“T ell me what dialogue you want me to deliver? How about the dosai pizza line?” asks Santhi Mani or Kaaka Muttaipaati as she is popularly called, to an agent on the phone. She is about to clinch a new film deal. The character artiste says that since the movie, there has been no looking back. “I do not do crowd shots as an extra any more,” she says. “I was told not to because people would recognise me.”
Semmalar Annam, another 23-year-old character artiste looks on with respect and love at paati . She says she has learnt a lot from her. “When I first came to Chennai to act in the movies, I faced many hardships. I needed the company of people like her to feel a sense of belonging.”
Two actors, from two different generations, come together to share their stories in the glitzy world of Tamil cinema. Santhi, who started her career as a ‘dupe artiste’ and extra, sees a younger version of herself in Semmalar, who left Coimbatore, her home town, in her early 20s to make it big in Chennai. Bitter experiences and well-meaning advice helped her brave the initial days of struggle. However, Semmalar made a mark for herself through her role in Ammani .
When the two meet, there is never a dull moment. Their age difference melts as they draw kolams together and enact a love-struck couple, while posing for our photo-shoot.
Cinema can be an intimidating field, says Semmalar. “My mother was reduced to tears when she saw the way we lived — in a cramped house, without even a stove. Those days were nightmarish. We would wait for hours for our phones to ring. Finally, when I got the chance to play a newsreader, I was so excited. My salary was just Rs. 200, but I didn’t care; it was about finding an opportunity.”
Manimeghalai, Santhi’s daughter, has cooked a lunch of hot rice and chicken curry for us. As we polish it off, we watch snippets of Kaaka Muttai on TV, where paati is preparing dosai pizza for the kids. Paati chides Semmalar and her husband for not eating well. “I know the importance of a good meal. There were days when I used to scrounge for money for a meal,” she says.
But, I would never knock on other people’s doors, Santhi emphasises. “Even during the 1960s, I was happy with the Rs. 5 I was paid a day, and the packet of pulisaadham they gave us. I would have half the rice and take the rest home for dinner. I would also make money by acting in Government-sponsored plays for raising awareness about family planning. I’ve acted in around 40 of them.”
“Why don’t you narrate your love story, paati ?” asks Semmalar, smiling mischievously. She tells us about how she met the man of her life, the head of the theatre troupe she worked with. “I was smitten the moment I heard him deliver a punch dialogue at a rehearsal,” says Santhi.
Santhi started off as a stunt trainer. And, that helps her keep the bullies at bay. “I’ll beat them left and right. Once, a man shouted out ‘podi’ at me, and I slapped him.”
Amidst the busy schedule, when she gets some free time, paati makes it a point to meet her friends and fellow cine-artistes. A stroll across two streets takes us to the house of 69-year-old Kovai Sarada, who acts in serials and who also started as an extra.
Sarada has acted with Vadivelu and played a mother, mother-in-law and aunt, among others. Now, she is acting in Thalayanai Pookkal . Before she entered cinema, Sarada worked in a factory that made cups for ice creams. Her salary was Rs. 5 a day. “And now, I earn Rs. 5,000 a day for a film and Rs. 3,000 for a serial. I withdraw a pension of Rs. 5,000 a month. Cinema gives me dignity. If I don’t get a call today, some one else might call tomorrow. Once you step into this world, you cannot step out. It is like glue.”
After this, we walk to AVM Productions for another photo shoot, because of its well-lit ambience. Music composer Tosh, a friend of Semmalar’s husband, poses with paati . Santhi and Semmalar try a shot at singing. Paati belts out a song from a play she composed and set tune to, years ago.
Tosh, who is working on Odu Raja Odu asks: “ Paati can you sing that line once more?” She belts out the song, on life, its baggage of happiness and sorrows. “I have been searching for a voice like hers. This song sounds like it might fit a segment in our movie. Paati, will you sing for my film?”
Santhi then croons old film songs, a funeral number and a folk song. Tosh hums and asks her to sing after him. And, she sings it just the way he does! “Credit goes to my experience on stage!” she smiles.
The session does not look like it will end any time soon. We leave the composer and his new-found singer to themselves and their music.
