tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3323055455490648342024-03-14T15:39:01.642+05:30papa ajobaStories and photos of my grand father- a make-up artist in the Bombay film industry from 1948.I lovingly called him papa ajoba- meaning father -grandfather, in Marathi.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-69364608919098388682012-04-20T15:52:00.001+05:302012-04-20T16:00:45.778+05:30Dada Saheb Phalke's Make Up ArtistAs part of superb research done on Dada Saheb Phalke by the cult director Kamal Swaroop, I discovered this page on <a href="http://wiki.phalkefactory.net/index.php?title=Make_up_man%27s_story" target="_blank">Sadashivrao Tapkire, Phalke's make up artist.</a><br />
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Kamal's entire work on Phalke is extremely valuable and can be found <a href="http://wiki.phalkefactory.net/index.php?title=Main_Page" target="_blank">here</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-30282989788616538002011-08-14T09:57:00.008+05:302011-08-14T11:20:29.139+05:30Death of the Archive<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cECuHBVwtsE/TkdejRFH6II/AAAAAAAAA44/UQMEpHoUSoE/s1600/untitled%2B3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cECuHBVwtsE/TkdejRFH6II/AAAAAAAAA44/UQMEpHoUSoE/s320/untitled%2B3.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640581018278160514" /></a>
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<br />Papa Ajoba: 8.6.1921 to 25.7.2011
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<br />We celebrated Papa Ajoba's 90th birthday on 8th of June 2011. It was a small get together with very close family and friends. A month later on 8th of July I was passing through Bombay and for a reason completely unknown to me,I decided to record Papa Ajoba. He spoke passionately and coherently about the filmi mazdoor union and how the workers had organised themselves to form a union to make demands from their studios and producers. He said that the union had started at Famous Studio in Mahalaxmi, Bombay and the union had even produced a film. The conversation continued to other things like the Indian National Theatre (INT) and his theatre days. I returned to Bangalore only to go back the following week, for what was to be my last week with my grand father.
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<br />He contracted malaria and then pneumonia and passed away on the 25th of July at 8.30 a.m. 2011. It has taken me me three weeks to bring myself to post it on this blog. Mainly because of my own inability to accept the fact that he is no more.(If I have the courage to transcribe his last conversation with me, I will post that too.) But this morning as I woke up and read the news of Shammi Kapoor's death, I felt that this post had to be written. That this is a strange coincidence:two artists, collaborators, who worked so closely for over 30 years, spent many mad and memorable times on film sets, die less than a month apart. My mother had called Shammiji, informing him of my grand father's death, Shammji was not able to come to the phone due to his own ailing health. But his wife had said to my mother on hearing the news, "we have lost a family member".
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<br />For the next few days the TV channels will pay tribute to Shammiji and in the coming years, TV channels will dedicate several shows to Shammiji. I will watch those over and over again, for every image of Shammiji I see, I will see Papa Ajoba, standing outside the periphery, watching the shoot, cracking jokes with his co-workers, enjoying his work and doing what he loved most, making other people look good. Papa Ajoba was a rockstar and I miss him.
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-50764834520224148882010-03-08T11:49:00.006+05:302010-03-08T12:49:06.080+05:30Raise High the Roof Beam- Waqt Ne Kiya, Kagaz Ke Phool<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/S5SaDf_CFeI/AAAAAAAAAm8/Tbz5NWd-Bfw/s1600-h/598_interview_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/S5SaDf_CFeI/AAAAAAAAAm8/Tbz5NWd-Bfw/s320/598_interview_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446147234313934306" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">PART 2</span><br /><br />A.G: How did the famous <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5UiXeDqpz1s">Waqt Ne Kiya</a> song from Kagaz Ke Phool with the light beam come about?<br /><br />V.K: It happened just like that, one day around 4 or 5 p.m. we were sitting in the studio and from top where the ventilators were, we saw light beaming in. It used to happen every day but none of us had looked carefully. So one day myself and Guru Dutt were sitting idle in the studio and I saw this beam and I told Guru Dutt, “ dekhona yeh kitna acha lagta hai”( see how beautiful this looks), utna hi bola mai and suddenly Guru Dutta ne mujhe pakad liya, he said arre Murthy tum aisa karo na hamare picture mei. So I said mei kaisa kar sakta hoon, it is natural sunlight coming through that hole. Guru Dutt said,I don’t know how but I also like it and you are also appreciating, tum kuch karo. Yeh hamara das din ka schedule hai to tum kuch bhi karke karo, bring that effect. So he inspired me. I started thinking how I should do it. I thought maybe I will bring a huge light and put it through a hole. So I got a 10 kilo watt light from Shantaram’s Raj Kamal Studios. But I could not get that effect because that light gives a divergent beam and I wanted a parallel beam…kya karenge? I needed a parallel beam. Next day during lunch time we were sitting, me and Guru Dutt on a cement bench. Just then our make- up man was carrying a mirror in his hand, passing by. Are you getting what I am saying?<br /><br />A.G: Ah! the make-up man, yes.<br /><br />V.K: So the sunlight that fell on the mirror threw a ray like thing on the studio wall, so that gave me the idea, (claps his hands and says) I got it, mei bola. Bolo kya chahiye bolo, Guru Dutt asked me. I said, nothing I need two large mirrors. Dutt told the production manager, bring him the two biggest mirrors. We got two mirrors of 4 feet height and 2 and a half feet wide. One mirror I kept in the balcony, outside in the sun light. I kept the balcony door open. The light reflected from that mirror reflected on another mirror inside the studio that was placed on the catwalk.<br /><br />A.G: So from outside to a mirror inside?<br /><br />V.K: You see light is a straight beam no? Light travels straight doesn’t it? So we opened studio ventilator doors, kept a mirror there that captured the sunlight which was then reflected onto the mirror on the catwalk. The mirror on the catwalk was tied in a certain way to capture the reflection and then adjusted to suit my frame. Understood? Did you understand?<br /><br />A.G: You basically channeled the sunlight from outside onto the mirror on the catwalk which was directed onto your frame, which we see in the sequence?<br /><br />V.K: Yes, correct. We positioned the light as we needed and then we put some lubhan (it is like a large incense stick that produces smoke).<br /><br />A.G: What did you put?<br /><br />V.K: Lubhan, lubhan, woh lubhan dalne se smoke aata hai (Lubhan produces smoke) because if there is no smoke you cannot see the light beam clearly and lubhan smoke is good for health also. Thats how I got that shot, that became a historical shot in Indian cinematography in those days.<br /><br />A.G: It still is!<br /><br />V.K: There were many directors and cameramen, there was this cameraman for Mehboob Studio called <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0409789/">Fareedoon Irani</a>, he had seen me doing this and he asked me, “Murthy kya kar rahe ho?” (what are you doing?) So I said, “aise hi koi experiment kar raho hoon”. (I am just experimenting). He said “acha”, didn’t say anything more, he was a senior most cameraman. Next day, I wanted this shot to be immediately developed and processed since I wanted to see the results, how it looked. The rushes had come but I was shooting so it was sent to the projection room. You know what, in the meanwhile this Fareedoon Irani went and saw it! (Laughs)<br /><br />A.G: Before you?<br /><br />V.K: In the lunchtime I was so going towards the projection room, dekhne ke liye. Just then Fareedoon sahib was coming down the staircase and he said , “ arre Murthy, kya kamal kaam kiya re” ( Murthy you have done such fantastic work) and he came and embraced me and said that for so many years we were not able to do it but you have done a great thing. He said, “go go and see your own work, it is so beautiful”. That was the biggest compliment I got and also I was very happy. But I never thought it would become history. I thought the beam looks good in the studio. At that time it didn’t occur to me that it was such a great thing. Accidentally we did it and said chalo maja atta hai, issi liye kar diya. (We were having fun and we just did it!)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-79715228386959818302010-03-07T19:05:00.013+05:302010-03-07T20:38:23.554+05:30Light travels in a straight line- V.K .Murthy, the (legendary) cinematographer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/S5Oux1jS7AI/AAAAAAAAAm0/9Nmj3s2WQtE/s1600-h/DSCN0189.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/S5Oux1jS7AI/AAAAAAAAAm0/9Nmj3s2WQtE/s320/DSCN0189.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445888545633004546" /></a><br /><br />I read an <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/fr/2010/02/26/stories/2010022651100100.htm">article</a> in The Hindu last week on V.K. Murthy, the legendary cinematographer of films are like Pyasa and Kagaz Ke Phool. He has just been awarded the Dada Saheb Phalke Award, the highest honour for anyone from the Indian film industry.He is the first cinematographer to be winning the Phalke award. After reading the article I wanted to spend an afternoon listening to his stories. Given that Papa ajoba is in Bombay and I am in Bangalore, entries for this blog have been drying up.I was lucky that V.K. Murthy lives in Bangalore. After a few phone calls I got myself an appointment with Mr. Murthy for Sunday afternoon.<br /><br />I spent over two hours listening to him. I will try and recount the interview in the next few posts, in the coming weeks.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />PART 1: Meeting Guru Dutt</span><br />Mr. Murthy was the first employee of Famous Studio in Bombay. In 1948 Mr.Murthy had gone to meet its Marwari owner Mr. Rungta who had just taken over from Siraj Ali Hakim. Hakim who had wanted to start Bombay's first air conditioned studio, built Famous but had to leave India soon after partition. Mr. Rungta who had financed the building of Famous Studios, now had to take over. He knew little about the intricacies of film making but when Murthy demanded Rs.250 as assistant cameraman, the Marwari flatly refused. Murthy who had been sent there by Fali Mistry struck a deal with Rungta saying that if Fali-Sahib said he should be paid Re.1 he would agree to even that. Finally Rungta employed Murthy for a monthly salary is Rs.175. Murthy's first task at Famous was to double check the film equipment that had already been bought. Murthy says, " according to the list, there were supposed to 25 lights but there were only ten and four Mitchel cameras had been purchased but there was only one!"<br /><br />For four years Murthy worked with Famous as an assistant to Fali Mistry, Jal Mistry. He says,"in those days one had to work with which ever producer worked with a certain studio.But later some people started bringing their own cameramen. So one day Dev Anand and Guru Dutt came to Famous. They had an understanding (Guru Dutt and Dev Anand) that whichever one of the two would become successful first, that person would help the other get work. So naturally Dev Anand being an actor became successful faster than Guru Dutt and he gave Guru Dutt his first opportunity to direct Baazi."