The actress of Chashme Baddoor fame was in Chandigarh for the launch of her book, A Country Called Childhood.
Lily Swarn
She had a calm, almost imperceptible, aura around her as she walked into this room full of eager humans from the city of white beards and green hedges, Chandigarh.
A neat knot of jet black hair at the nape of her neck added to her understated persona. Later, someone in the room wanted to know if she was particularly partial to the colours black and white as the cover of her latest book also had a black and white image of her earlier days. She smilingly admitted that her closet was full of these two colours and that simplicity was her style statement.
Deepti Naval is a popular face of Indian cinema, spoken of in the same breath as Shabana Azmi and Smita Patil. An award winning actress who gave life-like, sensitive performances.
Gracefully draped in an elegant black silk sari with a contrasting yet sedate, ivory tinted, round necked blouse, Deepti’s first film as lead actress was the path breaking Ek Baar Phir. She could easily pass off as the lady who you might knock into at your book club. Loved and lauded for her roles opposite the remarkable Farooq Shaikh, Deepti is a painter, photographer, director and a poet.
Many of us will remember her magnetic portrayals in Chashme Baddoor, Katha, Saath Saath, Kamla, Mirch Masala and many more. Films like Leila, Firaaq, Memories in March , Listen Anaya, NH10,to name a few, got her the Best Actor Award.
Born in 1952, she carries her years lightly and with elan. Deepti was in our city to discuss about and launch her book, A Country Called Childhood.
The book meanders around her home in the walled city of Amritsar in Chandraavali near Khairuddin Masjid and Mochi gully. She reveals her growing years in vivid detail, making it amply clear that she recorded her childhood because she loved it.
On being probed about what made Amritsar, which she intriguingly refers to as Ambershire, special for her, she solemnly replied that it was the holy Golden Temple and the city ‘s inclusive culture even after the horrors of partition.
What stayed on with me after I came home that day was an observation Deepti made about the traumatic escape of her mother’s family from Burma in 1942 and then seeing the division of the country in 1947.
When you are one of the most admired actors in the country, your formative years surely have a profound reflection on your being and on your craft today. Sitting for hours in the barsaati of her house, looking at the cloud formations or watching her nanny Mai Sardi as she sat with cotton wool around her, stitching quilts chatting up the tenant Raj Aunty. The cadence and rhythm of that Punjabi dialect remains with her. Deepti said she had no memory of Mai Sardi slapping her, though, she was sent away for that!
She also talked about their family vacations in Kullu valley and how in the 50s Manali was just a hamlet.
Deepti who was affectionately called Deepi and Dolly or even Dole-li talked of the Mad Man of Manali , who only intoned three words whenever he spoke . She and her sister were scared of him as he hung around the bridge on the Beas river. On being requested, she sportingly mimicked him for us: “Wah Jee wah! Wah jee wah!” Her charming visage lit up as she graciously complied with our request.
Fond of films, she spoke about a collection of cuttings of her favourite stars: “On the left shutter of my cupboard was Asha Parekh in a hat and jacket from Ziddi, Sadhana of Mere Mehboob in a sharara, smiling in her French cut and Nanda of Hum Dono with a beauty spot at the edge below her lower lip. On the right shutter were pictures of Meena Kumari – the ultimate! There was Waheeda Rehman from Baat Ek Raat ki, and of Nutan as well, but most of the photos were of Meena Kumari and those I have preserved till today.”
Having learnt kathak along with her friend Preeti , Deepti performed as Radha in Mathura Gaman during her college days.
Deepti is a graduate of Hunter College, City University of New York from where she acquired her bachelor’s degree in fine arts .Painting was her major subject along with astronomy, psychology and American theatre.
I couldn’t stop myself from asking her which of her many avtars she relished the most. To which she replied, without an iota of hesitation, that it was most certainly that of a writer. She further explained that she can’t actually be her own self while enacting any of the characters she portrays in films but when she writes, she is her true self.
She also got talking about her dad who was a professor of English. She called him Piti which was an endearingly shortened version of Pita ji. She mentioned resenting the seminars which Piti conducted in the house for her didi and her, complete with board and all. In hindsight, she reminisces that they were valuable lessons which she was too young to fathom back then.
Deepti shared the fear she felt when she went down three flights of steps at night to pee as it used to be pitch dark. Her Piti used to stand with a torch at the top and encourage her to go fearlessly. Sometimes the torch would move in her dad’s hands creating petrifying images on the walls. She was terrified of the creatures she visualised amongst the flickering shadows. She recalled racing back up valiantly in one go. Old houses and their sinister fears!
Another incident she shared with us that morning was about a homeless man who practically lived below their house and who was normally a harmless sort. He was called Bha – brother – by all. As she and her sister played outside sliding down, one day, Bha suddenly caught hold of her foot and wouldn’t let go. Deepti relived that moment of sheer terror with us.
This girl had engraved her address on a whitewashed pillar thus: Deepti Naval Chandraavali, Katra Sher Singh, Hall Bazaar,Amritsar,India,World,Universe ,Cosmos, Space.
Her father had noticed the inscription and decided to emigrate to the US to provide a larger stage for his children “to enact their lives.”
As she signed the copies with a personal touch for all present that day, I pondered over the makings of great artistes. There’s no artifice painted on such beings. They are pure gold. Each sparkle is like that of an uncut diamond. They could be found in any mine anywhere in the world. This one is from Amritsar, or Ambershire as she fondly calls it.
Lily Swarn is an internationally acclaimed poet, author and columnist who has won over fifty national and international awards and whose works have been translated into seventeen languages.
Lily Swarn is an internationally acclaimed poet, author and columnist who has won over fifty national and international awards and whose works have been translated into seventeen languages.
