“Mee Mehmood cha bhau aahe” (I am Mehmood’s brother).
This is how Anwar Ali says he proudly introduced himself in the early years. “Over the years, pride graduated to modesty, and modesty evolved to happiness — but the line remained unchanged: ‘Mee Mehmood cha bhau aahe’. Further, our jodi as Rajesh and Khanna in Bombay to Goa is set in stone and etched in memory.”
It is said the top stars of the 1960s were wary of being cast with Mehmood, a natural-born scene-stealer.
Anwar Ali disagrees. “If they were shy or apprehensive, it certainly did not deter them from aspiring to work with him. At times, his track would be incorporated separately — after the shoot of the entire film — when the distributor insisted on having Mehmood in order to make the project viable, saleable… As a result, Bhaijaan was flooded with offers. If he was in the film, it was a sure-shot success. Co-actors were assured that visibility… it seemed to work for them too.”
“Bhaijaan being thirteen years older, I maintained a level of respect towards him — he was like a father figure to me. But never a dull moment with Bhaijaan amidst us eight siblings! Being the youngest, I was often at the receiving end of both pampering and pranking. Father would dote on me, giving me crisp blue rupee notes, and Bhaijaan would lure me with shining coins in exchange for what he called ‘little scraps of paper’.”
Anwar Ali grows emotional while recalling Mehmood’s responsibilities as the sole wage-earner. “In my teenage years, I witnessed his struggle to support the family. He did odd jobs before getting his first break. Once married, he stayed in a small room with a table fan and one solitary light bulb — till he rose to fame and owned many houses and a couple of hundred acres of land. He became a father figure to the entire kutumb and beyond… being a responsible head of the family.”
Mehmood, says Anwar, was a prankster even as a child. “Selling mutton pakodas to his vegetarian schoolmates — who relished every bite — must have been really humorous for him, though maybe not so much for their parents! The humour and talent were certainly innate — thanks to our father, an actor/dancer/choreographer of the great Bombay Talkies.”
“He was quite serious in that sense — constantly at work thinking, planning, discussing ways to entertain the audience. He took his craft very seriously, but it seemed effortless to others. Bhaijaan mostly moved around in a group of five — they were referred to as the Paanch Pandavas: Pancham Da (R.D. Burman), Bhaijaan, Usman Bhai (our other brother), Suresh Bhatt (choreographer), and friend Ravindra Kapoor from Punjab. They would spend many an evening at A1 Grill at Linking Road — all of them being real foodies.”
“Outings and holidays with us brought out the prankster in him! On one of our visits to Kashmir, he sent all of us brothers and sisters trekking to Khilanmarg. We covered almost the whole day on horseback and returned extremely exhausted. The next morning, he waited next to his houseboat, in his signature stance, with a mischievous smile — watching each of us walk up to him like penguins, our derrières sore from the horse ride!”
In the 1970s, Mehmood Saab turned director with sensitive films like Kunwara Baap.
Anwar recalls, “Bhaijaan’s undying passion to reach out to people in ways only his creative, genius mind knew, led him to take on the reins of filmmaking himself. Bhoot Bangla was one such masterpiece. Kunwara Baap not only carried a social message — it was a dialogue between Bhaijaan and his real and reel son Macky, who was afflicted with polio at a very young age. An unspoken cry of a father. A cry for forgiveness. A catharsis.”
As for the rumoured relationship between Mehmood and Aruna Irani, Anwar remains protective and firm. “There is no denying the fact that both shared a great onscreen chemistry. Jodi hamaari jamega kaise jaani from Aulad is a pure entertainer. Their comic timing was so in sync. They did quite a few films together. It was natural to be written about, talked about… On the other hand, comments on their personal interaction would be pure conjecture on our part. On the contrary, Bhaijaan stayed happily married to Tracy Bhabi for over forty years — till he breathed his last in Pennsylvania.”
Anwar sums up Mehmood’s final years as content and giving. “Bhaijaan’s last directorial Dushman Duniya Ka was lovingly supported by contemporary industry flag-bearers like Salman and Shah Rukh in guest roles — as an acknowledgement, an endorsement of the admiration and respect the industry had for him. He carried that love to the US, where he spent the rest of his years.”
“I believe disillusionment arises from expectation, and expectation is opposed to selflessness and generosity. The actor that he was, the achiever that he was — and most of all the giver that he was — there was no time or space for disillusionment to prevail in his life. He had been so preoccupied with promoting talent and ensuring the wellbeing of those who reached out to him for the longest time, that giving and expecting could not coexist — even in his later years. If he did encounter disappointment in a stray incident or two, it vanished as fast as it came.”
“Bhaijaan was an encyclopaedia of acting. His contribution to cinema stays unique and everlasting. With exceptional comic timing and a natural flair to entertain, Bhaijaan tickled many a funny bone and left a strong legacy. About Amitabh, he had once said, ‘Yeh lambi race ka ghoda hai’ — and look how he is still running!”