<br /><br />Murthy continues, " the cameraman for Baazi was Dev Anand's cousin a certain Mr. Ratra and I was to assist him.Ratra was a happy go lucky fellow. During Baazi I watched very closely how Guru Dutt worked, with careful attention to characters, script and I enjoyed working with him very much. While we were shooting Baazi, I made a suggestion to shoot a song interlude in a certain way. Guru Dutt loved the idea and asked Ratra to shoot it that way.But Ratra was hesitant to take that shot since it had complicated camera movement. I wanted to ask them to let me shoot it but how could I? But Ratra himself said since it is Murthy's idea let him shoot it. So there I was shooting for Guru Dutt. But before I started shooting I told them I would go on with as many takes as I needed to get it right. I was lucky I should say, since the very first take was OK and for safety we took one more. That evening after pack up Guru Dutt came and said to me, Murthy yourself and myself will work together from the next picture onwards, for always. So that's how I got a break...all Guru Dutt films I did, from A to Z."<br /><br />Contd...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-65218666235854330092010-02-15T16:21:00.003+05:302010-02-15T16:49:50.545+05:30Two Plays<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/S3kthkT1H5I/AAAAAAAAAmM/ak8fAdnruLU/s1600-h/Shah-Shivaji.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/S3kthkT1H5I/AAAAAAAAAmM/ak8fAdnruLU/s320/Shah-Shivaji.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438428079732367250" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/S3kthLhGEbI/AAAAAAAAAmE/tgUEhOZzKnI/s1600-h/Sangeet.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/S3kthLhGEbI/AAAAAAAAAmE/tgUEhOZzKnI/s320/Sangeet.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438428073077117362" /></a><br />I found the first page of two plays written by Yeshwantrao Tipnis on the <a href="http://sanskritdocuments.org/scannedbooks/MarathiIISc.html">IISC, Bangalore</a> website. The preliminary indication of where his other plays might be.<br /><br />The first play is called <span style="font-weight:bold;">Shah-Shivaji</span> (meaning Shah- Sivaji) and the second is called <span style="font-weight:bold;">Sangeet Chandragrahan </span>(This literally translated means<span style="font-style:italic;"> A Musical Lunar Eclispse</span>, however I must understand the context of the play to know what it is a metaphor for.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-41039675752034025972010-02-15T15:21:00.008+05:302010-02-15T16:20:06.642+05:30My grand father's father<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/S3kkjOFOegI/AAAAAAAAAl8/KsxK5oJB0HU/s1600-h/kolaba0.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 284px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/S3kkjOFOegI/AAAAAAAAAl8/KsxK5oJB0HU/s320/kolaba0.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438418212520622594" /></a><br /><br />Recently papa ajoba, took a long road trip deep into the Konkan region of Maharashtra. He and the rest of his siblings went to Mahad. While some of his siblings had grown up there, Papa ajoba was going back for the first time since 1935. The occasion, the auctioning of their ancestral land. Mahad is a small town in the Raigad district of Maharashtra, best known as the place where Ambedkar delivered his <a href="http://www.cscsarchive.org/dataarchive/otherfiles/TA001003/file">historical speech</a>, giving the Dalit movement an impetus.<br /><br />Papa ajoba's father was Madhavrao Tipnis and his uncle was Yeshwantrao Tipnis, one a successful actor and the other a well known playwright and director had started their theatre company, called Mahatrashtra Natak Mandali in Mahad. The theatre company was well known for its socially relevant plays, that were often banned by the British. While my great grandfather often played women characters, my great-grand uncle was known for the explosive dialogues he wrote.<br /><br />I found to my surprise on the <a href="http://www.maharashtra.gov.in/english/gazetteer/KOLABA/about_kolaba.html">Maharashtra Government website's Gazetteer Department</a> page, the mention of Madhavrao Tipnis. It listed the men who had significantly contributed to the region called Kolaba, now known as Raigad District. It said :<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Thus a vacuum was, as it were, created in the social life of Kolaba, and although a number of illustrious persons, who later distinguished themselves in Bombay, hailed from Kolaba, the region did not get the benefit of their leadership. The late Mr. Rambhau Mandlik of Pen (1881-1958) who was for many years a member of the Bombay legislature was known to be a fearless constitutional fighter against the British Government, and he often made the Government officers uneasy in their seats by his persistence in pursuing a cause once taken up by him. Amongst some of the men of literary fame, we may note the late Mr. Sankar Balkrsna Diksit of Revadanda, the author of 'Jyotir-vilas', the late Mr. Balkrsna Anant Bhide, a well-known Marathi Scholar of Murud-Janjira and the late Principal G. C. Bhate, an active advocate of social reform coming from Mahad. The late Mr. S. M. Paranjape, champion of revolutionary nationalism and the editor of a weekly Marathi journal 'Kal' belonged to Mahad and <span style="font-weight:bold;">the famous actor of Maharashtra Natak Mandali, Madhavrav Tipnis also belonged to the same place.</span> In recent years Dr. Am-bedkar made Mahad as if it were his home town and started his famous satyagraha of the untouchables in 930 for asserting their right of being allowed to take water from 'cavdar tale'. It was a historic incident. It may also be noted in passing that Mahamahopadhyaya D. V. Potdar, Mr. C. D. Deshmukh. the ex-Finance Minister of India, also belong to Kolaba district.</span><br /><br />In an attempt to trace my past and family history I had started recording stories that my grand father told me. But what lies virtually undiscovered is the history of his father's traveling theatre company, the Maharashtra Natak Mandali. From now I will try to piece together the history of this company through the photographs, documents and of course (cell phone) conversations with papa ajoba.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-34731448898861519482009-09-08T12:24:00.003+05:302012-08-03T16:41:36.271+05:30Personal history?When I started recording stories that my grand father used to tell me about his career as a make up artist in the Hindi film industry from 1941 to roughly 1995 little did I realize that the process would be so enriching. It was enriching not only because it added to my understanding of film history but also because it made me question my methodology to research. I would very often lose my patience with my grand father because he was someone I could lose my patience with: unlike a formal subject- researcher relationship. At the outset of the research project he had made it clear to me that he had to be the “hero” of the story and that I should not portray him as an also ran.<br />
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So I started with my protagonist, his stories and an old dictaphone. Given papa ajoba’s background in theatre, he would start acting, enunciating when I turned on the recording device. Many a times I would ask him to retell stories and he would repeat them verbatim, as if they were rehearsed. The facts he did not want to me to record at all, were the scandalous affairs that that various actors had. The gossip was kept out of his stories for as long as the dictaphone was on. Once I put it off, stories of how a glamorous actress’ husband came looking for her in the make up room because he suspected her of having an affair with a superstar of the time or how one day, a senior star after drinking too much ended breaking the bones of two brothers on the same night, came to the fore. I think papajoba was very conscious of the fact he must tell these stories “properly”. <br />
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I was able to take him to meet two of his favorite stars, Sadhana and Shammi Kapoor. The reason I wanted to meet these two was that I was interested in seeing the power dynamics between a ‘make up artist' and the ‘star’. With Sadhana, the camaraderie was obvious; in fact papaajoba hardly let her speak. He continued to tell his stories, many of which I had heard over the last several months. I was irritated at first but slowly through the course of the interview realised what he said to me at the beginning of this project, “I don’t want to be an also ran,” I realized that maybe for the first time he is centre of attention in front of her. This project is about him, she had to merely add to the stories not be the focus. It’s also the first time she realized that he knows a lot more technically and his memory is far better than hers, he is 85 and she is about 69. With Shammi Kapoor, the exchange was warm but he was clearly the ‘star’ and gave us just 30 minutes of his time and no more. He spoke to the point, offered us tea and packed us off after reciting a poem about himself written by Kamlesh Pandey, admittedly all very dramatic.<br />
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The other interesting thing I noted was that my grand father not only added <span style="font-style: italic;">ji</span> before every actresses name but for all the men he added sahib so he called Shammi Kapoor, Shammi <span style="font-style: italic;">sahib</span>, S. Mukherjee (the producer at Filmistan) Mukherjee sahib, the villain Pran was also called Pran <span style="font-style: italic;">sahib</span> and on so on. The other technicians who were older than him or his seniors he referred to as <span style="font-style: italic;">dada</span> for e.g. Mr.Paranjpye, the make up artist who papaajoba began his career with was called Paranjpye <i>dada </i>or the make up artist at Prithviraj Kapoor’s theatre, was also referred to as More <span style="font-style: italic;">dada</span>. Mr.Jagtap the sound recordist at Filmistan again was called Jagtap <span style="font-style: italic;">dada</span>. I think this differentiation was to do with class and stature and not so much just age or seniority. All the people he called <span style="font-style: italic;">sahib</span> were clearly from a higher social strata and were actors, directors, producers. The term <span style="font-style: italic;">dada</span> was more a term of endearment to someone he respected or was senior but either was a technician or from the same socio-economic background as my grand father. For e.g.Dhumaal the comedian who worked as a part of my great grand father’s theatre company was called Dhumaal <span style="font-style: italic;">dada</span>. Of course with younger stars like Dharmendra, Sanjeev Kumar, Rajesh Khanna, papa ajoba referred to them by their first names. This is my observation, that while he was at Filmistan this was some sort of an unwritten norm but after the studios started to close down and technicians became freelancers they didn’t have a strict protocol to follow.<br />
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I have no doubt in my mind that the process of recording the stories was extremely worthwhile and as it often happens with stories: we started getting an audience. And it would happen that my friends would drop by to listen to his narrative while I was recording. And sometimes they would continue sitting with papa ajoba long after I had finished my work and the stories would continue into the night. There was one on Rajesh Khanna’s chamchas, which my friends recall with pleasure and papa ajoba narrated it sparing almost no expletives in the Hindi language. <span style="font-weight: bold;">The point is that this project was not researched in the conventional manner: in fact the idea of just listening to the story is what drove it. </span><br />
