Conversations with Waheeda Rehman Read Online Free Page A

can get by. You don’t easily forget what you learn in your childhood.
    NMK: What is your earliest memory?
    WR: I have many. But one that stands out?
    I must have been about four or five years old. My father was posted to Palghat, which is now called Palakkad. It’s in Kerala. During the Onam festival we went to the Palghat Fort to watch the procession of decorated elephants. We stood on the parapet and my father lifted me high in his arms so I could see the elephants through the opening in the fort wall. The image of those beautifully adorned elephants is still clear in my mind.
    Like a fool I told my father that I wanted to own an elephant. He said: ‘Darling, it’s not possible. An elephant is a big animal; you can’t keep an elephant as a pet.’ ‘What about a baby elephant?’ He patiently explained that the baby elephant would grow up into a big elephant.
    I remember another occasion—in Nagapattinam in Tamil Nadu, a mahout would ride his elephant through our neighbourhood and stop at each house. When they came to our place, we would give the elephant a coconut. It was very smart and would crush the coconut and scoop up the white coconut flesh with its trunk. Animals and birds have fascinated me from a young age.
    NMK: Was going to the movies part of your growing-up years?
    WR: We saw many films. My parents were fond of music and also enjoyed going to concerts and dance recitals.
    Hindi films played in the south a few months after their release, and I believe the first film I saw was
Zeenat
with Noorjehan and Yakub. I must have been about eight years old. How we cried when one of the heroes died! My mother tried consoling us: ‘This is all make-believe. He didn’t really die.’ But we continued wailing in the cinema hall. She tried desperately to quieten us down because everyone was staring at us. She was very embarrassed.
    I saw
Barsaat
and
Dastan
when I was about ten. And there was this film with Dev and Madhubala. I don’t remember the title. It had a lovely song in it: ‘Mehfil mein jal uthi shama parwaane ke liye’.
    NMK: It’s a song from
Nirala
, a 1950 movie.
    WR:
Nirala
? That’s right.
    NMK: And Hollywood movies? Which ones did you see?
    WR:
Gone with the Wind
. There were other films, but I can’t remember them now. My parents always made sure the films we saw were suitable for us girls. But more than going to the cinema, our main entertainment was going on picnics.
    NMK: I am curious to know if you were influenced by any Hollywood actress when you came to act in films.
    WR: I liked Ingrid Bergman very much. You could never forget her presence on the screen. I liked Vivien Leigh in
Gone with the Wind
.
    I never wanted to copy any of the Hollywood actresses, and did not think I should perform in the way they did because no one could. Hollywood productions are totally different from ours. How could I do a scene in
Guide
or
Dil Diya Dard Liya
with Vivien Leigh in mind?
    I have always believed you should do what you feel is right. I never think: ‘Nasreen sits like this so I should sit like her.’ You can’t imitate anyone.
    NMK: You talked about going on picnics as a family. How many sisters are you?
    WR: Four. The eldest is Zahida and we call her ‘Bi-Apa’. Then there’s Shahida, or ‘Sha-Apa’, and Sayeeda and I. All our names end in ‘da’.
    When we were growing up, some people commented to my father: ‘Rehman, isn’t it a pity that God did not give you a son?’ He would say: ‘Emperor Akbar had nine jewels in his court and I have four.’
    I used to get cross when I heard people talk like that. So what if we did not have a brother? I was sure us girls would do well in life.

    Accompanying her father on an official tour (L to R), young Waheeda, M.A. Rehman, Mumtaz Begum and sister Sayeeda. Circa 1949.
    I once told my father: ‘Daddy, don’t worry, one day my photograph will appear in the papers. I don’t know why, but it will.’ I also told him I would own a farm and, many