Prose, 
poetry and then some…

At 75, veteran verse smith Gulzar is still churning out chartbusting lyrics but although he doesn’t say it in so many words, he misses his time in the studios, directing and writing up unforgettable films

There was a time when he was mortified of public speaking. He would decline all invitations to speak at literary and film conferences or recite verses from his prolific collection of poems.

Today, he has overcome his shyness, and is frequently seen on stage 
at soirées, where he speaks with his patented brand of gentle humour. Lately, the 75-year-old poet-lyricist-writer-film director received his umpteenth Lifetime Achievement Award at the MAMI 
International Film Festival in Mumbai. From the global sphere, Hollywood’s 
Morgan Freeman was awarded a trophy at the same event for his contribution to world cinema.

Gulzar, born Sampoorna Singh Kalra, has kept 
pace with the fast-changing trends in Bollywood cinema. As lyricists, Javed Akhtar and he continue 
to be the most in-demand verse smiths on the scene. However, Gulzar, who 
gave himself that secular pseudonym at the very outset of his career in the 1960s, isn’t completely creatively fulfilled.

His neatly-appointed bungalow in the swishy address of Pali Hill, Bandra, is packed with trophies — including, of course, an Oscar for the Slumdog Millionaire song Jai ho. Although he doesn’t quite articulate this, he misses being at the studios in the capacity of a film writer and director. One of his films titled Libaas, with Shabana Azmi, Naseeruddin Shah and Raj Babbar, remains unreleased and unseen. Hu Tu Tu, the last film written and directed by him, was released some 12 years ago.

Far too politically weighty to qualify as a box office entertainer, Hu Tu Tu was a no-no commercially. Critically, it garnered mixed reviews. This was on the heels of Maachis (1994), a sensitive drama about young lives being caught in the vortex of terrorism.

Subsequently, there have been reports that Gulzar would make a comeback as a film director with a project dealing with an Indo-Pak love story. It was to revolve around a group of enemy soldiers who play Cupid to a border-separated couple. The subject seemed perfect for the return of the director who is in his element while dealing with romance and relationships. His best works — Aandhi, Koshish, Mausam and Ijaazat — have recall value not only for their imperishable music scores but also for their stories of love’s labour lost and at times, regained.

In real life, Gulzar may have separated from his wife, actress Raakhee, but the two are constantly in touch. For him, relationships can never be entirely severed. In fact, there seems to be an autobiographical element in his entire oeuvre — not only of films but poems and short stories as well. Of Hindi-Urdu poetry, his collections Chand Pukhraj Ka and Raat Pashminey Ki are adored by teenagers, experiencing the first flush of love, as well as senior citizens, who find his writing extremely nostalgic.

Purists, of course, aren’t ecstatic about his lyrics like Kajra re, Bidi jalayle and Dhan tana. That’s a point of criticism Gulzar deflects by stating that he has “to reflect the mood and language of the new millennium.” Since these lyrics have gone on to become huge chartbusters and have even fetched him awards on the matrix of popularity, the criticism doesn’t faze him.

With time, the lyricist has lost some of his most compatible music directors: Madan Mohan composed the unforgettable scores for Koshish and Mausam. The writer rocked especially with RD Burman for Parichay, Khushboo, Namkeen and Ijaazat. The verse smith also maintained a long collaborative partnership with the recently deceased Jagjit Singh.

Among the actors, he has been closest to Sanjeev Kumar, and then to Naseeruddin Shah who portrayed the eponymous Mirza Ghalib in one of India’s most watchable TV serials ever.

Earlier this year, since Gulzar’s health was fluctuating, he was admitted to hospital. Fit as the proverbial fiddle now, he is back on the tennis courts every morning, which has been his physical regimen since decades. A doting grandfather, the son of his only daughter, Meghna, has been named Samay.

Gulzar’s Pali Hill bungalow, which also serves as his office, draws a crowd of filmmakers seeking lyrics and, occasionally, dialogue for a script. He doesn’t easily write dialogue for others except once in a while, making an exception for Shaad Ali (Saathiya). Every evening, the lamplight on the writer’s desk is on. Indefatigably, he soldiers on with prose and poetry. And if you ask him if he will ever direct a film again, comes the optimistic response, “Inshallah!”

(The writer has been reviewing Bollywood since he was in diapers. 
He has scripted three films and directed three others. Currently, he is working on a documentary and a book of short stories.)