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There are varied methodologies that can be used and I have always found the more unconventional ones exciting. For example, I started my career as a production assistant with an upcoming filmmaker. In the initial months of my job I was sent to find C-grade film producers in the underbelly of Bombay. Not armed with much except the excitement of a rookie, I scavenged the streets of Oshiwara in Andheri where young ‘wannabe’ starlets frequented one-room-kitchen offices of production houses: that was my field for research and the books I was told to refer to were film trade magazines like Super Cinema, Box Office and of course Complete Cinema. This was in essence my first tryst with film research or serious research of any kind. Before this, the research I had done was for college projects, mostly from the library or the internet and a few interviews with ‘subjects’ for a student documentary.<br />
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I am indebted to my first boss for putting me through the grind of looking for material in the dark and sometimes dangerous world of the Hindi C-grade film industry. I could not have asked for a more challenging subject or a research methodology so different, where I almost always, had to take up pseudonyms while conducting interviews and more often than not lied about my motive. Those were days when ‘taking your subject into confidence’ meant nothing and a little cheating went a long way in unearthing the truth, well almost. Little did I realise at the time that this was my first brush with recording film history or my active engagement as a researcher of that part of the film industry that often gets overlooked for a more mainstream history. <br />
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It was this interest in recording a second rung film history that made me record my grand father’s stories. But I was concerned throughout the recording process of my relationship to my subject. At a level it was even worrying: was I doing what most documentary filmmakers do, point their cameras at the subjects and ‘frame’ them and pretend to tell their story? This was one crucial reason why I did not want to video record him but used a dictaphone instead. The idea of ‘framing’ my grand father was an uncomfortable thought. But the question that kept troubling me was: can one be a detached, unobtrusive recorder? In my case I was not detached but in fact passionately attached to my “subject”. I was terribly intrusive, always telling my subject to speak loudly, or speak in Hindi rather than Marathi and sometimes even forced him to recognise people in photographs that he could not. This was a conscious process (the bickering, the cajoling), the attempt at creating the ‘real’ relationship between me and my grand father, in this case also a researcher and her subject.<br />
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I also realised that because of the fellowship, I had given time to just listen to what an 85 year old man from the film industry had to say. I wish I had given that much time to my paternal grand father who worked for the railways during the British rule, who knows what insights one might have gained. Or better still what if I had chatted longer with both my grand mothers about feminism in their times or simply recorded their stories. It is these stories that start the construction of tradition. The idea that I have a tradition of theatre and cinema in my family shapes who I am today. But tradition is loaded word, even dangerous perhaps: who decides what turns into a tradition and what does not.<br />
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This is perhaps the reason tradition has to be re-looked at ever so often. It also needs frequent questioning in order to make place for newer narratives, lesser heard voices. I hope with my grand father’s story one has perhaps been able to add another voice from the periphery of the Bombay film industry. But this voice is not adequate in discovering a newer cinema history or even challenging the traditional film history but it is an attempt. This project is a start for me as researcher to probe further, look deeper for unexcavated stories from the past. <br />
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Finally this project has been a process of discovery of family ties, long lost homes and of course of forgotten people and their lives.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-63429210123034127932009-06-08T22:03:00.002+05:302014-01-08T23:59:37.779+05:30Happy Birthday to you Papa AjobaToday papaajoba turns 88: a colourful life of films, joy and struggle. Here's wishing him a great birthday with a song from a film he was the make up man on for his favorite actress Sadhana.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yd5KuLpwPD8">Happy Birthday to you.</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-12293126226266717852009-02-02T22:56:00.006+05:302009-02-02T23:32:41.421+05:30Debashree's Interview with papa ajoba<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/SYczmrp3CjI/AAAAAAAAAdU/gW1HFIlGu7M/s1600-h/papajo.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/SYczmrp3CjI/AAAAAAAAAdU/gW1HFIlGu7M/s320/papajo.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298260226271021618" /></a><br />Ever since I moved to Bangalore I have not been able to do anymore work with my grand father for this blog. But once in awhile somebody sees this blog or meets me somewhere and wants to meet papaajoba and sometimes like Debashree Mukherjee they want to meet him for their own research.<br /><br />When Debashree asked me if she could interview my grant father I was more than happy, my only condition was that she should share her interaction, learnings,insights on this blog. She agreed and below is the transcript of her interview with papaajoba.<br /><br />P.S. This is papa ajoba's latest photograph taken by Debashree.<br /><br /><br />*********************************************<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Excerpts From An Interview with Ram Tipnis, 18th August, 2008, at his Bandra residence<br /><br />This interview was conducted as part of my M.Phil research on the Hindustani film industry in Bombay during the 1930s and 40s. One of my areas of focus is a cluster of film studios of the time, particularly Filmistan. A friend suggested that I take a look at Anuja’s blog and I’m still thanking her for that piece of timely advice! Filmistan studio was founded in 1943-44 by a breakaway group from the famous Bombay Talkies Ltd.; a move spearheaded by Sashadhar Mukherjee and Rai Bahadur Chunilal. This interview tries to understand certain material practices and individuals associated with Filmistan in the 1940s. <br /><br />Mr. Tipnis’ story is significant not just as an account of an earlier time, but also because it is an unlikely voice. While there is a paucity of published research on the early years of the talkies in Bombay, the little that exists has had to depend on official studio sources or interviews with star actors and directors. It is rare to find the voice of a make-up artiste in a context wherein even cinematographers and editors do not receive any journalistic or scholarly attention. <br /><br />The interview was conducted in a mix of Hindi and English, and I have used my discretion to translate Mr. Tipnis’ words. A lot of the material in this interview might overlap with material already on the blog. But then, memories often have a cyclical, repetitive nature. These notes are part of my ongoing research and are presented here verbatim. I am grateful to Anuja Ghosalkar, and her mother, Nayana Ghosalkar, for facilitating this conversation. And of course, much gratitude to Mr. Tipnis, for sharing his memories with such felicity.</span><br /><br /><br />DM: When and how did you join Filmistan?<br />RT: Filmistan started in 1942-43. At the time I was working as a make-up artiste at Shantaram’s Rajkamal Studio. I had some minor misunderstanding with V. Shantaram one day and tempers flared. He shouted at me and I, being young and hot-headed, just quit. I don’t know if it was bad luck or good, but that’s what motivated my move to Filmistan. I knew a character actor of the time, Nana Palsikar, who had done work with Bombay Talkies and knew the Filmistan gang. He wrote me two recommendation letters - one to be given to Rai Bahadur Chunilal, the Managing Director of Filmistan Ltd., and the second to be given to Mr. Sashadhar Mukherjee, the Controller of Productions. I went to Filmistan the very next day, armed with my letters. Both the men met me and asked me some questions. Then they called their own make-up artiste, Mr. Jadhav. Rai Bahadur asked him: “Do you know this young man?” And Jadhav replied, “Yes.” Jadhav was an old and experienced make-up artiste who had worked for Marathi theatre as well. He knew my father, a stage actor, and was familiar with my work.<br /><br />And so, in 1945, at the age of 25, I officially joined the Filmistan team. S. Mukherjee told me that they had started work on a film titled Shikari and they needed special Chinese make-up for one of the characters. He suggested that I take on the make-up work for the film, supervised by Mr. Jadhav. The actor playing the role was Samson, who generally played the villain in most films. I did a trial for the Chinese look on him and we went to Rai Bahadur and S. Mukherjee. They loved it. Rai Bahadur said, “Arrey! He is Chinese!” So I was now officially on board and doing my own film.<br />…<br /><br />Shikari was directed by Savak Vacha, the sound recordist at Filmistan. He belonged to the Sashadhar Mukjerjee group and had come with him from Bombay Talkies…<br /><br />DM: What was it that went wrong at Bombay Talkies?<br />RT: See, after Himansu Rai passed away, the studio was managed by Devika Rani. Amiya Chakravarty was her preferred director, and maybe Sashadhar Mukherjee felt sidelined. I don’t know exactly, but there was some misunderstanding. So Sashadhar Mukherjee, Ashok Kumar, Rai Bahadur Chunilal, Dattaram Pai, Gyan Mukerjee and Savak Vacha left Bombay Talkies and started their own Filmistan Studio. S. Mukherjee started his career at Bombay Talkies as a sound recordist and then learnt the ropes of filmmaking. He was very good at his work. Rai Bahadur Chunilal was a great man. I can vouch for the fact that if he had lived for another 10 years, the film industry would have been transformed. His son, by the way, was Madan Mohan.<br /><br />DM: Do you remember any of the Filmistan writers? There used to be this writer called Manto…<br />RT: Yes. I remember him, but never had much contact with him. He was from the Writing Department so I would just see him around. Sometimes he would come on the sets during a shoot. You might know that he also acted in a Filmistan film, Eight Days…<br /><br />DM: As an Air Force Officer?<br />RT: As a pagal! He was a good man. Every artiste has his ideas. He soon left for Pakistan…<br /><br />DM: Were Rajkamal and Filmistan very different in terms of work atmosphere?<br />RT: Rajkamal Studio was like a Junior College for artistes. I was doing independent pictures at that time, when Rajkamal started. The man who did their make-up was my guru and he suggested that I join them. I was earning Rs. 150 outside but accepted the Rajkamal job for Rs.75 – because Rajkamal was a school, Shantaram was an artist. There was discipline, but another kind of discipline. Like don’t go there, don’t do that. But it was a school. We learnt how to create make-up material at Rajkamal. Now we know the procedure.<br /><br />Filmistan was like a higher college, Senior College, very different but very fine. Rai Bahadur would come every day at quarter to two, without fail. Never a minute’s delay. That used to be lunch time so he would eat a bit and then take his rounds of the studio at 2pm. That was a time of the day when no one would be outside. Even the artistes would be in their rooms. One day he happened to be on a round as I was getting out of the toilet. He looked at me and kept walking. After some minutes his office boy came and called me saying Sir wants to see you. I wondered what was going on but hurried to his office. Rai Bahadur said that he was disappointed in me. “You are a Senior Officer of this company, the Head of a department, how can you be so careless?” I was completely taken aback. Then he told me that he had noticed that my trousers were still unbuttoned when I got out of the toilet! Such a small thing, but its these details that make an impression. That was their kind of discipline.