bit slow and needs time to catch up to them!

How does it feel to be one part of a successful couple in the same profession – being married to Subodh Gupta?
We are both working hard right now...we talk, we fight, nothing is easy and we are still sailing.

What attracts you to life-size sculpture?
It creates a relationship with the self. Scale is something I enjoy – whether I want the works to envelope you or seem fragile, so that you (the viewer) feel like a giant or an elf.

Since you work on each piece for a long duration – a few months at a time – do you ever feel that the idea stops mattering to you or changes?
I usually work on many works simultaneously, so none of them ever reach the same level of completion at the same time – therefore the energy is always different at each stage of a work. I have to keep my sanity!

Hypothetically, what do you think your career graph would look like had you remained in the UK and established yourself as an artist from there?
I can’t talk about the things that never were. Maybe I would have been a writer or a mental patient! It’s fun to think about the ‘what ifs’ and go on strange journeys with yourself.

Tagged Art and Design Bharti Kher Indian Art Interview Verve Magazine

Sardonic Wordsmith

Published: Verve Magazine, Features, July 2010

Irrepressible fiction writer Rupa Gulab is back with another tale to tell, the story of 40-something Mantra who quits her job and battles everything that can possibly go wrong at that time in her life, exploring the vicissitudes of midlife crises. Sitanshi Talati Parikh in a freewheeling chat with the author

What’s fun? Writing the book or planning the book?
Planning a book is great fun. You just scribble notes while you’re lazing in bed eating chocolates and feel like you’ve accomplished a big deal! Writing a book, however, is hard work. My characters rarely act according to my plans – they’re stubborn, annoying, and insist on doing their own thing. It’s a huge struggle making them toe the line – very often, I have this overpowering urge to get them brutally murdered. Maybe I should start writing crime novels instead!

As you grow older, do your characters age with you?
That’s not strictly true. My next book after Girl Alone was for a younger target audience (Chip of the Old Blockhead) – a thirteen-year-old coming to terms with the fact that her divorced parents are falling in love with each other again – and experiencing her first crush as well. I don’t necessarily write for my own age group – I like to believe that I write for women of all ages.

Situations are not really funny when they are happening are they? But in retrospect....
Oh, I absolutely agree – everything looks better in retrospect. I always make it a point to look back with laughter. When you continue to be bitter and resentful, you need to consume gallons of antacids – and I hate, hate, hate antacids – they taste like chalk!

Do you think it really helps an average woman to read about another and find solace?
Yes it does help – particularly if you identify with the character’s problems. Why do you think chick lit always sells? Most single women enjoy reading about the trials and tribulations of other single women. You don’t feel so alone then. It’s a great comfort read. A Girl Alone fan once told me that she re-reads my book on those date-less Friday nights.

So it’s the end of fantasy for women?
Books don’t end fantasies – real life does!

Is there a greater social comment about a woman like Mantra, who feels a loss of control over her life?
I wouldn’t say that it’s a social comment. It’s just something that happens to most of us when we hit the big four-oh. That’s when you realise that almost half your life is over and the other half is not remotely attractive or promising at all: wrinkles, failing eyesight, depression and the desperate, irrational feeling that this is your very last chance to achieve what you really, really want; whether it’s your love life, career, whatever.

Mantra is placed in a higher social bracket. But a woman doesn’t become secure without basic financial trouble does she?
Money can’t buy happiness. We all learn that – sometimes the hard way.

Do you ever find the man in your stories insecure, or is it just the woman?
In my first book, Girl Alone, only the female characters were insecure. That’s because they were in their late twenties/early thirties: single, psycho and looking for love. The male characters were, as men that age usually are, rabid commitment-phobes. In The Great Depression of the 40s, all the characters are insecure about different things – including the three male characters. Vir is worried about losing his job – his stress levels are extremely high. While Karan doesn’t dissuade his wife from meeting her ex-boyfriend, he’s not exactly comfortable with it – the wily fox needs to see them interact every now and then to get a feel of the situation. And the college-going Rohan is miserable and mopey when his cool girlfriend insists on a no strings attached relationship. In the real world, everyone is insecure!

It sounds like you pretty much put into words what you are thinking....
I write exactly as I think. And the reason why I mainly do satire is because I can see through most people and situations. I have to confess that I have the most horrible, terrible nicknames for people in my head – but you can’t blame me for it because I got this from my mum. What can I say – I have lousy genes!

What do you turn, to read?
I’m a fairly eclectic reader, but I stick to fiction. Mainly humour, with a little bit of intensity every now and then. I have way too many favourite authors to list, but I must say that P.G. Wodehouse continues to be a hot favourite. He’s a great pick-me-up when I’m down. He dries tears better than Kleenex tissues.

So you’ve knocked out the 30s, 40s and the teens. What’s next?
I have two strong plots in mind – one for young adults and the other for the chick lit brigade, but I have no idea right now which one I’ll go with eventually. I just want to flake out for a bit – the characters in The Great Depression of the 40s have left me emotionally drained. I really should have killed a few of them!

THE GREAT DEPRESSION OF THE 40s
Rupa Gulab
Penguin India

Gulab’s sardonic wit hasn’t dissipated over time, in fact it has become more reined in with it’s well-crafted barbs. While you warm to the characters, and envision their lives in a midlife crisis, it helps you understand relationships and people as they change with time. The insecurities are all the same, the circumstances and decisions to deal with those insecurities vary. Gulab’s self-referencing – with her lead character attempting to write a novel and towards the end of the story reaching the idea of The Great Depression of the 40s – serves the purpose of reminding the readers that they are like one of the characters in some way, either pining for a bygone time, or harping for something out of their reach. If Gulab were to concentrate less on structured witticism, more on the depth of her characters, especially the male ones, the book would be eminently heart-warming, but would lack the punch that makes it inherently her own style. ‘Marriage ruthlessly strips away all pretences of common interests,’ is what Gulab has her protagonist thinking, and goes on to prove how fragile and yet how solid marriages can actually be. After all, as her characters prove, it is what we make of it.

Tagged Indian fiction Interview Literature Rupa Gulab Verve Magazine

Not a Word More, Not a Word Less - Jeffrey Archer

Published: Verve Magazine, International Edge, June 2010

British novelist, ex-politician and former jailbird, Lord Jeffrey Archer is an absorbing conversationalist. He’s confident, patient, petulant and raring with sure-fire ambition. In Mumbai for the launch of his latest collection of short stories, And Thereby Hangs a Tale, Sitanshi Talati-Parikh comes away from the tête-à-tête duly charmed

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Jeffrey Archer explains the act of creation of dialogue, demonstrating how real-life conversation can’t be imitated exactly in fiction. “While talking you may say, ‘Can I have a cup of coffee, please?’ but you can’t put that in a book.” The ever-gracious Taj hospitality team appears bearing silverware and coffee, not knowing that Archer was merely demonstrating a point. “Is that my special?” he asks – having quite missed the force of his spoken word. They look confused. “Is that coffee?” They nod bewildered. “No, thank you, I have my special. I thought they told you all about it. No they didn’t? God bless them,” he mutters. A few minutes later, the somewhat-‘special’ turns up. They couldn’t garnish it with chocolate sauce, they murmur desperately. He takes a sip. “It’s not like Barista’s! They all try to make it like Barista, but they can’t. And who introduced me to Barista? ‘Raoool’ Dravid introduced me to it. I don’t like coffee. I like Barista’s. I don’t get it in England. I love it.” He gives it back, with an unhappy, “Thank you, very much.”

He is surprisingly energetic, he’s refreshingly ebullient and he holds the instinctive ability to inspire. At 70 years of age, he moves with the efficiency – and his voice carries the power of a 35-year-old. He speaks without platitudes and any hint of patronisation. And if you question his creative choices, he responds with effusive mock indignation.

