Yeh Shyam(a) ki Tanhaiyaan
By Punjab-da-puttar | May 23rd, 2009 | Category: Film While meeting the older generation of film people has been absolutely brilliant and truly enlightening, meeting Shyama was heartbreaking. It was sad to see the actress of yesteryear leading a totally isolated and lonely life today. Especially when you consider that at her peak, she was easily the busiest of all actresses in the 1950s. She acted in all types of films in all sorts of roles – heroine, second lead and vamp, doing close to 200 films.
Shyama, born Khurshid Akhtar, began her career as an actress starting out as a 9 or 10 year old in the chorus of the first all-female qawali in Indian cinema, Aahen Na Bhari, Shikwe Na Kiye, in the Noor Jehan starrer, Zeenat (1945). By 1949 she began getting lead roles while still in her early teens. Some of her important films include Bimal Roy’s Maa (1952), Shrimatiji (1952), Guru Dutt’s Aar Paar (1954), Chhoomantar (1956), Bhai Bhai (1956), Sharada (1957), for which she received the Filmfare award for Best Supporting Actress, Chandan (1958), Duniya Jhukti Hai (1960) and Barsaat ki Raat (1960) amongst others. She particularly made a great pairing with Johnny Walker and her exuberance and liveliness made her the perfect actress to give lip sync to Geeta Dutt’s unique style of singing; perhaps maximum Geeta Dutt songs have been picturised on her. Post mid 1960s, following marriage to ace cinematographer Fali Mistry and 3 children later, as she grew older and gained weight, she switched over to character roles often being cast as the sinister brothel madam or kothewali with her last film being JP Dutta’s Hathyar (1989).
As I’ve mentioned in my earlier posts on meeting Smriti Biswas and Kamini Kaushal, meeting Shyama was part of a project fellow filmmakers and close friends Shivendra Singh Dungarpur (Shivi), Arwa Mamaji and me are doing on the golden age of Indian cinema. Meeting Shyama took quite time, in fact months, through repeated phone calls as she wasn’t keeping too well. We were almost resigned to not meeting her at all when one saw a photo in the Bombay Times of Shyama celebrating her birthday with a host of her colleagues – Nimmi, Shakila, Jabeen Jalil amongst others. Following up on the photo, we first met Shakila and when Shyama found out we had met Shakila, she finally agreed to meet us.
We met Shyama at her flat in the posh Napean Sea Road area. The walls of the entire flat are adorned with pictures and lobby cards of Shyama in her heyday. Shyama began the interview with us with gusto and cheerfulness as she recalled her awe for Noor Jehan and her career in films, recalling her work with masters like Bimal Roy and Guru Dutt and even giving us some spicy gossip of her times. But it was a mask she failed to keep up for long. Pretty soon she gave way to tears as she wept openly talking about her loneliness and the isolated life she was leading today. It was sad, poignant and as I’ve said heartbreaking. She did recompose herself and continued with the interview but the exuberance was now missing. It was hard to see the actress who looked so cute in dungarees in Aar Paar like this.
Shyama, sadly, is a typical example of the older generation of film artistes whose entire life revolved around their film career. Once their careers faded or ended, they had little else to do in life as they struggled to live life outside the limelight. For Shyama, now in her 70s, husband Fali Mistry passed away prematurely in 1979 and her children too now live on their own, leaving her all alone. Health problems too plague her as she uses an oxygen cylinder for respiratory purposes and she is periodically in and out of Breach Candy Hospital near her home.
Shivi, Arwa and I have tried to keep in touch with her by meeting her and just sitting and chatting with her a couple of times since that first meeting. One of my most memorable movie memorabilia is a song booklet of Shrimatiji, signed personally by Shyama while Shivi proudly displays an autographed photographed of her in Aar Paar in his office, beautifully framed. But the last few times we have called to visit, she cited ill-health each time and has not been up to meeting us.