<br /><br />I remember another incident. In those days, Max Factor, the US make-up company, was the only established brand making professional products. So we all used to buy our basic materials from them. I used to personally go to their office at Gateway of India to pick up stuff. Rai Bahadur again summoned me one day and said that as an Officer of the company I should not travel by second-class on the local train. It is a question of the company’s reputation. So he got me a First-class pass. <br /><br />Again, another time, an assistant of mine applied for a salary increment. Rai Bahadur called me and asked me if I agreed to it. See, at Filmistan, the Head of a department was the ultimate authority. He was entitled to take all decisions regarding his team and his requirements. So I said yes, the boy had not received an increment last year either and deserved one. Rai Bahadur then asked me how much the boy was getting at the moment. I told him, Rs. 50. Immediately he issued an order to the Accounts office to increase the salary to Rs.100. So that’s how they worked. There was a good atmosphere and good relations between the bosses and us.<br /><br />At Filmistan we often used to play cricket, all of us. There was a big ground behind the studio. They were proper matches, being announced the day before. One day, Kishore Sahu was shooting for the picture Sindoor. He was a bald man and in those days we did not have very fine wigs. So I used to apply hair on his head. That day there was a cricket match scheduled for 11 and Sahu’s shoot was at 2pm. I reached the studio as usual at 8am and soon met Sahu. He asked me if I was playing in the match that day. I told him how can I when he has a shoot. He said, “Do one thing, do my make-up now and then go play your match!” It was perfect. Later I met S. Mukherjee on the pitch and he asked, “Kyon? Aaj shoot nahi hai kya?” I told him I had already finished for the day and they were all amazed. Because that hair job is intricate work. Anyway, the point is that everyone was very friendly and we were equals. On the set you have to be alert. When it is time for duty, you give it your best. But off-duty, no one will question you.<br /><br />DM: Did you have any fixed timings for work at Filmistan?<br />RT: I used to reach the studio at 8am every morning. The artistes would come by 8.30-9am and the shoot would start by 10am. If there was no shoot on any morning, we would sit, chat, play cards or make material. And there was no compulsion to stay in the studio if we had no work. We just had to inform someone that we were done with our work and would leave. There was no system of freelance at the time. Even an actor like Dilip Kumar was paid a monthly salary like us. The 15th of every month was payday and Dilip Kumar would have to stand in the line just like the rest of us! I used to get paid Rs.500 per month and my assistants would get Rs. 200 and Rs. 100 respectively. <br /><br />DM: Was the studio shooting more than one film at a time?<br />RT: Initially, for the first 4-5 films, Filmistan would shoot one film after the other was finished. Then we started double pictures with films like Shehnai (?)<br /><br />DM: Did you also have female assistants on your make-up team?<br />RT: No no. The females were in the Hair Dressing department. That was a separate job. In fact Bombay Talkies and Filmistan started the trend of having a separate Hair Department. Before that the actresses would get their maids to do their hair or everyone would just do their own hair, you know Indian style.<br /><br />DM: Wasn’t there a separate Costume Designer in those days?<br />RT: See nowadays people go about calling themselves “Costume Designer” but they just pick clothes without even reading the script! Earlier they would do a meeting with the Director, the Art Director and the Tailor Master and they would decide what costumes to give the main actors. I will show you 3 photographs of 3 actresses from today’s movies and you tell me what is different about each. They all have the same make-up, same hair, same clothes! In my time, Meena Kumari was Meena Kumari and Sadhana was Sadhana. <br /><br />DM: Do you remember women being hired in any other department?<br />RT: Only as actresses or in the Hair department. Nowhere else. Even in the Costume department we had men, tailor masters. Sometimes if they needed help they might call the Hair assistant, but no, there were no other women employed in the studio. See, I have traveled all over the world and there are ladies in other countries who do make-up, who write and even do camera. But not in India. Now they are trying, as make-up artistes. Initially our union opposed this. Why you know? Because they are not used to the odd hours.. we are prepared to work not just 4-5 hours but even 12 hours if required. New people come in and have different ideas. Also, in our Indian culture, it was not accepted for a woman to come in so much contact with men.<br /><br />DM: At the time you joined the film industry, was there a very negative view taken of the cinema world, as a disreputable place?<br />RT: No, no. I started my career in Pune and there was a very good atmosphere in the Marathi industry. In Bombay it was there. There were stories of film people drinking, smoking. And also earlier the ladies who joined films were not from good backgrounds. Durgabai Khote, Shobhana Samarth, Nalini Jaywant, they started a new trend. They were well-educated girls. <br /><br />DM: How did you prepare for a film?<br />RT: Once the script was ready and the actors were finalized, I would be briefed by the director about the story and each character. I would then discuss my ideas for each character. Mostly these discussions would be with S. Mukherjee or directors like Gyan Mukherjee, Nandlal Jaswantlal, Santoshi etc.<br /><br />DM: As far as scripts were concerned, were directors working with complete scripts before shooting started or would scenes continue to be written while production was on?<br />RT: S. Mukherjee always worked with a complete screenplay, with dialogue. There would be routine discussions on set, but everything was planned as far as possible.<br /><br />DM: Because the ‘bound script’ as a concept has only recently come back into practice in Bombay.. For the longest time it was routine practice to present actors with new scenes on set.<br />RT: Haan, we used to call it ‘daily rationing’!<br /><br />DM: Himansu Rai had a clear policy about hiring graduates, educated youngsters. Did this ethos get carried over into Filmistan as well?<br />RT: Himansu Rai was a very educated man from a high family. He got the best trained technicians, foreign technicians for his studio. In Filmistan there weren’t any special requirements as such. If you suit the character, you will be hired. (vague)<br /><br />DM: This was a time of great political turmoil and communal tension. Independence and Partition were looming. Did this atmosphere affect life at the studios?<br />RT: At the time, 42-45, I was at Rajkamal. There was nothing of the sort.<br /><br />DM: Manto writes about Filmistan being threatened with arson, around 46-47, because of the large numbers of Muslims who were employed…<br />RT: No no no. There was nothing like that. Dekho, film industry ek aisi industry hai jahaan na koi Hindu na Muslim. Sab artistes aur workers hain. <br /><br />DM: Was there any anxiety about the Partition in terms of talented people leaving for Pakistan? Of technicians, artistes etc. leaving the Bombay film industry?<br />RT: Not that I remember. In fact, so many people from the Lahore film industry came to Bombay. Also, many people who left, came back after some time.<br /><br />DM: How much did Hollywood influence work at the studios? Did you pick up techniques and trends from those movies or from American magazines?<br />RT: We used to watch the films that came and try to understand, study anything new or innovative. But that was our only source, the films. For example, there was a film with this man [Fred Astaire in Royal Wedding, 1951] who is dancing in a room and during the sequence he starts dancing on the walls and ceiling! Our sound recordist said he would figure it out. He made a model of a room, with pulleys and things, so that the character would be standing or dancing in one place but the whole background will be moving! It created the same effect but it was never picturised.<br /><br />DM: What about Hollywood magazines? Didn’t people read technical magazines for information?<br />RT: They were simply not available. Maybe some people could pick them up on their travels..<br /><br />DM: Which were the main halls in the 1940s for English film releases?<br />RT: Metro, Regal, Empire..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-45991800675753522772008-07-31T10:56:00.005+05:302008-08-04T11:04:00.518+05:30Others on Papa AjobaI have not posted anything new here for awhile, mainly because I have left Bombay. But I will renew my work with papa ajoba soon since he is not getting any younger. But in the meanwhile other people have been writing on him and I think that will add perspective on my work and on him and his work.<br /><br />A very kind lady called memsaab linked my blog to <a href="http://memsaabstory.wordpress.com/2008/07/30/a-treasure/#more-2124">her blog</a> which is also a great chronicling of Hindi Cinema from a real 'fan'. <br /><br />Here is another link to an <a href="http://www.dnaindia.com/report.asp?newsid=1152587&pageid=0">article</a> by Taran Khan for DNA, Mumbai (she is also a very accomplished researcher) did on my grand father a couple of months ago.<br /><br />One more from a <a href="http://www.ibnlive.com/news/the-man-whos-added-shine-to-stars-for-last-66-years/63981-8.html">Television</a> website<br /><br />Please feel free to let me know what other directions this project could go.Any specific questions about films, stars, studios any of you would like me to ask him?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-46346641115552281812008-01-08T00:52:00.000+05:302008-01-08T00:54:50.914+05:30Farooq Sheikh story and Photographs of Papajoba at work-Audio/Visual<embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=4005077821940838117&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-76271629914662591152008-01-08T00:17:00.001+05:302008-01-08T00:18:35.330+05:30Saif Ali Khan Story-Only Audio<embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-3611160679442115571&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-47618954023422943722008-01-07T23:39:00.000+05:302008-01-07T23:46:41.082+05:30Geva Colour-Only Audio<embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=488013430217965365&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-53561935669607642632008-01-07T22:51:00.000+05:302022-10-03T16:39:25.597+05:30Chinese Make up in Dr.Kotnis ki Amar Kahani (1946) Video<embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-2734706178238374398&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-41679263282868140792008-01-07T22:14:00.000+05:302008-01-07T23:45:52.131+05:30Papajoba in Aankhein (1969) Video<embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=4097344094498790230&hl=en" flashvars=""> </embed>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-28476267516648307652007-10-31T23:22:00.000+05:302007-11-01T00:20:17.331+05:30At work<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjNTmIDBwI/AAAAAAAAASQ/7d95rjDPIpE/s1600-h/scan0030.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjNTmIDBwI/AAAAAAAAASQ/7d95rjDPIpE/s320/scan0030.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127573912296818434" /></a><br /><br />A photo taken at Prakash studio when it was handed over to the workers to be run by <a href="http://www.vijaybhatt.net/beginning.html">Vijay Bhatt</a>. Seen in the picture is Jay Prakash Narayan.