Naseeruddin Shah has long been one of the most celebrated stage and screen actors of his generation, a man whose work is synonymous with a grounded approach to his craft. He studied at both the National School of Drama and at the Film and Television Institute of India, before making his screen debut with Shyam Benegal’s Nishant in 1975. He went on to become a major name in the “parallel-film” movement of the 1970s and 1980s — notably in Sparsh , Aakrosh , Albert Pinto ko Gussa Kyon Aata Hai , Jaane bhi do Yaaro and Paar — while also occasionally doing commercial films and working prolifically in theatre. Shah’s memoir And Then One Day is a sharp, no-holds-barred account of his early career and relationships. Excerpts:
This memoir only covers your life up to age 32? Is a follow-up planned?
I doubt there will be a sequel. This was the most relevant part of my life story — the formative years, including memories of my childhood, teachers and other interesting things — and I don’t see any point in simply enumerating all the films I did post-1982; so much that I have said and done in the past 30 years is already on the public record, so it would feel redundant. Also, I will be judged much more harshly if I do another book! (Laughs) I have to say though, I enjoyed writing this so much that I’m feeling a little lost now that it’s finished and out there.
One of the most striking things about the book — which sets it apart from most other public-figure memoirs or authoriaed biographies in India — is the straight-talking. Did you at any point worry about ruffling feathers or affecting your relationships?
No. Because the relationships I have talked about in detail, I am done with. I was concerned — when the book was complete and I read it — about what my brothers would feel. Both of them had a good relationship with our father, they admired him, and I felt none of those things. And I decided to write honestly about the old man, without crucifying him — I felt it may be of help to some other kid who is having problems getting through to his father. Luckily for me, both my brothers loved it and were very touched. I suppose my desire for my father’s approval does come across somewhere in the writing.
You mention being unsure who the “real me” is — the gregarious kid who enjoyed performing or the child who was always cowed down when his father was around. Was acting a way of trying to discover yourself?
Yes, that’s what it was — a tremendous release. I was the centre of attraction all the time at my chacha’s house as a child — I wasn’t scared the way I was at home around my father. Later in life, I discovered that I never felt so confident as I felt when on stage. But there is no point worrying about who the real me is. Even now, two different filmmakers will probably tell you varying things about the sort of person I am. I have learnt to live with both sides of my personality. In any case, I have never felt stage-fright and never understood why actors would feel it. You’re doing what you love, this is a job you would pay people to let you do! The nervousness comes from being judged, which comes from not being properly prepared. I have met many actors who didn’t put in the amount of preparation required – I was one such at first, but luckily I got away with it.
Do you think people who are too extroverted tend not to become very good actors?
I think so. They spend themselves in real life and don’t have much left over for the stage. They do make good entertainers sometimes. People like Satish Shah, Boman Irani, Johnny Lever — extremely skilful actors, who can change their voice and be funny, but vulnerability is not part of their makeup, because that quality requires introversion; you need to be a little unsure of yourself in real life.
Your tirades against Bollywood are well known, yet you have appeared in many bottom-of-the-barrel films yourself. Was money the only motivation, or was there also a desire to see if you could fit into the commercial-film world?
When I started getting work and my first commercial offer was a film called Sunaina , I thought to myself, hey I never dreamt I would do something like this, so what is wrong with dreaming of doing a Zanjeer some day? I loved the idea — and resented the actors who got those parts — but over time I found that I was just not equipped for that kind of thing.
Also, I never really got that one commercial movie that swept the entire country because of me, so I was never considered marketable. It has been a double-edged sword: I never got promoted to that category where my presence got bums on seats. But on the other hand, not having to do that, not being subjected to those pressures, I found another niche which is equally enjoyable and brought me as much comfort as I need. I am recognised in most places I go — though sometimes I am mistaken for someone else. (Laughs) I have been mistaken for both Farooque Shaikh and Nana Patekar, and that is a huge range right there!
What angers you the most about the film industry today?
Its emphasis on money. There is a lot of pretence about art and entertainment, but it’s really all about money. And they are admitting it now, by admitting that the first weekend is all that matters. Things have not changed much from 30 years ago — only the quality of the photography and editing, and the publicity, has changed.
Your son Vivaan is in the new Farah Khan film (Happy New Year) with Shah Rukh Khan. What happens if he goes down that commercial path, enjoys it and wants to continue a career along those lines? What tips or caution would you give him?
I would be overjoyed if he does well and gets more work and a boost of self-worth. And I wouldn’t make the mistake of saying anything at this stage; they are at the age where they don’t listen to anything their parents say anyway. However, my silent prayer for him is that I hope he can do something more with his life than just being a star in Bollywood. Being a star assures you a good life, but I hope he doesn’t stop at that. I have tried to guide him by steering him towards good movies, literature and art and sculpture, he gets terribly bored with all this stuff right now, but it does register somewhere. I hope that pays off and, as far as acting in commercial movies, I don’t think there is anyone better qualified than Shah Rukh Khan to advise him!
How satisfied are you with your theatre work? Any regrets?
I haven’t done as much research as I would have liked to; I didn’t make enough of an effort to discover Indian folk forms such as the bhavai and the nautanki , which are dying out. I don’t know if there is time left to do it. My association with the Urdu storytelling form dastangoi was a reaction to not having worked in indigenous forms. But on the whole, I am content with the amount of work I have done. It is a large body of work; I have groomed younger actors and done all the plays on my wish-list. I also found out along the way that the true purpose of theatre is not to show oneself off. I wouldn’t play King Lear today just for the sake of it.
Reading your book, one gets the clear sense that you enjoy writing, playing with language and so on. Is there anything else you have written just for yourself?
Yes. I have done some writing about acting methodology and the technique of learning it. Like a syllabus. It is very dry in its current form and wouldn’t be of interest to anyone except perhaps a young actor who is desperate to learn. I am trying to think of a way to make it accessible to the common reader, because I would like it to be generally known that acting is a craft that involves a lot of hard work. It’s not some God-given talent as everyone imagines it to be. The same way carpentry or pottery are learnt, or dancing is learnt, acting can be learnt, it isn’t something mystical. So I would like to do this book, not just as a syllabus with exercises, but also as a deconstructing of how I stumbled upon these things. Anyway, I would like to write something for publication again. Maybe I’ll write some pornography, I think I’ll be good at that. Classy pornography! (Laughs)
