The Story In My Head
I carry around several images in my mind from the countless hours of watching televised fiction and movies from my neck of the woods. Some of these images are from South Asian movies of the 60s starring performers who are considered endearing by those who have watched and loved their work. In fact, such is the celebrity of these performers and the enduring appeal of their work that even the younger audience are aware of them, even though they have no experience of having viewed or engaged with their performances. This after all is a generation that steadfastly refuses to watch older movies except on occasion, that too in an affected manner, in order to provide fodder for the endless cutesy text messages and images that is their primarily language of communication.
One such image seared in my mind is of the late Meena Kumari standing in a blooming garden opposite Ashok Kumar, offering him a coy smile as he utters a few inaudible words before playfully resting his arms on her shoulders and leaning his face towards hers. Her arms then loop around his, as the engage in a playful exchange that the audience aren't privy to because just then, the camera starts to step back from this intimate scene, wanting to afford a certain privacy to the lovebirds or so it would appear. After all these years, this image remains beguiling as it suggests a closeness between them that we expect to see in lovers that have managed to successfully juggle the practical business of living together with the impracticality of passion. What is truly remarkable about this image, however, is the fact that both the veteran performers featured in it were, during the filming of that movie, at the height of their careers and fame, in spite of being in the threshold of middle adulthood. Moreover, both "look their ages", and give the appearance of two people who have have inhabited the planet for a while, and in relative comfort, as seen from Meena's comfortably wide body, and Ashok Kumar's craggy face and burgeoning belly. And yet, the romance of that scene between them feels as much alive and throbbing as I would imagine the romance between two performers of equal skill but younger by at least a decade. Still, that romance also inhabits its own character. It feels like romance would between two people who had fallen hopelessly in love, gotten married, and a decade later, had stayed in love. Their passion had stayed put, but to it had been added a veneer of friendship, the sort that makes you roll your eyes in playful disgust as your partner breaks wind beside you in bed, or that makes you push back the tip of your nose and flare your nostrils in front of his face, requesting him to spot any stray, visible boogers or nosehair, as you both prep yourself for an elegant night together. These gestures would ordinarily be considered anti-romantic. But they would also suggest a friendly intimacy, such as the one we share with dear friends and beloved siblings. With time and a dollop of good fortune, I am told, the romance between passionate lovers can also acquire such elements of deep friendship. That scene between Meena Kumari and Ashok Kumar seemed to suggest this. I could imagine them both taking in, not only their sweet romantic words, but also their breadths, and saying to each other, "so you finally had pickle with your paratha (South Asian pancake) even after I told you not to?". You can imagine how talented and well matched these performers must be to conjure up such delightful, convincing images in my mind with a mere few minutes of acting. That is what I have discovered to be true of some of my favourite performers: their acting not just brings alive the scene as it is written. It also brings alive the right mixture of emotions, and unleashes unseen images into my brain. It is as if, the performers, through one succinct scene, conveyed that one moment as well as countless moments like these that might have gone on between them outside of the presence of the cameras. So, a single moment of such intimacy between Ashok Kumar and Meena Kumari in that 2 hour movie managed to convince me that there had been many more such moments between them, and that they had, truly, been happily married for over a decade. With economy of performance, they managed to bring alive two characters and their life stories before my unschooled gaze.
And what do I offer them in return? I admire their performances, which I watch innumerable times, write admiring blogposts extolling their talents, and share my love for them to anyone with the slightest inclination towards such fiction. But as time goes by, I also start to turn down my nose at them looking instead for fresher talent (as if people were like sprigs of lettuce), especially the female performers. In fact, I admit that my younger self was one of the audience that could not stand "older" women performers in leading roles even though I was more accepting of the male leading performers. For example, I could imagine Dharmendra strutting his stuff in 80s movies when he was nearly 50 years old, but I could not accept Hema Malini, every bit a luminous performer, after she started to not look like a nubile, young thing anymore. Her beauty, while still immense, had, to my cold gaze, changed in some indescribable way that rendered her unfit for leading roles, even opposite her husband who was nearly a decade and a half her senior. In this regard, I am not so different from the legions of cinegoers that have continued to keep Salman Khan or his fellow Khans relevant, even though each looks every bit his age, especially when cast opposite fresh-faced, barely-out-of-their teens women.
But now, I am starting to resent this outlook because you see, I am starting to get older myself, and as a woman, I am starting to find the whole idea of how an "older" woman should look and behave quite nauseating. Equally annoying is the prevailing wisdom on how old a woman can be in order to be cast as a leading lady of a movie or television series in my part of the world. So, women who I have grown to love through their work are slowly being told to take on peripheral roles in large movies or TV series, or to work in little seen art house films. A mere ten years or so of honing their craft, and performers like Samiya Mumtaz have been relegated to taking on non-leading parts, whereas those in the audience that love them as leading ladies (especially in romantic roles) have no option but to keep watching their older work. Could anything be more unfair or depressing? For a lover of visual storytelling, I think not.
You know the images I told you about that are swirling in my head? Well, apart from that one image of Meena and Ashok resides an image of Juhi Chawla as she looks today, with ShahRukh Khan, as he looks today (sans all the make-up, botox and prosthetics, of course). They too are in a garden taking a brisk morning walk. SRK is all business, walking a few steps ahead of her. For a while, Juhi plays the good follower and imitates SRK's pace and tries to swing her arms as well to keep the joints exercised. But a few minutes later, she thinks of a memory from the past, when her limbs were supple naturally and needed no additional exercise. She thinks of how she loved jumping on his back, catching him unawares, and wonders if she can try to do that one more time before her limbs lose their remaining elasticity. "How's your back", she asks him. "Fine", he says. "Did the doctor say anything about what you're not supposed to do?. "Nah". With that, she turns her face towards the camera, breaks into that impish smile, and we know she will try to wrap herself around his torso, much like she did in the past when both their limbs were more supple and bodies more firm. The experience of love, after all, never changes even when one starts to age and one's body starts its inevitable decline!
Before you ask me about this movie, let me inform you that this scene is a figment of my imagination that has been fed a steady diet of some of their most romantic movies together. In those movies, I never felt that I was leaving the characters behind once the movie ended and they were, invariably, married to each other. I knew that the characters would go on to live an eventful life. Now I wish to see glimpses of that life as the characters start to enter their twilight years. Unfortunately, I am told that the audience might love Juhi in real life, and in her most iconic roles, but no one will pay good money to watch her romance SRK on screen, or for that matter, to see SRK as he looks now. He needs the botox, prosthetics, hair-weaving etc. to earn his pay check. He, unfortunately, has no choice; neither does Juhi. And this, I am told, is all my doing. When I was younger, I participated in a view that shut older female performers out of leading parts. Today's younger audience are merely keeping step with that hallowed tradition.
So much for being a progressive viewer! My younger self has left my older self with no option but to retreat into my self-created images. Juhi, SRK, here I come!
Edited by JNam - 7 years ago
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