WAHEEDA REHMAN

SUCCESS AND FAME IS TEMPORARY. THERE TODAY, GONE

TOMORROW.

“I’ve Never Feared The Future”

Courage is something I learnt from my father (district

collector Mohammed Abdur Rehman). As a child, when I was
learning Bharat Natyam, my relatives asked him, “Kya
Musalman ladki ko nachaaoge?” His answer was, “Art is
never bad. It’s the human being, who errs. How you conduct
yourself is important.”

I lost my father when I was 13. At 17, I came from

Visakhapatnam to Mumbai with my mother (Mumtaz Begum)
to do Guru Duttji’s CID (1956), directed by Raj Khosla. I laid
down my conditions before signing the agreement. That I’d
not change my name (the makers wanted a commercially
viable name). That I’d only wear costumes, which I approved
of. I told my mother that if they didn’t agree, we’d go back.
Raj Khoslaji was taken aback that a young girl was so
unbending. I told him I was ready to work for 24 hours if need
be. But certain things would be in accordance to me. It’s not
slavery. We respect you; you should respect us.

“Guru Duttji Was Extremely Sensitive”

I’m proud to be part of Guru Duttji’s films. Even 50 years

later, they’re talked about. They’re classics. I’ve made no
contribution towards them… I just happened to be part of his
great films – Pyaasa, Kagaz Ke Phool (1959), Chaudhvin Ka
Chand (1960) and Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962). Guru Duttji
spoke little. He’d just observe. But he was extremely
sensitive. If I had difficulty in saying the lines, he’d ask writer
Abrar Alvi to change it. He believed no matter how beautiful
the lines, the actor should be able to say it.

In Pyaasa, I had to let out a scream on reading the news of

Vijay’s death. I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Guru Duttji
joked saying, “Girls scream for anything. Strangely, you’re
finding it hard.” Then he said, “Okay, just crush the
newspaper and we’ll slide down the camera.” The subtlety
worked. He encouraged me to read.

Just after the silver jubilee of Pyaasa, my mother suddenly

passed away of a heart attack. It was the darkest phase of
my life. For one year, I dreamt that she was alive and we’d
buried her in haste. I was plagued by these thoughts. I was
doing Solva Saal (1958), with Dev (Anand) then. I told him I
wanted to go back. I didn’t want to work anymore. He said, “I
know it’s shocking. But you can’t walk off like that. Complete
the film and think in the meantime.”

Once, Baby Naaz and I were rehearsing a scene for Kagaz Ke

Phool (1959). She had to accuse me of taking her parents
away from her. I had to say, “Maine kuchh nahin kiya. Main
khud akeli hoon.” But before I could complete the dialogue, I
burst into tears. I related the lines to the loss of my mother.
Guru Duttji announced pack-up saying, “Go out with your
sisters, watch a film. There’s no need to come at 9 am
tomorrow. Come only after you feel rested.” That was
thoughtful of him. Eventually, I got hold of myself. The
traumatic experience helped me evolve as an actress. Also,
the survival instinct kicked in. Another high point remains the
song Waqt ne kiya kya haseen situm. The photography (V.K.
Murthy) with the play of light and shade stood out. There’s no
lip movement. That intensified the emotions.

“I Carried Meena Kumari’s Paan Basket”

I did many films with Sunil Dutt including Mujhe Jeene Do

(1963), Meri Bhabhi (1969) and Reshma Aur Shera (1971). He
was a friendly and progressive man. I grew close to Nargisji
while working with Sunil. Once all of us went to Moscow for a
film festival. Sunil took along Meenaji (Kumari) for treatment
as she was suffering from a liver ailment. Meenaji enjoyed
having paan. Her niece, who accompanied her, carried
around her huge basket of paan. Sometimes, I’d carry it too.
Later, all of us travelled to London. Nargisji and I’d rush to
shop at Selfridges at 8 am. Nargisji was down-to-earth. There
was no fuss about her. Just a lipstick and an eye pencil and
she’d be ready. Meenaji, on the other hand, was always well-
groomed and poised. She had excellent skin.