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjMf2IDBvI/AAAAAAAAASI/KD0k0-VbIlA/s1600-h/scan0035.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjMf2IDBvI/AAAAAAAAASI/KD0k0-VbIlA/s320/scan0035.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127573023238588146" /></a><br /><br />Miss Gracy, a character actor in the film Kissi Se Na Kehana<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjLDGIDBuI/AAAAAAAAASA/S46LxXeNSAM/s1600-h/scan0033.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjLDGIDBuI/AAAAAAAAASA/S46LxXeNSAM/s320/scan0033.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127571429805721314" /></a><br /><br />Character actor Samson in the film Nadiya Ke Paar in 1948.Make up by Papa ajoba.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjJv2IDBtI/AAAAAAAAAR4/Ah8k-PQRJEM/s1600-h/scan0032.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjJv2IDBtI/AAAAAAAAAR4/Ah8k-PQRJEM/s320/scan0032.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127569999581611730" /></a><br /><br />Kishore Sahu in the film Sindoor (1947) Papa ajoba hand made the wig that Kishore Sahi is wearing in this photo by hand by literally sticking each hair at a time.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjIxmIDBsI/AAAAAAAAARw/04G7tCwlIGA/s1600-h/scan0028.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjIxmIDBsI/AAAAAAAAARw/04G7tCwlIGA/s320/scan0028.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127568930134755010" /></a><br /><br />Janwar 1965<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjINmIDBrI/AAAAAAAAARo/KczgQE8d_dE/s1600-h/scan0027.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjINmIDBrI/AAAAAAAAARo/KczgQE8d_dE/s320/scan0027.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127568311659464370" /></a><br /><br />With his favorite star Shammi Kapoor on the set of Janwar<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjHVmIDBqI/AAAAAAAAARg/qa0X4U2xKMg/s1600-h/scan0026.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjHVmIDBqI/AAAAAAAAARg/qa0X4U2xKMg/s320/scan0026.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127567349586790050" /></a><br /><br />Make of the comedian Rajendranath for the film An Evening in Paris (1967)<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjFymIDBpI/AAAAAAAAARY/3kVuuOSk6L8/s1600-h/scan0025.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjFymIDBpI/AAAAAAAAARY/3kVuuOSk6L8/s320/scan0025.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127565648779740818" /></a><br /><br />Leela Chitnis in the film produced by her company called Kissi Se Na Kehana in 1942, a film on which my grad dad was an assistant.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjErWIDBoI/AAAAAAAAARQ/ceRRW5dyAHs/s1600-h/scan0023.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjErWIDBoI/AAAAAAAAARQ/ceRRW5dyAHs/s320/scan0023.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127564424714061442" /></a><br /><br />Character actor Shukla from the film Kissi Se Na Kehna (1942) done by Papa Ajoba when he was an assistant make artist.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjENWIDBnI/AAAAAAAAARI/TdYYaGvDWgU/s1600-h/scan0022.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RyjENWIDBnI/AAAAAAAAARI/TdYYaGvDWgU/s320/scan0022.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127563909317985906" /></a><br /><br />Lacquering Rajashree ( V. Shantaram's daughter) on the sets of the 1965 film Janwar.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-51798527940765966572007-10-31T18:14:00.000+05:302012-08-03T16:01:46.308+05:30Post No 7: Some Photos from My Mother's Wedding Album<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/Ryh7f2IDBjI/AAAAAAAAAQo/paD9Z9gUI3c/s1600-h/scan0223.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127483962796738098" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/Ryh7f2IDBjI/AAAAAAAAAQo/paD9Z9gUI3c/s320/scan0223.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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Saira Banu with my aunt and my grandmother<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/Ryh6vWIDBhI/AAAAAAAAAQY/GtZi_np3cjQ/s1600-h/scan0226.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127483129573082642" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/Ryh6vWIDBhI/AAAAAAAAAQY/GtZi_np3cjQ/s320/scan0226.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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Sadhana eating icecream.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/Ryh6HmIDBgI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/9pVqOqs-nsM/s1600-h/scan0225.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127482446673282562" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/Ryh6HmIDBgI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/9pVqOqs-nsM/s320/scan0225.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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From right to left: Shobhana Samrath, Nalini Jaywant both of them are my grand mother's cousin sisters, my grand mother, Shobhana Samarth's mother, Tanuja's sister Chatura,Tanuja, my mother & father.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/Ryh5X2IDBfI/AAAAAAAAAQI/Yc1uUTsUYDk/s1600-h/scan0222.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127481626334529010" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/Ryh5X2IDBfI/AAAAAAAAAQI/Yc1uUTsUYDk/s320/scan0222.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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Asha Parekh with her mother (Right) and my grandmother at my mother's weddingUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-60817190249303728972007-10-30T11:49:00.001+05:302012-08-03T16:30:03.385+05:30Post No 6: sadhana cut<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RymILmIDB1I/AAAAAAAAASs/ysSfJxDie7U/s1600-h/scan0221.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127779383532259154" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RymILmIDB1I/AAAAAAAAASs/ysSfJxDie7U/s320/scan0221.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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Sadhana Cut<br />
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“Do you know that even today little girls go to beauty parlors and ask to get a ‘Sadhana Cut’, if they want a fringe on their foreheads?” says the charming Sadhana when I go to meet her with Papaajoba in her very seventies looking Bungalow at Santacruz in Bombay. She continues, “You know I have a very big forehead and before I did my first film with S.Mukherjee, Nayyar Sahab (<a href="http://r.k.nayyar/">R.K.Nayyar</a> who she later married) and I were great fans of Audrey Hepburn so we decided that I would have a fringe like her to hide my forehead. That time nobody in India had a fringe. So we went to a Chinese hairdresser and got it cut. So that’s how the Sadhana Cut came in to fashion.”<br />
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In 1960 she did her first film called <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0318405/" target="_blank">Love In Simla</a> but she says her first film was, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0055276/" target="_blank">‘Parakh’</a>, where she was playing a ‘gao ki ladki’ so R.K. Nayyar advised her that they should release Love In Simla before so when Parakh released she says, “all the people were very impressed because they felt that this girl can do glamorous as well as gao ke roles.”<br />
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While she and my grand dad talk I sense a great camaraderie. But the power dynamics between a star and a technician are obvious. My grand dad refers to her as Sadhan-<i>ji </i>and she lovingly calls him ‘Dada’. They both are sitting down sipping their drinks, she drinks vodka and he is drinking whiskey. She is also constantly chewing some sort of gum. I am afraid to ask but my grand father brusquely asks her why she is eating so much chewing gum. She pauses and replies in her husky voice, “Dada maine bahut salon se cigarette chod di hai, toh yeh uske liye hai”.<br />
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I continue to ask her about what the advent of the colour film meant to her. She says she was doing two films at the time one was <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0232960/" target="_blank">Who Kaun Thi</a> (released in 1964) and<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0266765/" target="_blank"> Mere Mehboob </a>(released 1963). She says, “we were all very thrilled that we would be seen in colour and everyone of us wanted to look good in the colour and I was bit hesitant then to do a black and white film after that. My grand dad did her make up in both films. She says that make up was a little too white, even pink at times.<br />
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My grand dad interjects and explains why it had to be slightly white or pink; he gives the example of their trials with the film <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0048410/fullcredits" target="_blank">Nagin</a>. He continues to tell his stories, many of which I have heard over the last several months. In fact I will not be wrong in saying that he hardly lets Sadhana talk. I am irritated at first, thinking it’s the whiskey but slowly through the course of the interview I realise what he said to me at the beginning of this project, “I don’t want to be an also ran,”. I also realize that maybe for the first time he is centre of attention in front of her. This project is about him, she has to merely add to the stories, not be the focus. It’s also the first time she realises that he knows a lot more technically and his memory is far better than hers, he is 85 and she is about 69.<br />
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“You know in Around the World 8 Dollars, a film I did with Raj Kapoor, I remember him telling me that my make up was too white while his face had a nicely tanned look. You know though when colour became popular everybody thought everything in the film should be colourful. There was so much colour that it would hit the eye. They would put a girl in a pink dress in front of a pink wall! It took them a little time to get used to colour film but they were learning slowly but the idea was that, agar color film hai toh there must be a lot of colours in it.”<br />
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We are interrupted by a plateful of kebabs which she abstains from eating as she is watching her weight. She continues, “Colour film was bloody expensive therefore sometimes they would only have one song in colour and they used to have only about 20-30 prints of a film for the state of Maharashtra." Papaajoba continues by telling Sadhana that, “at that time there were no baby or dinky lights, so the artist's skin used to burn. She takes it from there saying, “There were no air conditioned studios also.”<br />
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“You know during <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0059893/" target="_blank">Waqt</a>, this was soon after Mere Mehboob I had discussion with the dress designer and said what is this? We actresses have only two choices when it comes to clothes, either we wear saris or salwars. Why don’t we try churidars? But my designer said no it’s a Muslim dress. So I told her let’s do a fusion, a churidar and a kurta with embroidery here,” she points to her bust line. She continues, “I told Yash (Chopra) I am supposed to be a young ladki so why can’t I wear a churidar? He said, ‘meri picture mei nahin chalega’. Anyway I got the tight churidar made with a tight kurti on top with embroidery and wore mojris and showed it to him. To that he said, ‘wow that looks fantastic!’”.<br />