Excerpts from a rollicking, sometimes serious conversation with the author:
(All exclamation marks and text repetitions are entirely based on the interviewee’s tone. Capitals denote elevated volume only.)

Why do you not have more female protagonists in your books – besides The Prodigal Daughter and False Impression?
The Prodigal Daughter is totally about the first woman president of the United States. Who wrote the first story about the first woman president of the United States? ME! Long before Hillary Clinton! You weren’t even born then! I’m married to a woman who runs the biggest, greatest hospital in Britain, Cambridge University. So, don’t you give me that protagonist stuff. In this one (points to his latest book) all the women are wicked. They’re nice in a lot of them, aren’t they? I’m not a women’s writer. I don’t write to please you, I write to please everyone!

And everyone is pleased by men?
Well, no. NO! The Prodigal Daughter is the story of a woman. False Impression, you’re quite right, is about a woman from beginning to end. You selfish thing, isn’t that enough for you? (Laughs uproariously.) God, women’s rights for India! Women to run India!

What happens if you don’t have a story to tell? Do you ever get stuck?
Never. NEVER! No writer’s block! Never. I know my next six stories. The next thing I’m writing is the biggest challenge in my life. I’m writing five books in a row, the story of which starts in 1920 and ends in 2020. They are called The Clifton Chronicles. The first book is dominated by a MAN called Harry Clifton. The second book is dominated by a woman called Emma. Yes!

Is there a sense of completion when your protagonists achieve that position of power – after all, that’s where the books end? What happens if they were to continue?
What you’ve said is going to happen in the next series. One will lead into another. They will all be separate books. I’m a believer in hard work and ambition and achievement – for men or women. (I can sense the aside.) I work for Margaret Thatcher – makes no difference to me. The achievement is in reaching the goal, not afterwards! You don’t want to think about retirement do you?

Do you believe that with great power comes great responsibility – for the storyteller and for the story itself?
No I don’t. I think that’s not realistic. I am a storyteller. I want you to enjoy the story. I want you to turn the page. I don’t want to leave you with any philosophical...well you can, but that’s not what I aim to do. I aim to entertain you.

Is that the difference between popular culture and literature?
NO! That’s insulting. (I’m just saying.) I know you are, but it’s insulting. That is to say you can’t be a great storyteller and write well. The literary failures of this world always try that line, because they are jealous. It was one of your great critics who told me, ‘Jeffrey, don’t worry with the sacred cows of India – read RK Narayan.’ I agree with her. Narayan is both – marvellous combination of great writer and great storyteller. There are very few Vikram Seths around. (He approves of Seth.)

So, your new collection of short stories....
(Answers with practised ease.) Fifteen short stories, nine of them true, the most exciting one for me is set in India, called Caste-off. It’s the story of two people I met in Mumbai three years ago (Nisha Jamvwal and Kanwar Rameshwar Singh Jamvwal). I think it will make a Bollywood film – it’s so romantic. I couldn’t believe it when I heard the story; it’s so remarkable that you can’t make it up.

Do you pull from real life or employ fiction?
It’s half and half. Human beings are giving stories all the time. Why bother to invent someone when I can just write you? It’s so easy. I look at people and I remember details very well. If I get a good story, I write one line that reminds me of it. I always keep notes. Normally everything is all up there. (Referring to his deeply lined forehead.) If you are working the whole time – and I’m always working – memory gets constantly tested. Your memory only gets lazy if you’re lazy.

What does power mean to you?
Power?! Power. (Makes it sound like ‘paar’.) It has many meanings. But sometimes, a writer has power without realising it because people will write to me and say, ‘Your book has changed my life,’ or ‘something you wrote has changed me as a person’. Which one hopes is power for good – for instance young Indians learning to believe in hard work to achieve what they want.

Your stories give people the drive to keep going, to succeed....
Nowadays, people want it tomorrow...not 20 years down the line. A girl came up to me at a restaurant and said, ‘I want to be famous.’ I asked her if she played the violin, sang a song or wrote a book...and she shook her head. She said, ‘You don’t understand me, I want to be famous.’ She didn’t want to do the work. You have to do the work. Now I’m more demanding all the time, on myself.

Does success increase the pressure to deliver?
I always had a story so I never felt pressure. The problem was making sure I worked hard enough. I’m working harder now than ever. People ask me silly questions like ‘Do you write all your books?’ But you would know straight away, wouldn’t you? You’d say, ‘Jeffrey! You didn’t write that!’ I always say to people, my readers would know – they know my tricks. Which makes it harder for me, because my fans are sitting there and saying, ‘Where’s the twist, Jeffrey? What’re you gonna do, Jeffrey? I’ve got my eye on you!’ It’s still a challenge to fool you, to get you to the last line and make you go ‘Aaeee!’ That’s the trick.

Few writers can handle short stories and sagas with equal aplomb....
The thing about short stories is that they are stories. A lot of people who write short stories are actually writing ‘looks at life’ or incidents. I tell stories. They have a beginning, middle and an end. I don’t want to write about the ‘movement in the room, made one feel luminous, as the girl walked toward me, I realised….’ Oh balls. Give me a STORY!

So you’re going strong.
Eh? FOREVER!

Love the spirit. Word.

Tagged International Fiction Interview Jeffrey Archer Literature Verve Magazine

Trendsetting Strokes

Published: Verve Magazine, Nerve, May 2010

The connection between fashion and art is an old one; international trends can be written in no less than multiple coffee-table books. Verve speaks to four top Indian fashion designers who show obvious influences of art in their designs

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On the connect “There has always been a connection between art and fashion. Chanel loved Cubism. Schiaparelli loved Surrealism. And Yves Saint Laurent paid tribute to many artists: Braque, Picasso, Mondrian. Art and fashion are both provocative and often intrigue the general public.”

In my designs “I have used art as an influence not just from the Western world but also from an Asian perspective. I have collaborated with Goan artist Theodore Mesquitta; and did an installation for Habitat Centre (Alka Pande). In fact, I know one day I will paint.”

Fashion as a work of art “Fashion is at the lowest rung of the pure art ladder. Our clothes certainly are a form of art. To elevate them to pure art though is being overly ambitious. Fashion can become art in the hands of Alexander McQueen or Hussain Chalayan who look at clothing and shows as art to begin with. But in most cases, fashion is not art.”
   
SATYA PAUL

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On the connect “Anything in life has two possibilities – either you can use it to raise or lower the bar. What matters is how one takes it. Fashion is itself an art form, a medium to be used to create amazing art. Broadly seen, it is a confluence of colour, texture and form (by way of weaving, embroidery, printing, and cutting/pattern making). The importance of the two is akin to asking ‘...the importance of oxygen to life?’”

In my designs “Art is anything done with heart! In that vein we have made numerous collections over the years where art of different artists, and movements of art is the basis. Recently, Chola period brozes and Pop art have been referenced in our collections. In addition, we have explored and developed a new visual language.

GAURAV GUPTA

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On the connect “Sure there is: fashion is simply commercial art.”

In my designs “I’ve always been inspired by art. Think architecture by Gaudi, movements like Surrealism, Dadaism, the art nouveau and art deco realisations. While it is nothing obvious and direct, there is a subconscious connect. Recently, I collaborated with artist Akshay Singh Rathore, taking off from his light-box installations. We’ve independently been working towards similar things – a more landscape-like feeling. Tartan checks can be rigid; with this concept, they became more fluid, draping well.”

Fashion as a work of art “Some of them are! Designs are sculpted around a body. Sculptures have a mood; and in fabric draping, construction and moulding, it is like working with clay. One of my saris for instance was displayed at the Portugal Biennale (an international art exhibition) late last year.”

POONAM BHAGAT

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On the connect “Art and fashion are both intertwined. Both are highly creative fields. One uses a canvas with brush strokes or mixed media while the other uses fabrics and threads on cloth. The difference is, the latter is turned into a structured garment while the former is flat with sometimes a 3D effect. Artists have even started incorporating materials available to fashion designers in their art.”

