New Delhi: It was the month of January, I remember clearly. I was in the 7th grade, old enough to sample the world with eager eyes and yet, not old enough to fathom the pain that goes with that very kind sampling. The sweet spot age. My father, Pravin Bhatt, was the Director of Cinematography for the film Umrao Jaan and we were going to join him in the cold of Lucknow. I was looking forward to the adventure.
First stop, by air to Delhi and then by train to Lucknow. It was at the Delhi airport that I saw the gorgeous actress Rekha on the bus from the Airplane to the terminal. She had mehendi on her hands, it was because she had returned from Lucknow to Mumbai to attend her friend Neetu Singh’s wedding to Rishi Kapoor, I heard a whisper. What a life of glamour, I thought to myself.
The train ride from Delhi to Lucknow turned out to be quite a disaster. The rail compartment that we were in was only going to Kanpur. Damn! We were out of the train in Kanpur, my mother and I. Now? What are we going to do? To my surprise, it was the same gorgeous lady, Rekha, who let us into her compartment for the ride to Lucknow. It was extremely sweet of her. Rare in the days of superstardom, I can assure you.
My father and the director Muzaffar Ali were at the station to receive us. Exciting! Carlton Hotel, if I remember right, was the name of the hotel that we were in. It looked like it was straight out of the film Mahal. Full-on horror film feels. Or perhaps that is the way I looked at everything, horror and the paranormal playing in mind.
My tryst with the culture of Lucknow could make a book that would rival Woodhouse in the area of pure hilarity. A Mumbai English schoolboy with absolutely no idea of “Lucknowi Tehzeeb”. I remember an old Aunty asking me when I was down with a bad cold, “Suna hain huzur ke dushmano ki tabiyat nazaaz hain?” I had no idea which of my enemies, if I had any, was unwell. What a strange question to ask me. My father later educated me, “Here they don’t say that you are not well, instead they use the word enemy to even ask how you are feeling.” Woah! Now that was polite.
The trip was all about visiting the exotic locations they shot in, and watching the great songs being shot with the great Rekha. An experience that I will cherish to the grave.
Umrao Jaan, however, did not remain a great experience for my father. He was owed a lot of money and the world right holder, (read moneybags) would not pay. There were the last two or three days of work left on the film and Moneybags did not even inform my father but instead did the sneaky thing and got it done by using the services of another Director of Photography. Nasty business. This led to a case in the association where Moneybags had to part with the money owed.
To my mind, Umrao Jaan was about Rekha, the music, Bansi Chandra Gupta, the production designer, and my father who did outstanding work to bring that era alive. Sadly, when my father was nominated for the National Awards, the Moneybags did not give the print for viewing out of spite. He missed the award but legends don’t need awards. Umrao Jaan does not need it and Pravin Bhatt does not need it. Surviving the test of time is the only award that is worth anything.