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Sadhana clearly was a trendsetter after the Sadhana Cut and churidars she says she sparked off another fashion trend, the mojris. She points to her foot and says, “see look at this finger of mine, it is smaller than the rest and I have ugly feet. I was very conscious of my feet so to cover them I started wearing mojris. There is one more reason I had to wear them, see I am 5 feet 6 inches tall, then the Buffon added a little more to my height and then if I wore heels I would be 5 feet 10 inches tall and you know most of our heroes are short. Once Raj Kapoor was given a stool to stand on, it was for a film called <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0058045/fullcredits#cast" target="_blank">Dulha Dulhan</a>, it was a very bad film. You know but when you wear Mojris your walk is very different than when you wear heels. In those days the shoe shop, Metro, in Colaba used make special mojris for me and the owner once gave an interview to the press and told them that I had a little crooked finger. But do you know Waheeda has crooked fingers on both her feet?"<br />
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By now she is on her third vodka and I have finished off my grand dad’s left over whiskey, so we are all nicely warmed up. So I venture to ask her about the casting couch in those days? Sadhana says, “those were innocent days, today of course there is a casting couch. Those days you fell in love, sometimes with a married man even, but you got married to him.” I was hoping to hear a little more gossip than that. A little more prodding perhaps so I ask her who her favorite male co-stars were? She says, “Oh! I was very comfortable with Rajender Kumar and Shammi Kapoor. They were the nicest two guys in the industry and I really enjoyed working with them. But can I tell you this? But please don’t write this, Shammi had a real reputation so I was really scared to work with him in Rajkumar so at first I kept my distance. But then I realised what a wonderful person he was. One day Shammi told me, " Sadhana you are not my cup of tea and there are two women in the industry who are like a Frigidaire, you and Saira," but I turned round to him and said , Shammi I think you are not my cup of tea." She tells me a couple of more stories but I must keep my promise to her by not putting it on record.<br />
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I ask her about star rivalry in those days and she very calmly replies, “See it was very simple if you wanted a pretty looking girl for your film, they would cast Saira, if they wanted a good dancer then it would be Asha (Parekh) and of you wanted an actress then you chose Sadhana. I was very punctual; I would be ready with my make up sharp at 9.30 a.m. in the morning. For the shooting of <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314557/fullcredits#cast" target="_blank">Rajkumar </a>we were staying nearly two hours away from the location so we would wake up at 2 a.m. every night get ready with make up and costume by 4.30 a.m. and reach the location at 7 a.m. sharp and that time we didn’t have air conditioned vanity vans like today. So a lot of times we had to use the jungle as the loo. Nowadays they shoot in Switzerland and Australia.”<br />
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There are stories that I have grown up hearing of how Sadhana would come and pick up my grand dad in her Buick and that was probably the only Buick in town. To that she says, “Oh! Yes everyone knew that was my car.” I had also heard this story where my brother accompanied my grand father on a shoot in Lonavala with Sadhana and it was her birthday and my brother was told to wish her but he refused and said like any three year old would, “it cannot be a birthday until there is no birthday cake.” On that comment Sadhana sent her driver all the way from Lonalava to Bombay to buy a birthday cake just for my brother. Sadhana doesn’t remember this story and many others that my granddad tells her. I guess it is just that some stories the stars will never remember or maybe that my grand dad has a superb memory. <br />
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This evening though is about the star so it ends with her telling us about her crazy fans who would stand outside her bungalow for hours and , “once there was a mad fan who would throw gifts into my compound, he would throw watches, radios” says Sadhana. But as we leave her bungalow, located in a dark lane, nobody stands outside it, it is quiet and lonely, papaajoba and I get into a rickshaw and leave.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-42212724494290178072007-10-19T14:54:00.001+05:302009-02-03T00:07:16.398+05:30Govinda ala reIt is the 4th of September and me and papaajoba are standing in his house and watching young men from the various 'mandals' trying to break the dahi handi that is tied outside the building. The din of various Govinda Ala re songs fill up the air. I remember that one of the most famous songs is picturised on Shammi Kapoor. Papaaajoba goes on to tell me that it was one of the first Janmashtami song and that it was shot in a lane in Girgaum in Bombay, the same lane the director of the film Manmohan Desai lived in. He also goes on to tell me how on that day of the shoot even though Shammi Kapoor didn't need any make up he had gone to the location just to part of the fun. Here's the <a href="http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=RtQabieLxwA">song</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-87619876377096097062007-08-13T14:39:00.000+05:302007-08-13T15:09:09.551+05:30Rajkumar<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RsAiDDw9oRI/AAAAAAAAAPw/bIYkDrJdPKo/s1600-h/30.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RsAiDDw9oRI/AAAAAAAAAPw/bIYkDrJdPKo/s320/30.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098112214129025298" /></a><br />This photo is taken during the film <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314557/">Rajkumar</a> and this was on the day they were shooting the song "Aaja aayi bahar...". The song required small boats to float around rhythmically. In this photo the director K.Shankar (extreme right with the round hat), Shammi Kapoor and my grand dad (in all white with the sun glasses extreme left) are helping steer these boats.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-18664283601051956592007-08-13T14:04:00.000+05:302007-08-13T15:07:03.815+05:30Vat 69<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RsAd-jw9oQI/AAAAAAAAAPo/QmmBv9-cxeI/s1600-h/8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RsAd-jw9oQI/AAAAAAAAAPo/QmmBv9-cxeI/s320/8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098107738773102850" /></a><br />On holiday with friends at Daman during prohibition days.<br /> <br />I had heard of VAT 69 but was not quite sure of what it was, so I decide to ask my grand father. He replies impishly ," its a costly whisky". <br />This photo was taken when he and his friends were on holiday at Daman.Due to prohibition in Bombay they used to have to go to Daman which was still under the rule of the Portuguese for a "boys night out".They also came back with several bottles of perfume called <a href="http://www.auntjudysattic.com/Evening_In_Paris.htm">Evening In Paris</a>. He said the perfume was duty free in Daman and cost about Re. 1.50/- versus Rs.60 in Bombay. Incidentally about a decade later Papa ajoba was the make up man on a film with a similar name, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0074503/">An Evening In Paris</a>, starring Shammi Kapoor and Sharmila Tagore.<br />In this photo my grand father is on the extreme right and then <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1265000/">Jagtap Dada</a>- Chief recordist for Filistan, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0665552/">Mr. Pathak</a>- Also a sound recordist for films like Bees Saal Baad, Sholay.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-21936205640010949152007-08-13T14:00:00.000+05:302007-08-13T14:04:26.652+05:30more photos<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RsAXZzw9oPI/AAAAAAAAAPg/YXDez00P-nQ/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RsAXZzw9oPI/AAAAAAAAAPg/YXDez00P-nQ/s320/2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098100510343143666" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-78750450082863605352007-07-28T13:32:00.000+05:302007-07-28T15:03:31.064+05:30Post 5<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RqsJkzw9oOI/AAAAAAAAAPU/4_qNCm4op8E/s1600-h/leichner.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/RqsJkzw9oOI/AAAAAAAAAPU/4_qNCm4op8E/s320/leichner.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092174331647992034" /></a><br />Papa Ajoba’s recipe for colours:<br /><br />Around 1942-43 when Papa ajoba joined Raj Kamal they used to make their own make up. Described below are the materials and the process by which they created colours & powders.<br /><br />Coloured Foundation: We used to mix coloured powder that was used for painting houses with petroleum jelly in a doctor’s mixing plate with a knife that was flexible. Then we took zinc powder and mixed it with the coloured powders. After making the colour we would boil it, then strain it with cloth, then fill it in containers, so we had: whites, blue, blacks. These were the lining or the base colours.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.pg.com/company/who_we_are/max_factor_history.jhtml">Max Factor</a> came to India around 1939 or 1940. Before that there was only one German Company called <a href="http://www.fulltable.com/vts/m/mk/l.htm">Leichner</a>. We used to get sticks of colour from them but it was really hard. So used to take a little from the stick on our hands and then ‘pat on that make up’.<br /><br />Max factor was expensive and our lining colours were better. Max Factor had tubes that were numbered. 21 to 31 for the Indian skin, ladies used numbers 27, 28, 29 and for the gents we used 30, 31.<br /><br />Right at the start around 1904 in theatre they used use powders and water and we used to call it water painting. They used to use this water paint on their hands and face. Therefore the theatrical white make up in early theatre and also early cinema. For.e.g. in Phalke; films the faces look white. This was also because in early days the lights, both in theatre and cinema were not so powerful and the bright white faces caught the light better.<br /><br />At a point in time grease used to be mixed with coloured powders or paint. But big theatre stars like Bal Gandharva used ‘loni’ i.e. homemade butter to mix the colours instead of grease.<br /><br />Coloured Powders: The coloured powders were made of French chalk which is white in colour. You had to grind the French chalk and make sure that there were no solid particles and the powder had to be soft. Then to that powder we would add whatever colour that we wanted.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-706339090519347502007-07-28T13:09:00.000+05:302012-08-03T16:47:03.890+05:30Post No. 4<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/Rqr30Dw9oNI/AAAAAAAAAPM/Man8y5hoMPM/s1600-h/14.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092154802431697106" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lIiEPEfzA-0/Rqr30Dw9oNI/AAAAAAAAAPM/Man8y5hoMPM/s320/14.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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Brief background of Geva Colour as Papa Ajoba explained it:<br />
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Technicolour means it is made up of three colour negatives instead of two in black and white. Ambalal Patel of Film Centre in 1950 brings the agency of Geva colour to India. But the film was very thin and had a yellow tinge. The film needed lots of 5KW & 10 KW lights. If while shooting a 1% shadow was registered after exposing the film it would show up as a 10 % shadow so to avoid shadows people would use very bright lights. In 1950 & 1951 they started taking the Geva Colour tests. They realized that due to the bright lights the artist’s skin started burning and they needed to keep an ice box on the set and use Chamois leather. In order to test a Long Shot on Geva colour they went all the way to Prabhat studio in Pune as the studio had many lights as well as generators. They also shot an outdoor close up in Pune and Papa Ajoba seems to suggest that the outdoor light in Pune is stronger than the light in Bombay.<br />