In my designs “My spring summer 2010 collection was inspired by the works of world renowned Spanish artist Joan Miró, who was known for his very vibrant, childlike paintings and use of primary colours. I borrowed elements from his art and gave them my own TAIKA twist using vibrant appliqués and embroidery on ivory linens and cotton-silks. The recently concluded WIFW AW 10 showcased my collection inspired by abstract expressionism, a modern American art movement which took wing post World War II in the late ’40s and flourished till the early 1960s, putting New York on the global art map for the very first time.”

Designer in an art show “For me art speaks; so does fashion. The first ever group art show I participated in was organised by Polka Art Gallery at The Visual Arts Centre, New Delhi in August 2007. It was a showing of extremely eminent artists. I was the only fashion designer and the only one to create tapestries on fabric with embroideries.”

Designs as works of art “My designs are just fashion statements, to be worn and enjoyed. Not to be treasured!”

Tagged Art and Design Designers Fashion Gaurav Gupta Interview Poonam Bhagat Satya Paul Style Verve Magazine Wendell Rodricks

Abhay Deol: An Uncommon Man

Published: Verve Magazine, March 2010
Photographs: Harsh Man Rai and Tina Dehal

You may choose to like or dislike his choices, but you can’t ignore him. A string (think ten) of unusual movies later, Abhay Deol, who turns 34 this month, has found sure footing in Hindi cinema with unexpected acceptance from the audience and grudging respect from the industry. He inspires deeply opposing reactions, but that doesn’t bother him in the least. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh discovers the man behind the actor

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I had a premonition about that Saturday, but I didn’t anticipate that meeting the hottest Deol in town would involve a star-crossed sequence of errors. Lost in Aram Nagar Colony, in the innards of distant Versova, trying to navigate around bungalows that had no order or system, unable to get the girl answering the phone to give me usable directions, I reached harried – unforgivably – three minutes late, only to find him busy in a conference with director Navdeep Singh for his first home production, Basra.

Apparently, while trying to get his own production house rolling, he’d forgotten about our interview. Looking rather bemused, he started talking rapidly…for nine minutes, and then requested a five-minute time-out while he finished some critical Basra-related work. Meanwhile, I tapped my nails on the wooden table, back firmly facing the curious eyes in the production house, checking out posters of Dharmendra’s films that populated the walls and watched the minutes become the better part of an hour confirming that I would miss my friend’s wedding in the bargain. After being at the receiving end of a couple of sardonic comments about time and responding with rather genuine profuse apologies (yes, I believe him), he emerged to give me a full, uninterrupted 40 minutes of quality time. Am I surprised that at the end of it all it was a great interview?

Of course, the dark clouds that loomed hadn’t begun to pour yet. I got back home only to discover to my intense horror that only the first nine minutes had saved on my voice recorder – all else had, by some inexplicable black magic, vanished. The curious dead cat had got my tongue and made me roast in hell. Munching vigorously on humble pie, I returned to the now-familiar Aram Nagar Colony a few tense days later on another professional rendezvous with the refreshingly easy-going actor-turned-producer. This time around, he didn’t keep me waiting and my recorder behaved itself. We ate some bitter chocolate to thaw the ice in the air.

Curiosity killed the proverbial cat and made Abhay Deol famous. It took a while, but now everyone wants a piece of this man who doesn’t fail to arouse interest. He’s not a misfit in the sense that he’s an abnormality; au contraire, when you meet him, he’s pleasantly normal. It’s his choices that have made for fevered coffee-table speculation, and the fact that you always wonder what new oddity this unconventional Deol will roll out. He’s been called that so many times, it’s almost a cliché. Maybe that’s why the lanky actor, who always prefers to keep a surprise up his rather hairy arm, has chosen to do a movie that seems so incredibly mainstream. The upcoming Aisha, loosely based on Jane Austen’s Emma, co-starring Sonam Kapoor and produced by Anil Kapoor, is worth watching, if only to understand why someone like Deol would star in it. A perfectly normal romance, there is no angst, no odd-ball character, no debauchery; nothing really that makes it something he would ideally gravitate towards.

It makes you suspicious, wondering if all along, these strange choices – a superhuman character in Honeymoon Travels Pvt. Ltd (2007), a lovable thief in Oye Lucky, Lucky Oye (2008), a contemporary Devdas in Dev.D (2009), a failed writer and middle-class government engineer caught in a web of deceit in noir film Manorama Six Feet Under (2007) – were all an act, until he found a director and producer willing to cast him into the ‘safe’ and common mould. Deol looks unabashed, as if you would be ridiculous to question his choices, firmly crediting script over banner, any day. His other release this year, Dev Benegal’s Road, Movie (an Indo-American production which has already got rave reviews on the international circuit) about the experiences of a guy driving his truck through a desert, makes this statement a fact. Deol happens to be a part of Road, Movie merely because Benegal was willing to wait to accommodate the former’s busy schedule – it is a twist in the actor’s fateful tale. Now, where Deol goes, the banners and author-backed roles follow.

Dharmendra’s nephew has had to live with being told, rather matter-of-factly, that his movies don’t stand a chance. But patience, grim determination and a slow pace of success later, when people started to (albeit grudgingly) accept him as a bankable star and the industry began looking up to him as a leader in experimentation, you find that Deol can’t help but be a little smug. Success breeds confidence, and he admits that being on the other side of the bargaining table, seeing the way the chips have fallen has given him the right to be self-assured – to talk with the knowledge that people are itching to hear him (he was a speaker at the prestigious TEDIndia – Technology, Entertainment, Design – international conference last year); and to walk with a sense of renewed purpose. And a part of that purpose is being a catalyst for change. “You need to take the few early steps – paving the road for others to drive upon. And more importantly, I have to do things that appeal to me as an artiste/ actor, that’s where the honesty will come from. The audience will follow – after all, people always gravitate towards those who are sure of themselves, and those who do things with integrity.”

While he may claim an avid fan following, there are those who have not seen his films, and therefore have not really come to recognise him as an actor of repute. Road, Movie, for instance, is a film that he admits can go either way with the audience. “It is a step in an unexplored direction and I don’t know how people will react – the foreign audiences have really appreciated it, but will it be a film that appeals universally? I don’t know. With a good release, though, it stands a chance.” At the same time, he is not comfortable with the idea that his films – and therefore he – may appeal to a niche, intellectual audience. “I have never looked upon an audience – particularly the Indian audience – as being dumb or looking for escapism. I consider my audience to be smarter than I am. If I didn’t, I would be taking my audience for granted. Whether realistic or not, it keeps me on my toes, and raises the bar for me personally.”

Talking about being realistic, you can’t see this Deol raging on screen, warding off goons and doing a merry jig around trees (though Honeymoon… proved that the boy has magic in his tangoing feet). Subtlety, not melodrama is his artistic choice. Where at one time, cousin Sunny Deol’s angry histrionics may have held the day, today, the multiplex audience is more forgiving towards actors who believe in the power of nuanced performances. In real life Abhay Deol is a casual and prolific talker, but his on-screen characters tend to emote with expressions rather than voice: minor inflections are expressively reflected on camera. “I prefer to use facial expressions when I am acting. There are actors who will want more dialogues simply so that they can have longer screen time. I tend to cut my own dialogues – if something can be said in one line, why do you need five? Our face and expressions are magnified on the big screen, so less is always more.”