Each time one has met Shyama, I can’t help but recall the hard truth of Henry Miller’s words – “Fame is an illusive thing — here today, gone tomorrow. The fickle, shallow mob raises its heroes to the pinnacle of approval today and hurls them into oblivion tomorrow at the slightest whim; cheers today, hisses tomorrow; utter forgetfulness in a few months.”
Sunset Blvd….Wrinkled Emotions…..
Was thinking…all of us are going to be old and then dead someday. But people in the movies (media)and in the gaze of the media, we really never accept them as mortals like us. Thus the shock and lament I believe.
Like George Fernandes in this election. Pushing 80, frail as hell, hardly coherent in speech din’t feature on any news channel or hardly got any space in print media. He lost with a handsome margin. He was standing independent as a rebel against a party he formed!.it was pathetic to see a stalwart like him not even having enough volunteers to help him around personally, leave aside campaigning etc….. Sad yes….but then you also feel…vanity, ego, anger…often send logic for a toss.
Hmm… good article… evokes a sad scenario and a tremendous amount of nostalgia… Great that your blog and upperstall keep on reviving such memories… We need history to understrand the present and move forward…
Did u do the interview on tape..? What a fabulous initiative and through that an opportunity to meet the ’stars’ we have all so admired, loved and literally looked upto…! Literally, because, we were all kids, watching these ild B&W films on Sunday and later, Saturday evenings on good old DD… Watching films on (now defunct) video-tapes… Listening to the songs on LPs and cassettes and on radio- and visualizing the song picturization from our memories of the weekly Chayageet…
Lucky guys, you! Just holler if you need even someone to help pick up the equipment! “Hum bhi khadey hai, raahon mein”
Cubbu,
You hit the nail on the head.
Ronnie,
Thanks for your feedback. Much appreciated.
Jkd,
Yes, we do have all the interviews on tape and are compiling the transcripts. Let me tell you, it makes for extremely fascinating reading.
That must have been something… you now, its the way life is - what happens to people once the limelight is cut off. Yet, it is so awfully sad. Loneliness always is.
Wise one,
I think this meeting with Shyama hit all of us all the more harder as the others we met be it Kamini Kaushal, Shakila, Shammi Kapoor, Smriti Biswas, Tanuja or Kum Kum - they might have been out of the limelight for years themselves but at least seemed content in life with some family around them. Otherwise, yes, that’s the way life is in showbiz - several luminaries of yesteryear have known to be extremely lonely and forgotten in the twilight of their lives, the world over…sad but true…
a piece written with a lot of feeling and studied facts, evokes nostalgia yes, but also leaves the reader with some thoughts. a fine balance this is.
Thanks anil.
Punjab-da-Puttar,
This kind of loneliness and abandonment is common to many, many old people. Often, they don’t even have the power of money to make their lives comfortable. I guess it’s just that a film star’s drop into oblivion punches us more in the stomach, because the fall is so much bigger.
Sadly, with lives becoming busier, and our society becoming more and more youth-centric, there seems to be no place for old people any more. Specially harder I think to live in a city like Mumbai.
Bang on Banno. Well put as usual.
It is sad what our profession can do to us… she’s soo gorgeous…i felt very bad after reading the article… it can happen to neone of us….
Well sketched and thoughtful. Do write often.
Two things stand out. Not having a personal life of your own that is seperate and unlinked to the screen industry is the cause of this sadness and sorrow. One should always have ones own personal space to go back away from the limelight when the time is ripe. Whether one is in sports, films or politics.
Aahana, tragic indeed are the ways of showbiz…The highs are very high but the lows…
Thanks for the feedback, Leenus. Agree with you totally. In fact, have yet to see anyone more content in life today than Kamini Kaushal among the older lot of film personalities. She was always clear right from the beginning. There’s more to life than films. And lived her life that way.
Hi Karan,
A touching piece of information. I feel while you meet the stalwarts now and then you should also have them recorded on a handy cam, maybe some day it will help us compile these precious information in a dvd form. what say?
Thanks Surya.
Yes, we have recorded the interviews on a handycam. We’re also in the process of editing and compiling proper transcripts of all our interviews. It’s fascinating, brilliant, enlightening, nostalgic, poignant, joyous…a treasure trove of memories of Indian cinema’s golden age.