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Nandlal Jaswantlal’s film Nagin was shot partly in Geva colour. Over 2 to 3 years the Geva film started improving.<br />
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<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0898983/">Jimmy Vinning</a>, the expert:<br />
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An all British crew was shooting a film called Bombay Flight 470. The crew was also testing the colour film. Mukherjee Saheb told papa ajoba to be an assistant to Jimmy Vinnig who was a leading make up artist. Papa Ajoba was introduced to J.V. and they exchanged pleasantries. But when Jimmy started his make up he said to papa ajoba, “Mr.Tipnis I don’t allow anyone in my make up room”. Papa ajoba left the make room and went and sat in the park. In the meantime Mr.Mubarak, the actor shows up and asks Papa Ajoba, “why are you sitting outside?” Papa ajoba narrates the incident to him and Mubarak says to him, “you come with me and I will see how he’s not letting you in.” He then goes and confronts Jimmy and Jimmy admits to have told my grand father to leave. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0610799/">Mubarak</a> then says, “Mr. Vinnig, Tipnis has done 4 films in Geva colour and the results are better than yours in the film Mayurpankh. Papa Ajoba concludes this story by saying that “Jimmy Vinning apologized to me and after that Geva was widely used”.<br />
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The make man and the Camera man:<br />
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Papa Ajoba says that the best judge of the make up is the Cameraman (he insists on calling the director of photography as we know them today as cameramen). He says, “If anything went wrong they ( the cameramen) would guide us. The guidance by a good cameraman is essential for the make up man”. Some of the name he takes are <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0228624/">Dwarka Divecha</a> who was the cameraman for films like Sholay. Then he worked closely with<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0592991/"> Fali Mistry</a> and Jal Mistry, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0439731/">Radhu Karmarkar</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0802118/">G.Singh</a>. He also worked in close association with <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1343556/">N.V.Srinivas</a> who was the cameraman on most of the Subodh Mukherjee films.<br />
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I have continued transcribing and here I continue from where I left off. He starts off by talking about Junglee and deviates to talking about coming of colour with a reference to the film Nagin. I look up the films in encyclopedia of Indian Cinema for technical notes. It reveals that the 50’s from Jhansi Ki Rani in 1953 right upto Junglee (1961) was very important for the consolidation the color film. Incidentally papa ajoba talks about this decade by chance.<br />
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AG: You were telling me about Junglee?<br />
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PA: han, yes Junglee I haven’t done it. You know what happened in Kishore Sahu’s Company I had kept Dinoo Indulkar and Ram Patrivar. So after a few years that company shut down. So Dinoo came to me so then I took him on at Filmistan, that time we had done Nagin picture partly in color.<br />
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AG: what do you mean partly in color?<br />
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PA: Partly means half, the last part almost was in color. But before that we had taken many trials in color, with color. In the year 1950 (pause) ummm…that…ummm whose that…ummm he had a laboratory ummm Film centre, the man who owned film centre. I forgot his name he was big man. So he himself used to bring that Geva color film to Filmistan and we had done trials with that. That Geva colour was so slow that we needed lots of light 5 K and 10 K as there were no other lights and the actor used to be very troubled because his skin would burn. So we used to keep an ice box on the set and keep pieces of Chamois leather…means Camel’s skin. But now days you get artificial also, with that we used to soothe the artist’s skin.<br />
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AG: This was in 1950?<br />
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PA: 50’s<br />
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AG: Color?<br />
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P.A: When color first came. There was Ambalal Patel, Ambalal Patel of Film Centre, he himself used to come with the film.<br />
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AG: Of Film Centre? He developed and brought it?<br />
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PA: Yes, he had taken the contract. The Geva agency was with him. It used to be very slow but then gradually after processing it became okay. I will tell you a story about the film Nagin.<br />
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AG: But wait please tell me about what changes had to be made in the make up styles due to the coming of color.<br />
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PA: That’s what I am telling you. So when we were taking a test for the film, there was an English cameraman called Chinn.<br />
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AG: <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0147034/">Chinn</a>?<br />
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PA: Ya. Chinn. He was one of the cameramen for the film Treasure Island. You know they have different cameramen for different units, so he was the one who told me, “ Mr. Tipnis…”<br />
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AG: So he was the cameraman for Nagin?<br />
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PA: No! the company brought him.<br />
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AG: for what?<br />
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PA: For colour. But he did not do any picture. Nagin picture he did…ummm..who is that cameraman?<br />
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AG: Fali Mistry<br />
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PA: Fali Mistry Saheb had done it. Chin told me to make the make up lighter, on the lighter side. So do it like this…like that…(makes gestures with his hand ,as of he is painting) So I did it like that. But because the film was so slow the artist used to get troubled so the shooting did not happen. But later then Nagin became partly in colour and then film became much better.<br />
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AG: Fast?<br />
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PA: They did some procedure so when the first trial was done for Nagin on Vajantimala with the sets and all with colour. We saw it the next day and it had a lot of yellow in it. So Mukherjee Saheb said lets change the make up and bring that bring Jimmy Vining, so we will called him. And because I really wanted to learn, I said okay no problem, let’s call him. On the 3rd day what happened, Fali Saheb came to me and said, ‘ Tipnis we will do one more trial with Vaijanthiji. But I told him, “ but Fali Saheb, Mukherjee Saheb has said we have to call Jimmy Vining.” So Fali Saheb said to me, “ no no need, it is not your fault”. See the greatness of such a big cameraman. “its not your fault, its my fault.” Fali Saheb continued, “I took a little piece of film and went and developed, printed and corrected it. The make up you had done yesterday was correct. Let anybody say anything, don’t listen to them just listen to me.<br />
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AG: But what had gone wrong?<br />
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PA: Wait, I will tell you. You know what had happened there was a lot of yellow in that Geva colour. I had done it right so then Fali Saheb had put filters and all that and reduced it. Therefore then later we used to do pink makeup.<br />
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AG: why?<br />
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PA: To kill the yellow because the effect yellow on pink is not that much. That‘s why we had started pink make up. But then slowly Geva Colour went and Eastman came, so now days they can do natural make up.<br />
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PA: Junglee film was produced by Subodh Mukherjee. Should I speak in Hindi all the time? So then my own man Dinoo Indulkar who was working with me then, first I had kept him at Sahu Saheb’s company. But when Sahu saheb’s company shut down then he worked with me. So I kept him at Subodh Mukherjee’s because he had asked me, “tipnis give me a good man like you.” So Dinoo who was unemployed I put him there so that film was done by him.<br />
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* In 1933 Prabhat’s Sairandhri was processed and printed in Germany. So it is the first colour film seen in India.<br />
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* Kisan Kanya – 1st color film by Gidwani (1937) was India’s first indigenously manufactured colour film. After that Ardheshir Irani of Imperial had bought rights to the Cinecolour process and set up a colour lab. <br />
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While experiments in color might have continued but as we all know that India’s first Technicolour film was Jhansi Ki Rani, by Sohrab Modi (1953)<br />
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Then the next major color film was Mayurpankh 1954 directed by Kishore Sahu.<br />
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Nagin follows in 1954 directed by Nandlal Jaswantlal produced by Filmistan. Papa ajoba was a part of process of understanding the advent of the color film. <br />
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Hatim Tai by the Wadias in 1956 is in Colour.<br />
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Mehboob Khan’s Mother India in 1957 is a remake of Mehboob’s 1940 film Aurat. The use of colour impacts the images created drastically.<br />
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Pardesi – 1957. In hindi &Russian directed by K.A. Abbas.<br />
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Tumsa Nahin Dekha 1957, Nasser Hussain’s directorial debut, produced by Filmistan and starring Shammi Kapoor and Amita is partky shot is colour.<br />
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Chaudhavi Ka Chand in 1960 partially shot in colour.<br />