‘Beta engineer banega’ is what most Indian parents would think and that’s exactly what Deol’s parents hoped for. Growing up in the same house as legendary star Dharmendra and his sons Sunny and Bobby Deol, the younger Deol came into his own on stage in Jamnabai Narsee School, as early as age five, but remained ambivalent about his future as an actor. “My family wanted me to do whatever I wanted and give it my 100 per cent, though they would have liked it if I became a doctor or a scientist. Growing up in the ’80s, it was like that. The kids in school would make fun of me, because I came from a family of actors. When people around me proclaimed, ‘He’ll be a good actor,’ I would find it deeply offensive, thinking, ‘How do you know that; how do you know I may not have other interests?’ I hid the fact that I wanted to act. I used to be good at drawing…I thought I would take up graphic design.” It seems that for longer than should be necessary, Deol has been fighting being moulded according to people’s expectations, even if those expectations were a part of his own dream.

What the kid that refused to conform actually did was study theatre in Los Angeles, USA, and contrary to expectations, it wasn’t an easy road into movies. “Initially, I wanted to work with everybody, to do that commercial film so that I would get the money to do a non-commercial film. I hate those labels – ‘commercial’, ‘non-commercial’. But it conveys the message. Nobody wanted to take a chance on me because I was a flop actor. And, before Socha Na Tha (2005, Deol’s debut film directed by Imtiaz Ali), there was no interest in me either.” Despite dogged determination and a good show of bravado, Deol’s chosen path came with its own share of insecurities. “You want to navigate the system, you need support. You don’t want to end up as someone on the periphery. I decided then that whether hit or miss, I would let my work and its consistency speak for itself. You can only be insecure if you have something to hide or if you doubt yourself. I’m pretty truthful and honest, so my insecurities kept going out of the door. Those that remained were about my career as a whole, because it is a bigger entity.”

Forbidden Films (it’s hard to miss the defiant air in the choice of name) is a production house that he started after the painful realisation that many of his films failed because of bad marketing. “There has been a struggle working with first-time producers and smaller film-makers – it’s difficult because even while making the film, money runs out. And when it comes to releasing the film, there’s no money left for marketing. Then, the producer lacks the clout to distribute it well. That works against a good product and it kept happening to me. For instance, Oye Lucky, Lucky Oye and Dev.D, backed by UTV, fared better than Shemaroo which didn’t manage to successfully market Manorama Six Feet Under. These are lessons I have learnt.” He believes that none of the Indian film producers – whatever they may claim – really know how to market a film internationally. And therein lies a huge untapped audience. “Starting my own production house was merely to give films, directors and stories that I believe in a chance to survive. I don’t plan to star in all the films I produce – but I am acting in the first one, Basra. Production is a lot of work, and being new to it, it’s a learning process.” And this coming after shooting three films back-to-back (Oye Lucky…, Dev.D, Road, Movie), which got this avid traveller (who prefers luxurious European jaunts to backpacking trips) so burnt out that he had to take a few therapeutic months off to do a welding and metal-work course in New York.

He has chosen wisely to not be bothered by what others think or how they define him, particularly by the recent incident reported about him being at loggerheads with the Aisha producers on being dissatisfied with his role. “Almost everything that is reported is a?rumour or not true, though I’m not saying everything is false. I’m private about my life…and there are times when I say what comes to my mind, in a particularly casual fashion, which gives my words the leeway to be twisted.” With a sheepish grin he remarks, “And sarcasm doesn’t work really well with the media.” Like others before him, Deol has fallen prey to people’s opinions based on the quirky characters he has played, his oddball choices and industry buzz. “I do feel that I am misunderstood as a person. There are things I have heard about myself...it all comes back to you. People think that the stars don’t know, but they know about these rumours. You are in the public eye, working with different people, a lot of times you could be the one being difficult and it’s there for all to see, and other times you could be justified in what you say, but people will still feel that you are being difficult, because of all that’s perceived of you and because you are in such a position of power.”

Or the times when there are determined probes into this highly eligible bachelor’s love life. With no real face to attach to the girl(s) on his arm, Deol inconveniently finds himself linked up to anybody he works with or has been seen talking to. Professional hazard it may be, but he’s often in the incongruous state of being too honest and too private all at once. “Once while in New York, I made the mistake of saying, ‘I’m dating a few girls, it’s not like I don’t have a social life,’ and that got blown totally out of context! In New York it is natural to date casually; while in India I naturally tend to get more protective, I don’t want to have to answer to anybody…questions like: ‘How did you meet, how’s it going, are you serious, are you getting married?’ I mean, who are you to ask me that? Why should I answer? And tomorrow if the two of us are not together, they will write about what might have gone wrong. Sometimes your personal life takes a beating when your professional life starts to go down; then they judge you, and judge your partner for leaving you.”

And so the ‘ladies’ man’ tag has found itself surely attached to his broad shoulders. His voice escalates in volume just enough to suggest that this is a touchy topic (no pun intended). “If you call me a ladies’ man, then, on one level yes, there’s nothing wrong with flirting. I like the opposite sex, I always go out of my way to charm someone and talk to someone; but at the same time, I’m not one to sleep around! I’m not looking to settle down right now, but I’m also not someone who will sleep with anything in a skirt! For me, more than a relationship, companionship is very important. In our day and age, it is much harder to be in a committed relationship for very long.” Experience talks, having battled work pressures simultaneously with relationships, leading him to conclude that it’s one or the other at this stage in his life. “Right now, I’ve barely got my foot in the door – I’m not even settled in right now. So I’ve had two successes behind me, big deal! Two more flops and I will be in the same position I was in two years ago. It’s not like I have cemented myself in this industry – that won’t happen for a very long time – but at least for the next couple of years I need to put in the energy and get close to having, if not my toe, then perhaps, half my body in the door. Then I’ll be happy and take a break. I understand that it is important for me to have a life outside of work....”

He may be playing the field, but he isn’t riding the high horse of fame to charm a girl. Meeting him, you understand he doesn’t need to. He’s not anything like the dark heroes he plays; he’s not the Dev folly. “I am a positive person, happy in my personal life, and I’m not very competitive. I tend to gravitate towards those girls that don’t give me any extra attention just because I’m famous. For example, there was one who wasn’t very polite to me because she assumed that I would have star-like airs, but over the course of a few meetings, she opened up to me, when she realised that I’m just a normal guy. And immediately, I was attracted to her because she valued the right things. Of course, there is a lot of attention because you are famous....”

One would imagine that living with a handful of movie-star Deols would have got him used to fame. “It’s true, I’ve grown up with that and I’m wise to it. I think that’s why I did my own thing when I started out. The fame bit is important to me simply because it helps me get the money to make the movies I want to make. Beyond that, it doesn’t define who I am. And I won’t ever let that happen. It’s not about getting the launch or a platform or a silver spoon up your butt or whatever; it’s really not being taken in by fame and glamour, because once you get taken in, it comes and it goes, it is not permanent. The only thing permanent that you have is the work you have left behind.”

Maybe we are quick to judge people who are not of the common grain. Someone who has chosen – more accurately written – his own path, who one would imagine to be opinionated and as stubborn as a mule, is actually quite reasonable about his opinions. “One of my philosophies is that I know that I don’t know. I’m entitled to my opinions, but am not rigid about them to the extent that you can’t convince me otherwise. You have to accept that you can make mistakes; sometimes you can become so subjective that the objectivity is gone. I need someone to turn around and give me a slap across my face! I respect that, as long as it is justified.”

And being open to other people’s opinions is having respect for individuality. This gets him steaming. “We are constantly told, don’t do this, do that instead. It is crazy. I totally believe if you have faith in your artist, if he/she has already delivered, give them a chance. The one thing we lack in our industry is individuality. Which is why all the films, actors, actresses look the same! Because they are all aiming for the same thing – who can dance better, who can fight better. That is why we have more flops than hits. It still baffles me how people see formula and depend so much on it. There is a formula, for sure there is. But the ones who break tradition, get famous.”