Hello Mr. Bali:
Would you consider adding some of what you have here to the Wikipedia article I requested on Shayama?Someone put in a stub and I added a little bit, but the article is woefully inadequate at this point. Perhaps you can fix this by adding a brief biography and a filmography.
Nice write up but Shyama ki Shaam [Tanhaiyaan] is no different from Praveen Babi’s, Lalita Pawar’s and so many others…’Sunset Boulevard’ / Aparna Sen’s 36 Chowinghee Lane, Notes on a Scandal…all depicted this pain and loneliness beautifully.. but I look at tis this issue beyond films…in fact it has nothing to do with films…It’s universal -happens all the time- with many …It’s painful because most of us go on living life without imagining similar situation for ourselves..hence never prepare ourselves for the same but when it eventually turns up– we do not know how to handle it and plunge ourselves into depression! Hope there’s something for us to learn from these stories and prepare ourselves better to face it when it sets in!
Puttar: Nice piece evoking the fickleness of fame and fortune. Also kudos for you and your gangs work in documenting the golden age of Bollywood through personal memories. Loved the quote from Henry Miller - one of my favorite authors too.
Sanjivan: Think you are ban on the target… such depressive states are perhaps universal … thanks for pointing out the warning hidden in Shyama;s story for all us.
Puttar - your blog reminds me that I havent been able to visit my parents for some time now…
Mr. Spellman,
I’m still working on collecting enough material on Shyama to write a detailed, in depth profile. Will keep you posted.
boorback,
Thanks. Had a very nice second meeting with Smriti Biswas yesterday so more fascinating material to sift and document!
Sanjivan,
Thanks. Yes, if this serves as an eye opener to people, nothing quite like it.
Ram, do visit soon. I myself haven’t met my mother for a very long time having been totally caught up in work. Am, in fact, taking a little extended break and going home later this month. Every moment spent with our parents at this point of their lives is well worth it.
I can’t wait for this project to come to fruition and be shared
You are fortunate indeed to be meeting such great people. Am sorry for Shyama’s unhappiness…and agree that as your life changes you need to change to and adjust to things to remain happy. Thanks for sharing!
Very good article. Can you add some photos of her hey day specially from the films which had colour - not black and white.
Memsaab,
Yes one is indeed lucky to have met all these greats of Indian cinema. How I wish I was a filmmaker in that era!
Harold,
Thanks for the feedback. Practically all of Shyama’s films in her heyday were in B & W. I can only recall Zabak (1961) in colour where she was leading lady to Mahipal. Don’t have any colour stills of her, sorry! But if I manage to get any, will surely upload.
Poignant piece…I’ve been following your blogs about personalities (mainly heroines) of the ‘Golden Age’ of Bollywood. Have you done interviews with cameramen, music directors, art directors and other technicians and of course male stars / important character actors? Would be nice if you share a few morsels of your encounters with such people…
Thanks for your feedback slowfade.
Have met Shammi Kapoor, music director Ravi, cinematographer VK Murthy, make up man Baburao Pavaskar and most recently dancer Sheila Vaz (Ramaiya Vastavaiya, Leke Pehla Pehla Pyar). Yes, would be doing pieces on these meetings too by and by.
Dear Punjab da Puttar ,
Would the completed work ( of editing and compiling proper transcripts of all your interviews.of the yesteryear Greats ) be available in form of DVD’s of interviews ? or will it be in form of a book ? If yes , when one could buy a copy and at what source ?
Please advise avaialabilty details .
I particularly hope that the completed work will certainly include articles, many memories and recorded interview of yestreyear actress Shakila .
Have any article been published on Shakila in the Upperstall Blog ?
Please advise
Filmgoer, we have a lot of work still to do on the transcripts and this is connected to another larger project, so unsure yet of both, final product and timeline.
Of course, we have Shakila’s interview as well. I intend to do one of my forthcoming blog pieces on that meeting and also on the one with Shammi Kapoor. Sometime soon, I hope.