“Rosie is in every woman”

The credit for Guide (1965) goes to Goldie (director Vijay

Anand). I was advised not to do Guide. But I believed in the
character. There can be Rosie in every woman, in every
country, in any era. Sometime back, when Asha (Parekh) and
I’d visited Kutch – a guide there told me that Rosie is our first
feminist and Aaj phir jeene ki tamannah… the first feminist
song. Rosie doesn’t leave her husband (Kishore Sahu) crying.
She slaps him before walking out. To hell with the husband
and the world. Goldie presented the characters with dignity.
Rosie and Raju (Dev Anand) live-in but there was no
cheapness in that. Tere mere sapne… was shot in three takes
by Fali Mistry. Two shots before sunrise and one at sunset.
We’d reach the location at 4 am for rehearsals. There was no
time for retakes. Many actresses wanted to play Rosie. In
fact, Padmini and Leela Naidu wrote to me separately saying,
‘If you don’t want to do Guide, please let us know.’ Initially,
Chetan Anand was to direct Guide. He wasn’t keen to take
me. Even Tad Danielewski didn’t want me for the English
version. He thought my English wasn’t good. Also, I’d refused
to do the kissing scene in the English version. But Dev
insisted that he wanted me. He felt comfortable with me.
“Dilip saab played safe always”

Dilip Kumar’s a great, great actor. He was a cooperative co-

star. I enjoyed doing Dil Diya Dard Liya (1966), Ram Aur
Shyam (1967) and Aadmi (1968) with him. But I guess he
wasn’t courageous enough. He played safe all the time. He’d
only work with top heroines, known music directors… Even
subject wise, he played safe. When I was doing Satyajit Ray’s
Abhijan (1962), he said, “Waheeda, do me a favour. Please
put in a word on my behalf to Dilip Kumar. I want to work with
him.” I conveyed that to Dilip saab. But sadly, he didn’t seem
interested. What a combination Ray and he’d have made!

“My husband was a handsome man”

I met my would-be husband (Shashi Reiki aka actor Kamaljit),
an extremely handsome man, during Shagoon (1964). He
liked me then. But he had placed his hopes on the film, which
flopped. His film, Son Of India (1962) with Mehboob Khan
saab hadn’t worked either. Heartbroken, he left India. He set
up a boutique in Canada. Years later, when he was in India,
Yash Joharji, his friend, told him, ‘You used to like Waheeda.
Why don’t you propose to her? I guess she’s ready to marry.’
He proposed to me and we got married.

In 1997, my husband suffered a stroke. Simultaneously, my

mother-in-law was hospitalised. Everything was going wrong
in our lives. It was a tough period. After my husband’s demise
in 2000, I shifted from Bangalore to Mumbai. I began getting
offers for films (Om Jai Jagadish, Rang De Basanti, Delhi 6). It
was God sent.

“I never thought I was beautiful”

My hair had started greying rather early. Every 10 days, I had

to touch it up. I found it tiring. During the time when my
husband was unwell, it escaped my mind to dye my hair.
When I came to Mumbai everyone was shocked to see me.
Helen, Sadhna, Nanda… all said, “Khuda yeh kya kiya
tumne!” But I just let it be. When you accept reality, you’re
relaxed. Once I’d attended a function, when Sunil said in jest,
“Waheedaji’s unfair. Being younger than us, she’s stopped
dyeing her hair. Now our secret is out!” I believe beauty lies
in the eyes of the beholder. Honestly, I never believed I was
beautiful. I just photographed well. I thank the cameramen
for that. Also, I believed in keeping it real. (Smiles) Amitabh
Bachchan once mentioned that he’d heard stories about me
carrying my own make-up box and even sitting under a tree
and applying it myself in the absence of an assistant. At the
peak of my career, I went to Crawford Market to shop with my
sisters. I believed without make-up no one would recognise
me. But someone did and we fled from there.

“I feel closer to God amidst nature”

I’ve always been interested in photography. I’d carry a

Rolleiflex camera when we shot outdoors. I’ve shot sunsets,
landscapes and my co-stars including Nanda, Raj Kapoor and
even Satyajit Ray. Dilip saab would joke, “Jab dekho ladkon ki
tarah camera lekar ghoomti rehti ho!” Recently, my son
Sohail urged me to go on a safari to Kenya with professional
photographers. I enjoy shooting wild life. I feel close to God
amidst nature. There’s no pretension, no hypocrisy. You’re
just yourself. You don’t have to impress anyone.
“I’m not stuck in the past”

I don’t watch my films as I get critical about my

performances. Success and fame… all is temporary. There
today, gone tomorrow. Everyone goes through upheavals.
I’ve been through a lot of emotional and financial ups and
downs. But I like to enlarge the positive things. I avoid
negative people. You can aim for the sky. But when in
trouble, look at the millions below you. I believe I’ve no
sorrows in life. I don’t mind being born as Waheeda Rehman
again. But I’d definitely do it better.