He finally leans back – barely having paused for a breath – and you feel like you have travelled the long, rough road to the beginning of success with him. Only you haven’t. “I’m happy, but just because you are happy doesn’t mean you stop. You can be greedy and want more.” There is a deep throaty chuckle, Kevin Spacey-like dimples flashing, reminding you that despite having reason to, he doesn’t smile enough. “I want to go the distance in making a movie that has universal appeal. I want to communicate to the world, not just to India and Indians. It’s not just about boy meets girl, it’s not just about comedy; there’s also global warming, genocide, political assassinations, social workers, adoption....”

It’s also about microcosms that have macrocosmic appeal. “While I’m a Mumbai kid, I understand village mentality because my family is essentially from the Pind, in Punjab. I’ve been brought up with a certain set of traditional values and culture, and I want to have my own take on Indian culture. There’s a huge gap…and film is the medium you can bridge it with!” Lucky Singh (Oye Lucky…) and Dev (Dev.D) were two such curious characters rooted in North India, with a nation-wide appeal. “With Dev.D I knew I could take a classic novel, which even my grandfather knows, contemporise it, and have it appeal to a 16-year-old today. It’s the same thing that Sarat Chandra Chatterjee was trying to say in 1917, that kids today are trying to tell their parents. Why are they rebelling? Why are they obsessing? While Chatterjee didn’t like his own work, and I cannot identify with Devdas, it does have universal appeal.”

With the same angst of a person struggling to find his rightful place in the world and triumphing in the end, he is more like Satyaveer Randhawa in Manorama… than any of the characters he’s played. Yet, he gravitates towards all his roles, albeit unconsciously, because they share a common strain – a debauched spirit that masks a principled person. The principles can shift from determination to fixation with a thought, the debauchery can be rakishness or trivialisation of a socially accepted moral code – but they entwine into the personality of a person who simply goes with what he believes is right.

This is what makes his characters likeable despite their flaws, and this is what makes Deol interesting. Lucky Singh’s sincere eyes belie his actions, the deeply dimpled smile is innocently impish – and you feel that there is a possibility of redemption – in fact it should be no other way. Taller than you’d imagine at six-feet-and-one-inch, and skinnier than you’d expect, clad in pale blue denim and a casual tee, the Darcy-like personality leaves you with the same impression. “Is he as hot in real life?” asks a friend. He may not be your average candyfloss poster boy, but you would be foolish to ignore him. Self-assured, flippant and with an unintentional air of cavalier disarray, the actor is a ‘project’ – someone a girl would automatically get attracted towards, to ‘fix’. And that is just dangerous territory, because as defined by his sometimes wayward, often laid-back attitude, Deol is essentially a free spirit. Dressed (defiantly?) casual at a glittering fashion soirée, he is equally at ease being his own companion, as he is exchanging pleasantries with the best looking girl there. He can be perfectly charming, should he choose to do so and that would be within the constraints of what he defines to be a laid-back friendship or relationship. He would revolt against shackles of any kind, expectations, demands and a desire to be moulded into someone who conforms. And yet, he believes, “commitment-phobic” is not the appropriate term for him. “It’s just that I am not at that place right now,” he explains earnestly. This Deol isn’t misunderstood; he’s just waiting to be understood. At the right time and place in his life.

 

Tagged Abhay Deol Aisha Bollywood Dev D Indian cinema Interview Manorama Six Feet Under Oye Lucky Lucky Oye Road Movie Verve Magazine movies

Baz Luhrmann: Amplifying Emotion

Published: Verve Magazine, International Edge, March 2010
Photographs: Aparna Jayakumar

Award-winning Australian director of films Moulin Rouge!, Romeo + Juliet and Australia, Baz Luhrmann arrived in India expecting a “creative adventure”. In the midst of dipping his fingers into paint, warding off curious eyes, responding to over-enthusiastic banter and driving a bike through Rajasthan taking photos, Sitanshi Talati-Parikh gets an insight into his artistic mantra

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An elderly Indian gentleman (probably inebriated) asks Baz Luhrmann at a recent art soirée, about the size of his pants. Luhrmann replies politely and retreats to probably punch the wall or take a deep breath. He has, in the correct manner of famous people especially of international origin, been generously accosted. His voice is scratchy from replying to the same – or inane – questions, his face is showing more lines than it should from smiling politely to profusely talking strangers, and he is undeniably tired. It is not surprising then, that he chooses a late start, armed with coffee, the morning of our meeting. “Not all of it is joy,” the veteran director admits, “Some of it is overwhelming. But something keeps telling me to ‘surrender’ and be in the moment.” An agreeable disposition and genial self-deprecating humour on his surprisingly slight frame make him a very real person who likes making larger-than-life movies that tend to hit the spot.

It is a creative visionary’s brush that picks up on the nuances of life, emotions and true-to-life characters with a flourish to create the ‘big’ film – full of flavour, drama, vibrant colours and melody – whether it is the garish realism of Romeo + Juliet (1996), the Parisian kitsch of Moulin Rouge! (2001), or the ochre-hued drama of Australia (2008). “It is amplification. You take realistic human emotions, realities or problems but you use an expressionistic canvas.” And this is what led to what is popularly known as Luhrmann’s Red Curtain Trilogy (Strictly Ballroom (1992), Romeo + Juliet, Moulin Rouge!) – the concept of an “overtly theatrical musical work”.

Australia announced a departure from Sydney-born Luhrmann’s previous musical format and moved towards a more sweeping epic form. “There is no way that Australia is of the then-current naturalistic vernacular. It is heightened, much like Gone With The Wind is heightened. Instead of music, I tried using landscape to amplify emotion. It is operatic in that sense. Naturalism is like looking through a keyhole and you are apparently looking at reality; but this form is where words fail us – sometimes we just can’t express in words what it is like to truly be exalted or truly be in love or truly lose your child over a cliff.” Instantly, in the mind’s eye appears the stunning visual of the herd of cattle racing towards the brink of a cliff pounding a dust storm. “What may seem to us to be a small event, to a person in the village, it is operatic at that point of time. ‘You-can’t-marry-that-boy-moment’ internally feels like Tosca. As an artist you want to use devices to help the audience empathise. And that doesn’t mean just reproducing the way it apparently is. I try not to show the way things are, rather the way things would have felt for the character.”

The once-aspiring actor has often given credit to Hindi cinema for influencing his cinema. “India has always been an extraordinary serum for my soul. Fifteen years ago – it is quite serendipitous – I made a production of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1993) set in colonial India. I was really fascinated by the connection between the Elizabethan spiritual world and the Hindu spiritual world. The production is very distinctly making those visual translations in the time of the Raj – the lovers are all European Raj characters and the Hindu spiritual world plays with them.” It went on to be a hugely successful show, winning the Critic’s Prize at the Edinburgh Festival. He recalls the defining moment being his visit to India at the time, with his award-winning production-designer wife, Catherine Martin, where in Rajasthan, they saw their very first Bollywood movie. Unable to remember the title or the cast – except that it was about two brothers going to Oxford University, and fighting over the same girl – Luhrmann found it remarkable that there was, “intense tragedy, next to very broad comedy and then a burst of song. Two thousand people were spellbound, including us who couldn’t speak the language, for three hours. What we got out of that was the value of exaltation. In that sense Bollywood films are Shakespearean. Different people can have different experiences at different levels. That sensibility became the Red Curtain Trilogy and has stayed with me ever since.”

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Characters and sensitivity to their emotions is a trait that can be traced back to his youth working at a gas station observing people. At 47, he admits, “I’m addicted to people. And, it’s shocking, but I’m just getting started. I haven’t begun to meet all the people and haven’t begun to make all the movies. Maybe one day I’ll make a really good film, won’t that be good?!” There’s a light chuckle. “People are derided for it…being enthusiastic is uncool, so I would think, be as uncool as you possibly can. There is nothing sadder than getting to a certain age and sleepwalking through life, marking time until the curtain falls. I don’t want to surround myself with that energy.”

