While he managed to get admission into National School of Drama (NSD), Irrfan took a while to shed his shy, introverted personality. His NSD friends remember him as someone who did not mingle much with others. There was a quieter but focused side to him. It is also possible that since he was from a small town, he was perhaps a bit uncomfortable in the presence of others who came from big cities.
The NSD men’s hostel was located on Vakil Lane. ‘Hostel mein bilkul bekaar sa kamra tha uska , chhota sa , kone mein ,” his friend Tigmanshu Dhulia says. Tishu, as his friends and now Hindi film industry colleagues call him, was two years junior to Irrfan (class of 1989). Most first-year NSD students apparently had to share rooms, with a couple of them staying in each room. But Irrfan had managed to get one of the two single rooms.
Actor Vipin Sharma, also an NSD graduate (class of 1983), has the same reaction when he remembers Irrfan’s room. “It was in the corner, and we had to pass by his room to go to the bathroom. There was a window. I have that image of Irrfan, sitting inside the room or by the window, smoking beedi .” Vipin believes that Irrfan deliberately chose that room. “From the beginning he seemed aloof, but maybe he needed his space,” he says. “In retrospect, I now think that is the reason why he chose that room. Perhaps he wanted to stay in his own world.”
Irrfan’s class had a total of 18 students, most with scholarships, and all coming from different parts of India. Two close friends Irrfan would go on to make were both from big cities — Mita Vashisht from Chandigarh and Sutapa Sikdar from Delhi.
The students would spend long, intense hours with each other — holding adda s at the teashop at Mandi House, eating parathas at 2 a.m., arguing, competing, rehearsing plays and collaborating.
Speaking about Irrfan, Mita remembers not noticing him in the beginning. “He was a lanky guy with a curly mop of hair, really skinny, with bags under his eyes. But he had an incredible grin. It was a very shy grin and completely wicked. And he had this voice. I am someone who likes textured voices. It wasn’t a deep voice; it was a twangy voice like a banjo.”
Mita recalls an anecdote from when they were still in the first year. One morning, Mita and Irrfan came to blows in class. She cannot recall what they fought over, but this much she remembers: “He said something and I said something. Next thing I knew, we were hitting each other and the class had to draw us apart.”
Another person I spoke to about Irrfan Khan was his NSD teacher Ram Gopal Bajaj — affectionately called Bajjo Bhai — who was also a graduate of NSD (class of 1965). “Irrfan sabse sehma hua tha ,” Bajjo Bhai recalls. “I see a connection between him being lean, with bulging eyes, angry and yet sehma hua ke kuch kar nahi sakta . My feeling is that Irrfan didn’t have a friend in class, except for Sutapa. He was basically a loner and that is why I noticed him.” And then he adds, “There was some kind of inner gentleness in that boy, which perhaps carries on.”
However, Irrfan did stand out in one way. He thought hanging out, drinking chai at adda s, having late night conversations and arguments with classmates was a waste of time. Since Sutapa was from Delhi, she had been exposed to theatre and the arts. She could see the hunger in Irrfan to learn fast, the desperate desire to catch up with the rest of his peers, and soak up as much as possible so he could be at par with them.
Tishu agrees. “I have seen Irrfan’s growth over the years,” he says. “He had come from Jaipur, where he didn’t have a lot of exposure to philosophy and ideas. But by watching, observing, reading and discovering world cinema, he grew rather fast. I have many friends, but in Irrfan, that development is remarkable.”
“He would always be reading books; there was always the latest script of a play in his hand,” Sutapa added. “I don’t remember any other classmate who would carry so many scripts and books in their hand.”
Tishu and Irrfan first connected over their common interest in films. Tishu was seriously interested in directing films and wanted to use the NSD training as a stepping-stone to the Hindi film industry. And Irrfan wanted to act in films. They would spend a lot of time watching and talking about Hollywood films starring actors like Robert De Niro and Al Pacino, and the works of Martin Scorsese. Together they would discuss other international filmmakers, such as Rainer Werner Fassbinder.
One thing Irrfan’s NSD classmates remember is his obsession with Naseeruddin Shah. In the 1980s, the young students at NSD had a few role models — actors with independent spirits who were pioneers in the new wave or parallel cinema movement, and Naseer was definitely one of them, along with Shabana Azmi, Smita Patil and Om Puri.
“We would all tease him about it,” Mita Vashisht says. “It was like, ‘ Arre yaar Irrfan, Naseer ko chhod do (‘Please, Irrfan, forget about Naseer’).’ But it was how he wanted to approach a role, the way he wanted perform. We often saw Naseer in his performances.” Irrfan was honest enough to confess to Naseeruddin Shah how much the senior actor had inspired him. “I am glad he didn’t try to become another Naseeruddin Shah, and discovered his own identity,” Naseer says.
(This is an excerpt used with permission from the book Irrfan Khan: The Man, The Dreamer, The Star by Aseem Chhabra, printed by Rupa Publications .)