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In 1961 comes Junglee starring Saira Banu and Shammi Kapoor. It ran for 52 weeks all over India.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332305545549064834.post-71349237065372607722007-05-15T13:53:00.000+05:302007-05-15T14:14:03.773+05:30Post 3<span style="font-style:italic;">This month’s post is a part of the interview transcript. There is a lot more to the tape but I have sort of presented just a snippet here. AG are my initials and sometimes I refer to my grand father as PA (Papa Ajoba) or then RT (his name Ram Tipnis). He speaks mostly in Marathi and so while translating it I have tried to retain the flavor of his speech, so some sentences seem oddly constructed in English. <br /><br />Also please scroll down to the older post, there are some old pictures on location.<br /></span><br /><br />AG: Papa Ajo how did you first meet Shammi Kapoor?<br /><br />RT: You know what happened that time, a film called Aanand Math was on and there was a sequence where Papa Prithviraj ji, who is everybody’s guru in the film, is riding on the horse for propaganda. So then there was a shot where he had to ride on an elephant through the forest. So then that time we… you know today’s Jija Matoshree Garden, in the old days it was called Ranicha Baug. So we decided to shoot there… he was to sit on the elephant and all. So then Papaji told me that, “Dada now we have to come to Goregon for make up and then we will have to go to Parel, instead of that why don’t you come to my house? I live in Parsi Colony.” So I said okay, then I took all my material and went to his house the next day. We were shooting in the Rani Cha Baug for two days. On the first day I did my make up and I left. Then after the pack up, I came home. On the second day I was doing the make up, so that time his lanky son came and said, “Papaji”<br /><br />AG: Talk in Hindi no.<br /><br />(He hesitates)<br /><br />RT: (Papaji mein wahan Aspi Irani ki yahan test ke liye jaa raha hoon) I am going to Aspi Irani’s for a test. So I need your blessings. So papaji, as usual gave him his blessings and then said to him, “that look Shammi, you know this man’s dad, he is also an good artist… he is a drama artist…; stage artist”<br /><br />AG: (interrupts) did he know your father?<br /><br />RT: (Ignores me and continues) … he is an artist, he knows of my father Madhavrao Tipnis and that time in Mumbai one contractor had put up 2 shows of “Agrahoon Sutka” (Shivaji’s Escape from Agra) so Papaji had seen one show.<br /><br />AG: Were you acting in it?<br /><br />RT: My father was acting in the play as Shivaji.<br /><br />AG: Which year was this?<br /><br />RT: That only... 49 or 50 at Shreerang theatre.<br /><br />AG: Agra hoon Sutka?<br /><br />RT: Agrahoon Sutka! So he had seen it. So that time once he suggested, “I want to meet your father Tipnisji”. So I said, “Okay” … So then…<br /><br />AG: Which year was this Agrahun Sutka?<br /><br />RT: 49, 50.<br /><br />AG: 49?<br /><br />RT: Must be 50, ‘So in that Agrahun Sutka I want to play Aurangzeb and your father will play Shivaji, so tell him that we will do a play like that,’ said Papaji to me. So I organized for them to meet.<br /><br />AG: So then what happened when they met?<br /><br />RT: Later that contractor who was to organize the play did not do anything.<br /><br />AG: Why?<br /><br />RT: He just didn’t do anything… there must be something.<br /><br />RT: So then Shammi Kapoor Saheb had come, he took blessings from Papaji and then Papaji introduced us, so he touched my feet also and then he left. After that, I saw one thing in Papaji, the two days that I went there, to his house, I saw on both days on both sides of the staircase, there used to be people sitting. Papaji helped them so much.<br /><br />AG: People? Which people?<br /><br />RT: Poor people, needy people and then…<br /><br />Ag: In need of money or acting parts?<br /><br />(He ignores me and continues)<br /><br />RT: Listen! Then papaji would ask them” I had given you a letter did you get the job?” “What happened with you? And you? Did your child get medicines?” He would continue asking the people till the end of the stairs. So I asked him, “papaji forgive me but how do you remember all of this?”, so he said, “Nothing Tipnisji, if we help someone, you remember who needs what help… so according to that” That’s the big thing about Papaji, he helped the poor people a lot.<br /><br />AG: But tell a little more about when Papaji met my great grandfather.<br /><br />PA: No, no nothing much, they talked a bit, I was not with them but there was Morey Dada who was a make up master who used to work with Papaji in Prithvi Theatre also.<br /><br />AG: Morey make up master.<br /><br />PA: Yes, Morey Dada he was in Bhau’s (my great grand father) Maharashtra Natak Mandali (silence) and he was a good astrologer.<br /><br />AG: So he worked in our company as well as theirs?<br /><br />PA: huh? He was… he was.<br /><br />AG: He was in Maharashtra theatre company also and Prithvi Theatre also.<br /><br />PA: Later, when Prithvi Theatre started, he worked there.<br /><br />AG: But Prithvi theatre started more recently.<br /><br />PA: Ya exactly, so that time he told Papaji, you do this… that and then he specified an auspicious time. That’s why the first few plays that took place in Prithvi Theatre … plays like Shakuntala and for all those plays Morey dada was the make-up man.<br /><br />Then after that we shot there for two days , then after that I met Shammi Kapoor in Xavier’s college, there was a variety program. (Changes to Hindi) So the college people had called me there for make up. So I went. So there was a skit called Bhoot.,.. Bhoot … It was called Bhoot. It was being done by Shammi Kapoor and Rajendra Nath… the comedian. Understood? So then Shammi Kapoor told me “Arre Dada aap toh mujhe Papaji ke saath ghar main mile the”, I said “Haan sahib mila tha main aapko” Toh oos time se pehchaan thi. After that Shammi kapoor Sahib and I met directly at Filmistan. Filmistan…<br /><br />AG: Rajender Kumar or Rajender Nath?<br /><br />PA: Rajendra Nath… comedian. In Filmistan a film was being made called Hum Sab Chor Hai so in that I.S.Johar was the director and actor and with him there was Majnoo, both of them were comedians and Nalini Jaywant was the heroine and Shammi Saheb was the hero… so that time I met him again for the second time … during Hum Sab Chor Hai.<br /><br />AG: Was that his first fillm?<br /><br />PA: No he had done about 5-6 films before that.<br /><br />AG: So what did you think of him when you saw his first few films? Did you think that, “hey, I know this guy”<br /><br />PA: Ya, but what was the big deal? I knew all the actors. All the people were known to me. So that was the first film Shammiji did with Filmistan. The second was Tumsa Nahin Dekha…<br /><br />AG: That was hit no?<br /><br />PA: Oh that! That was a super duper hit.<br /><br />AG: So you had done the make-up in Hum Sab Chor Hain?<br /><br />PA: Ha, ya… Hum Sab Chor Hain, Tumsa Nahin Dekha, understood? It was a hit film. Amita and Shammi Kapoor and it was Nasser Hussain’s first film as a director.<br /><br />AG: Tumsa Nahin Dekha?<br /><br />PA: Tumsa Nahin Dekha was a hit. Amita was the heroine she was also beautiful, I worked with her also. Prakash’s film Goonj Uthi Shehnayi, she and Rajender Kumar, I was the makeup artist for that one, it was a black and white film and Filmistan…<br /><br />AG: Was this a Filmistan film?<br /><br />PA: No… Goonj Uthi was Prakash’s … Prakash film Company the ones that made Ram Rajya and Vijay Bhatt, a very big producer and director, the owner of Prakash Studio and he was a very good man and I think his son is a camera man and his grandson is a director, that Bhatt. So that’s when I shot with Amita in Mahableshwar, Panchgani for Goonj Uthi Shenai so I did that and that’s when I met Rajender Kumar and then I met Rajender Kumar again…<br /><br />AG: Rajendra Kumar?<br /><br />PA: Yes, Kumar, Kumar the hero, the ones they call Silver Jubilee hero… all the films he did were Silver Jubilee hits. So when Mere Mehboob in colour started around 1961 I met him then that time I used to go there for Sadhana’s make up.<br /><br />AG: Wait wait we were talking about Shammi Kapoor<br /><br />PA: Ok.<br /><br />AG: So then what happened after that? What happened after Tumsa Nahin Dekha?<br /><br />PA: After Tumsa Nahin Dekha … he slipped out and he became a hit… then afterwards…<br /><br />AG: Dil Deke Dekho?<br /><br />PA: That was later he acted in a few Filmalaya films. Then he acted in Subodh Mukherjee’s Junglee. There, the make up man was an old assistant of mine, Dinu Indulkar, he was an assistant somewhere else. But in 1949 Kishore Sahu started his own company and Kishore Sahu and I had very good relations, because of a film of his called Sindoor was a produced at Filmistan and I did the make up for that and that time the wigs, the wigs that one wears on the head were not there. So then Sahusaheb said “Kya karne ka?” So I said, “Nothing I will apply the hair”, So he said “Yes?” Then I put hair and showed him.<br /><br />AG: How did you put the hair?<br /><br />PA: We have a method! (Irritated)<br /><br />AG: What is the method?<br /><br />PA: With spirit gum, that method has no name.<br /><br />AG: But what did you apply that on?<br /><br />PA: You apply spirit gum to the forehead… forehead and you take patches of hair and stick them on. Its good work, rather delicate and he had liked it and that time I was acting in plays and also painting. Sahu Saheb himself was a very good painter that’s why he and I used to gel along after I put the hair he was very happy with me.<br /><br />AG: For which films?<br /><br />PA: Sindoor, It was a Silver Jubilee film.<br /><br />AG: Which year?<br /><br />PA: I don’t remember the year.<br /><br />AG: But Filmistan?<br /><br />PA: Filmistan. And what happened with Sahu Saheb was that he had a very good opinion of me. There was another reason for this, Shobhana Bai Samarth, she is my wife’s cousin sister. When he got to know that, I rose in his eyes. Then later when Sahu saheb started his own company he said “Tipnis you will never leave Filmistan as you have a good salary and status there so you come and do my make up and go and then keep some juniors over here, that’s when I called Dinu Indulkar, at that time when he was staying with someone at Kamathipura”.<br /><br />AG: At Kamathipura?<br /><br />PA: Dinu knew someone and he was not married then. So I put him onto Sahu Saheb and then there was another boy called Ram Patrivar, who was also an assistant there.<br /><br />AG: What was that company called?<br /><br />PA: I don’t remember but the picture was Rim Zim. Sahu Saheb and Ramola, a famous actress from Punjab was acting in that film. I would go there put the hair and come. Then later, one day when I had gone to Shobana Samarth’s house, she had just returned from America. So then she had bought a wig, gents, it was for Moti Lal because Moti Lal had given her the measurement or something. So she showed it to me, she said it’s a gents wig, we don’t get this here. I told this to Sahu Saheb, while Rim Zim was going on. I said to him that you have good relations with Shobana, you take the measurement for your wig and send it. According to that we sent it. While Rim Zim was half way through, the wig arrived. So then we started putting that wig for him. <br /><br />AG: You were saying about the wig on a thin net or something.<br /><br />PA: In the old days we didn’t get a nicely finished wig for men. There is something called the fine net so that wigs are made on that and when stuck in the front so one cant see it because it is so fine. This net we saw there for the first time. Then there was a make up man called Jimmy Vining<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0898983/"></a>, from England for Jhansi Ki Rani and Zanak Zanak Payal Baje with V. Shantaram that was a color film, for that. So he had brought it.<br /><br />AG: The wig?<br /><br />PA: The net! So we had seen it. Then later a wigman from Calcutta had come to me and said, “I like this, I am a wigman and he used to do good work, his name was Rashid, because in Calcutta there is a wigman called, Abdul Bari, he has 5-6 shops in one line all wig shops. But he didn’t know about that fine net wig. So we looked all over Bombay for fine nets and we found it and gave it to Rashid.<br /><br />Then he made a wig for Kishore Shau and seeing that wig our S. Mukherjee, Filmistan’s managing director and he was a big producer, he asked “Sahu Saheb did you bring this wig from foreign?” He replied saying “no no you know, that wig man from your company, he made it.” So Mukherjee Saheb called me to the office and asked me who our company’s wig man was? I said I have someone and then I introduced Rashid to him and he was really good, he used to make good wigs and beards so quickly, that don’t ask. Then after he left our company he went to Chennai… and he was with Shivaji Ganeshan’s company. There he showed the people the technique of fine nets and then there also fine net wigs started being used.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1