His own vigour (despite the weariness) is paramount, and you would expect him to have enthralled us with more work than he has. He has a bunch of projects lined up, including that of a cinematic production of The Great Gatsby. “There is no such thing for me as lying on a beach and saying, ‘The cocktail’s good!’ Creativity has always instinctively been for me the pursuit of a rich and extraordinary life, out of which creativity grows, as opposed to the pursuit of a successful career. I did that, and all of the Red Curtain came out of the instinctive urge. It has to be personal to begin with. For instance, I love Paris and Bohemia, hence Moulin Rouge!” The first Harry Potter film was offered to him: recalling that, he mutters, ‘Idiot!’ and smacks his forehead in mock disapproval at missing out. “That might have been a brilliant career choice once, but the work I do comes out of my life’s journey. Recently, I lost sight of that. So between films I’m doing things just like this.”

And this is exactly where we are. At the newly-opened Le Sutra art concept hotel, Bandra, Mumbai, that has a mural painted by Luhrmann and Australian artist Vincent Fantauzzo. Appalled by the recent negativity in Australia that he’s afraid will mar the formative years of Indian students, Luhrmann decided to partake of this “creative adventure” to use the artistic medium to speak out in a way that politicians cannot. “It is a genuine leading experiential artwork, what we used to call in the old days, ‘a happening’ and a platform to express the positivity to counter the negativity. As old as India is, it is young again. It is youthful, it’s finding new creativity – Australia connects with India on that level. Without getting too clever or complicated, it was adventurous for us, but also symbolically and creatively a positive gesture. So far it has been intense, and it hasn’t let us down.”

Whether it is playing himself on an American TV show, directing a ballet, painting a wall or making a film, Luhrmann has never been judgemental about ‘high’ and ‘low’ art. “It is just expression…the adventure in pursuing it and the personal gain in your internal journey. What does it do for you?” While painting the mural – quipping that he merely held the can of paint – he finds that he has, “received the invisible lesson – one that you don’t know where to look for.” Accustomed to a zillion people following his directives, he suddenly found himself floundering with the language barrier, helping young children paint the embroidery on the mural. “There aren’t 15 people here to say ‘Yes Boss!’ I was reminded what directing is – to know what you want and engage people and help them release their fear, be the very best they can be.”

Mark Anthony Luhrmann, “a tiny kid with an Afro”, was very young when he ran away from his father, whom he describes as a “loving disciplinarian”. The long, “crazy” hair, left Luhrmann with the derisive nickname ‘Baz’, which he decided to defiantly hold on to, particularly after it was used affectionately by his father, a little before he died. His brand, Bazmark, has a crest with a motto, ‘A life lived in fear is a life half lived’. It defines the way Luhrmann thinks – against a formula that’s any but his own and one that is constantly being redefined by life’s experiences. “As you become successful in any way, little switches have turned where you increasingly become disconnected with yourself and you think you’re doing stuff, but you are not. It’s harder to not be your brand. You get tired…of stepping outside your comfort zone. Being here is awesome, but it’s not like I’m 25 and haven’t gone to India before and it’s not like stuff isn’t thrown at us. But the effort, already, has given me hundred-fold back. I could leave today and know that I have been woken up in a way that I wouldn’t have had I not stepped outside my comfort zone. You tend to regret not finding out.”

Tagged Australia Baz Luhrmann Hollywood India Interview Verve Magazine movies

Imran Khan: The Quiet Romantic

Published: Verve Magazine, Verve Men, February 2010
Photograph by: Colston Julian

Recently, Imran Khan got engaged to Avantika Malik after a seven-year relationship. The poster boy of romantic cinema, in his upcoming film I Hate Luv Storys, produced by Karan Johar, plays a true-to-life character that is completely unromantic. On a set of the film, staying in reel and real avatar, the young actor talks candidly to Sitanshi Talati-Parikh about relationships past and present, the insecurities and trials, and the importance of chivalry…peppered with intermittent reflections on what he thinks (or doesn’t think) about romance demonstrated by funny pie charts, graphs and comic strips that he has saved on his laptop

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I’m honestly the least romantic person you can find, really. By conventional definitions, and by my fiancée’s definition, that is. But if she’s lasted out this long, clearly she sees something in me!

It’s not that I don’t like romance...I just don’t think it’s feasible. When you are wooing someone, you put on your game face – bathe regularly, cut your nails, take her to fancy places, buy her flowers...all of the drama. It’s a mating dance...but rather short-lived. As time goes on, how you feel about each other as people, how you treat each other as people, will determine whether your relationship will last.

And yet, I’m big on the proper proposals. I proposed to Avantika a month after we met, asking her if she would be my girlfriend – lighting her room with candles – the works. Somewhere in me, there is a classical streak – I was brought up with values of chivalry. You have to do it the right way – go down on one knee…it just doesn’t work otherwise.

You do some things because you know that they are important to someone. I’ve been working on my last four birthdays, because I couldn’t care less. To Avantika, a birthday is really important – the excitement starts to build a month-and-a-half in advance. So, I put in an effort to make a big deal about her birthday. The diamond engagement ring, the surprise proposal – while I know it’s something created as a marketing concept by the diamond company, De Beers – I knew it would mean something to Avantika, it would make her happy, so I did the whole deal. I planned the surprise proposal on her birthday (last July) at her farmhouse with a bunch of friends, complete with a red herring to throw her off course. And then, as I pulled out the ring, while going down on one knee…the expression on her face was priceless.

Avantika would want me to be more expressive. When you are in a relationship with someone for an extended period of time, you tend to take on characteristics of the other person. She’s taken on my characteristics, I know – and I have done the same. She’s calmed down a lot. All her emotions are just below the surface, and sometimes on the surface. At a moment’s notice she will erupt with love or anger or violence. My anger is more frigid – the angrier I am, the calmer I get and the softer my voice gets. It’s very brutal and it really shrivels people up. When I’m livid, it takes two sentences to bring the other person to the brink of tears. But it takes something monumental to get me angry.

I have never been jealous – particularly in this relationship with Avantika. Even right in the beginning, it never occurred to me that at any point, if she is somewhere without me, something would happen with another guy. If you’ve been messed with a few times in life, you would imagine it should, but it didn’t. I’ve cheated on one girl in my life and broke up with her the next day – couldn’t deal with the guilt. More often than not, I’ve got the raw end of the deal; it took me a very long time to get over it. There was a grand break-up, followed by extremely short-term relationships – measurable in hours – and in the aftermath of that, I met Avantika.

I had not the slightest clue when I entered the relationship that it would be for keeps. I was 19. What do you think at the time? ‘Pretty girl, I am interested in her and she in me; let’s just see how it goes.’ It started off without any specific intentions and just coasted along. It speaks for itself that we are still in it.

I think the wisdom is false that in this industry it is an advantage to be thought of as single. If you are in a committed relationship and honest about it, people respect you that much more. Emotionally, they like you more, it makes them think, ‘This is a good guy, an honest guy.’ There are enough people out there who think all Bollywood relationships are a sham. And some of them are. Avantika believes that if she were in this ‘circus’ with anyone else, it wouldn’t have lasted.

Avantika isn’t insecure, but there’s something else…. She doesn’t worry that I might get attracted to an actress or model. What I think bothers her is the fact that people talk to her because she’s my fiancée, and if she were not, they wouldn’t even look at her; or there are others who just look through her. There is a tendency in these circles to talk to people without having things in common, because you are a part of the same fraternity – and anyone not in that immediate circle gets left out.

We’ve been through two major trials recently – the first when we started shooting Jaane Tu…Ya Jaane Na. It involved people who had nothing to do with her life. Generally, your friends are common, but suddenly I’m spending days and nights with people whom she has never seen. That was a very difficult time – she had to come to terms with the fact that I suddenly had less time to spend with her. And the next was when Jaane Tu…had just released – suddenly I became famous and the whole world wanted a piece of me.

I’ve lived my life believing that you decide who you want to be and you can be that person. You look back, learn and move on. I don’t have any regrets about my current or past relationships. If I had done something differently with Avantika, perhaps we wouldn’t be here today. Things wouldn’t be the same.

If I fall prey to the ugliness that is a part of the underbelly of this industry, it won’t be because I am a part of this industry – it would be for the reason that any man in any job would…which is that he is done with the relationship. It certainly won’t be because I get tempted by some girl who thinks, ‘I want to sleep with an actor.’

The rumours that tabloids pick on for sensationalism can so easily sully a clean relationship. It happened to me once – and because of all the drama, all the sudden awkwardness, it has soured some friendships.

I don’t want to be in a position where I give Avantika any cause for discomfort. If I had to choose to cut a person out of my life to give Avantika that security, I would do it – I did it. The very fact that I have done this, and the fact that I have acknowledged her as my girlfriend from the beginning, gives her that kind of security. I don’t know whether she would expect this of me in the future, or as a result of my having done this, her faith in me would be stronger and I would not need to do something like that again.

I live my life by a very strict code of conduct – I believe that I must behave in a certain way, be a certain way. Everything that I do must be righteous. Commitment means a lot to me. So, hypothetically, if I was to be tired of my relationship, I would not cheat, I would say, ‘End this, and then go find another girl.’

You read about chivalry. Bushido is the samurai code of conduct – the way of the warrior. They have certain principles, where ‘to say is to do’ – your word is your bond. I was probably eight or ten when I read about these things. I loved the King Arthur legends. It was cool – armour, swords, rescuing damsels in distress, leading chaste lives...and I decided I wanted to be like these guys. It always got them into trouble with the girls – and I still get suckered by damsels in distress. It’s an inbuilt thing...every guy falls for it!

I believe if you do the right things, you don’t need grand gestures of romance. Men use these smokescreens to cover up their relationship inadequacies. I can neglect my girlfriend all day and turn up with a bunch of roses – that doesn’t make it okay. Instead, if I call her twice during the day, we stay connected. The candyfloss idea of romance is just that – paint and gloss. Paint is all very well, but it is not going to keep the rain out – it is the unglamorous bricks and mortar that will. The good guys don’t need showbiz.

Tagged Avantika Malik Bollywood Bushido I Hate Luv Storys Imran Khan Indian cinema Interview Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na Verve Magazine marriage romance

Vidya Balan: Sense and Sensuality

Published: Verve Magazine, Cover Story, February 2010
Photographs by: Atul Kasbekar

She is undeniably sexy. While it is not a raw in-your-face sexuality, it is a deep passionate sensuality that emanates from her captivating smile and smouldering eyes. Vidya Balan is as much of this time as anyone else, but you get the feeling she may have been better suited to the era of the Romantics or the cinema of the ’70s. Worthy of being a muse, the man who gets her, will totally get her. Sitanshi Talati-Parikh woos the audaciously role-playing star of Parineeta and the just-released Ishqiya into talking about romance, men, career lows and what turns her on

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I’ve seen you somewhere,” she says looking directly at me. We trace the connection back to our common alma mater, St. Xavier’s College, Mumbai. (She admits wanting to study there simply because Shabana Azmi is an alumnus.) I can’t deny I am surprised by Vidya Balan’s refreshing directness and razor-sharp memory retrieving faces seen more than a decade ago. Her smile reaches up to her eyes, rare in someone from the industry of make-believe. You don’t want to tell her that her eyes are in fact (as she suspects) looking weary, because you are afraid the captivating smile will disappear. You can’t exactly blame this diminutive powerhouse of talent for the fatigue factor – she’s run the marathon for Nanhi Kali, besides working round-the-clock promoting her latest film Ishqiya (2010), where she essays an author-backed role of a femme fatale, Krishna, opposite two thieves (Naseeruddin Shah and Arshad Warsi).

“I always felt that I could be a temptress and a seductress, but people didn’t really want to see me like that.” Balan launches into Krishna’s character with gusto. “Here’s a woman who’s unapologetic about her sexuality. She will not take things lying down…no pun intended,” she laughs a gusty, full-throated laugh. “She’s leading two men on, getting drunk and violent. She’s everything that, on a superficial level, I am not.” She actually thanked director Abhishek Chaubey for considering her to play a role for which she would not have been the natural choice. “People don’t want to take a risk casting against type. I have done some challenging roles, but they have been pretty much in one zone. As a character I relate to the fact that she lives life on her terms. But beyond that, the way she deals with situations is very different. I was doing everything that I had never done. This was exciting!”

The spirited eyes, the full smile and the expressive face all suggest a latent sensuality. “What you feel is what you exude. I enjoy being a woman! After all, I came in with Parineeta (2005). I revel in everything that is feminine, beautiful and sensual. When working on a weight loss regime, I told my trainer, ‘I want to lose the excess not the essentials.’ I love a woman’s curves! I find that ‘flat thing’ very asexual. Ethnic clothing from any part of the world is a lot more feminine. I like clothes that make me feel like a woman.”

Standing in a burgundy georgette-and-net gown-kurta while the camera takes position, her fingers unconsciously pinch the sides, and lost in thought, she gracefully twirls back and forth, looking like a wistful young girl waiting to be taken to the prom. When the camera is on, she slides her hand up to her slim waist, leans forward, a suggestive hint of cleavage visible, hair billowing, transforming into a Victorian temptress who can turn a good man into a sinner. “A man is a man is a man in every situation. A woman, however, transforms according to the role that is demanded of her at that point in time. You will find Krishna (in Ishqiya) playing the tanpura like Meera in one scene and in the next having a passionate affair with a man without any emotional involvement. She is in complete control of her life and truly the progressive woman of today.” She confesses that like Krishna, her feelings are fervent. “I am a very passionate person…I have come to accept that now. There is no midway for me. I love ardently. I don’t hate – one goes through anger; prayer gives me the strength not to hate anyone – but yes, that person ceases to matter for me.”

From the gentle lovemaking in Parineeta to the unabashed sex in Ishqiya, the 31-year-old actress hasn’t held back from giving roles her best. “Initially I felt very conscious, especially in Parineeta, my first film. But I had faith in Dada (director, Pradeep Sarkar) that the scenes would be done beautifully, that they wouldn’t look sleazy. I knew I would be well taken care of. The first thing that crosses your mind when you think of your lover with someone else is the physical aspect: it was important to the story in Parineeta. It is not a comfortable situation, but if it is justified and if I have faith in the people I work with, I am not going to be a prude.”

And being a perfectionist means going that extra mile. When playing a character afflicted with multiple sclerosis, in Mani Ratnam’s Guru (2007), she underwent rigorous training to understand the mental state of the character. Meeting patients, watching films on the subject and even roaming around her building at night on a wheelchair…all of it took a psychological toll on her. To the extent that one night, when trying to get out of bed to get a glass of water, she found herself unable to do so – having lost motor control in her limbs. “It scared the life out of me! At that point Mani sir suggested that I should stop – having prepared enough for the role. But despite that, when you do that kind of work – which challenges you, requires you to push the envelope, push yourself beyond your limits – it is deeply fulfilling.”

She looks exuberant when she talks about cinema and acting. About yearning to have been born in the time of a Jai Jai Shiv Shankar, wearing saris that marked individual style and holding forte with actresses like Shabana Azmi, Mumtaz, Sharmila Tagore, Rekha, Jaya Bachchan and Hema Malini. She knew she wanted to be an actor since she was 11 years old. “If I hadn’t become a movie star I would have perished! Being an actor defines me. I think I am a schizophrenic and want to be another person every day.”

Without having a filmi crutch, she has fumbled and only recently, through perseverance, faith and hard work, found sure footing. While opportunities came her way, many a door was rudely banged in her face. She landed her first TV show when just a few months into college. Balan got her pictures clicked at a local photo studio, with her sister in charge of hair, make-up and a winning bio data. At the time, barely over 15 years of age, she made the cut from 900 applicants. “I owe my sister my career,” she chuckles.

After eight months of filming, the show was shelved because the channel went bust. The producers sent the actors to Ekta Kapoor, who was making her first daily soap. Eyes filled with mirth, she remembers how taken-aback Kapoor was with Balan’s placid response, when offered the role of Radhika for the popular show Hum Paanch. “The cocky thing that I was, I turned back to Ekta and said, ‘I always take everything with a pinch of salt.’” Kapoor has to this date never let her forget it.

After a year on the show, when it began affecting her attendance at college, her parents insisted that she quit working. “I come from a traditional South Indian family, where education and academics take precedence over everything else. I was terribly upset…I grudged them that for a while, but today, I am so grateful to them.” Balan continued to do ad films on the side, going on to do 90-odd commercials. “It was perfect! I could enjoy college life, while pursuing my passion and making money. That’s how it really started....”

While in the South shooting for an ad film, the actress – who can speak five Indian languages – was approached by a model coordinator to star in a Malayalam film. The cockiness resurfaced with a question, ‘Who’s in it?’ When informed that it was her favourite star Mohanlal, she tested and was signed on immediately. While doing her Masters (in Sociology) from Mumbai University, Balan began shooting for the film. Halfway through, the director and Mohanlal had a fall out, and the film was shelved. But by then, there was a positive buzz about a Malayali actress from Mumbai, and Balan had already gone on to sign six films, while in talks for 12.

What she didn’t realise was that in the midst of the problems between the director and Mohanlal, she had been labelled ‘jinxed’, and was rapidly being replaced in all the films she had just signed. They didn’t even bother to inform her – her mother would get the Malayalam papers and discover that the film her daughter was supposed to be a part of had already started without her. Balan was unceremoniously thrown out of a Tamil film as well, after being told that she couldn’t act or dance and didn’t look good. “I didn’t know what it was that I was doing wrong. It was extremely painful. They made me feel really worthless. It had dented my confidence to the extent that I had stopped looking into the mirror for a while. When you are badly hit, you begin to believe what people are saying. In those moments of self-doubt though, I think somewhere my faith in myself and in God got strengthened more than ever. I was relentless.”

At a point of particularly low self-esteem, while working on an ad film, her path crossed that of Pradeep Sarkar’s, who wasn’t very impressed with what he saw. When he was casting for a music video, Euphoria, he was reluctant to call Balan in for the screen test. She relates, “It was at this stage that I had begun to pray…and begun to pull myself out of this negativity.” She got selected, and after shooting for the video all night, was rewarded with Sarkar’s words, ‘Ay ladki, tere saath main film banaonga. (Hey girl, I will make a film with you.)’ While not sure how to react – the bitterness of past experiences still fresh in her mind – she found Sarkar to be as good as his word. “Without sounding dramatic, if I am sitting here today, it is because of that man’s faith in me.”

She went on to do more videos and ad films with him, even assisting him. “That is why people began to talk rubbish about him and me. It was literally like a mentor-student, a guru-shishya relationship…where I wasn’t living in his gurukul, but I was spending a lot of time there. He would show me movies and performances and we would discuss them in great depth. He was constantly teaching me, honing me.” And then, Parineeta happened. “All the things that didn’t work, didn’t work because I was meant to do a Parineeta. That fire wouldn’t have been there….” Balan has been known to share great onscreen chemistry with her co-stars. “I wasn’t nervous even though it was my first film and I was facing Saif Ali Khan and Sanjay Dutt. It could have been George Clooney or a tree for that matter. I would have made love to the tree if I had to, because I was driven by the passion to prove a point. I had to prove it to myself…for every moment that I had considered giving up on my dreams. Something gave me the strength to go on…I wasn’t going to get intimidated by anything or anyone.”

The passion was there for all to see, and that drove the media to a feeding frenzy. “I thought it would never happen to me, but I was shocked to find myself linked with everyone, starting with Pradeep Sarkar. I didn’t know why I was being linked, and people would say that ‘there’s no smoke without a fire’.” Could it have been a publicity stunt to promote the films? “You can dance around naked if you have to, but if your film is not good, it won’t work. I am very proud of the fact that Paa (2009) and Ishqiya are the kind of films that don’t need this kind of publicity – they haven’t had to resort to such things. Story is king and enough to garner interest in it.”

Two movies that lacked the Vidya Balan energy and drive were the ones to not do justice to the audience’s expectations – Heyy Babyy (2007) and Kismat Konnection (2008). “Those were the only films that I did without scripts. I wanted to work with Aziz Mirza (director, Kismat…). Whatever the criticism might be, I am proud of all my work and happy with each experience. The film didn’t turn out the way it was meant to. As human beings we are not consistent, in fact, that kind of consistency almost takes away from creativity! Having said that, I lacked passion in these films…I’m very transparent.” Why would someone so driven not give it her best shot? “I thought I could go through those films without much effort and I was mistaken. I admire those actors who do the regular roles so beautifully. After Kismat… my eyes opened to the fact that what we look upon as regular may actually be a lot more challenging. There are very few times that I have fallen prey to being indifferent towards my work…and both those times it showed. Today, even if I do less work, I want to do work that I believe in.” It is evident that this belief has worked for her. Balan’s mother, who is normally not the “weepy sort”, found her eyes welling up after seeing her daughter’s portrayal of a strong single mom of a progeria-afflicted 13-year-old in Paa, and her father – deeply impressed with her performance – spontaneously gifted her a Mercedes, something she had been eyeing for a while, with a note ‘From Paa for Paa’.

Vidya Balan writes a diary every day, however late it may be. Music pulses through her veins – eclectic, more instrumental than vocal – think Sufi, Asian Underground, Nirvana, Buddha Bar, and that of RD Burman and Gulzar from the ’70s and ’80s. She can talk on the phone endlessly with someone she’s interested in. Even after seven days of no sleep. But you can’t talk to her when she has just woken up. And an undercurrent of silence really gets her buzzing. “There is nothing more romantic than standing in a room full of people and there is silent communication taking place between the two of you. You can be in two different corners of the room, but it feels like you are right next to each other. I’ve experienced it…wanting those 100 people to disappear and somewhere in your head they have actually disappeared.”

While she wants to get there someday, she is not ready for marriage and kids yet. “You are constantly role-playing when you act. I don’t know who I am going to fall in love with. There are no limitations, about loving someone from within the industry or outside it. I know I can still be genuine, but it takes a lot. But, if I can help it, I wouldn’t want to be with an actor – two people constantly fighting for the mirror is just bad news!” She laughs, obliterating the opportunity to probe further.

There is a faraway expression in her eyes as she rattles off qualities in a man that turn her on. “Long and unruly hair can be so sexy! A man’s voice – it has to have a certain base to it. Not a baritone, but a certain lingering quality; and of course interesting conversations. Being self-assured, I find that extremely attractive. A little bit of arrogance for a while can be fun. Definitely someone who likes me the way I am. I don’t have a vision of a man I’d get attracted to…it’s never about the looks for me, it’s always about personality. I have never been able to tell my type – having fallen for radically different, even unusual men.” Anybody I know? I counter. And no, I’m not buying that George Clooney line. She lets out a peal of mischievous laughter. “We shall talk about that later.”

Men she may choose to postpone; success she can’t. Paa has already begun garnering wins for her, and Ishqiya promises to take her to a new high. “Success is something that is personal. Its definition changes every day, if not every moment. When you accomplish what you want to do, that’s success. You know that if people are accepting you, then you need to continue doing what you are doing. It gives you the courage to be who you are, more than ever.”

Tagged Bollywood Ekta Kapoor Guru Hum Paanch Indian cinema Interview Ishqiya Paa Parineeta Pradeep Sarkar Verve Magazine Vidya Balan
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