Weight of a surname

A well-known family name can be a double-edged sword. While children of famous parents may sail on their achievements, the burden of expectations and the pressures of being a celebrity child are enormous. Nonika Singh checks out

THIS famous verse by Khalil Gibran has been hailed as the ultimate mantra to right parenting in the 21^st century. But for most of us ordinary mortals, our children are an extension of our selves through whom we care or even try to live vicariously. Inadvertently, our unfulfilled dreams and desires infringe on their lives, often stifling them but at other times helping them blossom.

But what happens to the children of accomplished and famous parents? In the spotlight before they have taken their baby steps, there is weight of expectations, (often as in case of classical artistes, of legacy and inheritance too) on their shoulders even before they can hold them straight. So is their unenviable position, a double whammy or a double bonanza?

A double-edged sword for sure, confesses talented sitarist Shujaat Husain Khan, son of legendary sitar maestro the late Ustad Vilayat Khan, whose blow-hot-blow-cold relationship with his father was an open secret. He minces no words: "Those who deem otherwise are being hypocritical. The pressures of being a celebrity child are enormous and the father-son relationship does take a beating at some point."

Classical musician Satvik veena player Salil Bhatt, whose father Pandit Vishwa Mohan Bhatt has many firsts to his credit, too, echoes similar sentiments, "Growing up under the shadow of an illustrious man, the creator of Mohan veena, winner of Grammy award, whose name is preceded by many decorations, can’t possibly be a bed of roses." Fearing comparisons with father, Salil didn’t even think of music as a vocation for a long time and even toyed the idea of with doing MBA.

Yamini Reddy, daughter of famous kuchipudi exponents Raja and Radha Reddy, went a step ahead and even got a degree in MBA finance. But only at the insistence of her mother Radha who admits: "Art is such a difficult field. I was thinking like a parent till she (Yamini) decided to take the plunge at 22."

Celebrated theatre person Neelam Mansingh Chowdhry, too, would have preferred her sons to take up nine-to-five comfortable and cushy jobs, for who knows better than her the travails of devoting a lifetime to arts.

Thinking on the same lines, eminent painter Viren Tanwar tried his best to dissuade eldest son Shiven Tanwar, when he enrolled at the Government College of Art, Chandigarh.

But who can fight inheritance? All said and done, creativity does run in the genes. Viren reminisces how as a child Shiven would get up early in the morning and demand colours and paper. Neelam, too, feels that it’s the environment that influences these children.

Filmmaker and theatre person GS Chani, whose son Gyan Dev is now his associate in making documentary films, too, observes. "From the very beginning, we allowed them to be themselves. However, children automatically pick up the right feelers and impulses. All I ever advised them was not to be a cog in the machine. When Gyan came to me with the eternal query that plagues all youngsters — what should I do — I said do what you want to." And presto, like father, like son, he decided to join the National School of Drama. After making a significant TV series on forts of India, he has moved to Delhi to find his own space.

Indeed, there is more than an iota of truth in the belief that such children sail on the achievements of their parents. Society rightly grudges them the ready platform, an acceptable family name even before they have earned it. Khan has no qualms in confessing that indeed opportunities come knocking initially. Says he, "While some provided me a platform in order to appease my father, probably others were intrigued — oh! he is Khan Sahib’s son, let us hear him." Chani agrees that compared to him the road has been less bumpy for Gyan.

But that is not to say such children have a cakewalk. Shujaat Khan, till date, is peeved by people, who expect him to be a carbon copy of his father and never make him forget whose son he is.

For Yamini, too, it’s only now that she has been able to shrug off unflattering comparisons like ‘she is good but not as much as her father’. Her mother is irked. "Imagine people would even compare Rajaji’s dance item on Shiv’s taandav with her presentation of it, quite forgetting that male vigour can’t be equated with feminine grace." The constant media glare, too, can be disconcerting. When Yamini was growing up, she had to tackle the uncomfortable query about her having two mothers. It was only later, she learnt to take in stride the badgering and absorb only the positive attention that her parents’ celebrity status brought about.

Though, at times, this status can be a hurdle, too. Viren recalls the refrain of some gallery owners that his name (Viren’s) will be the first hurdle, Shiven will have to cross. Indeed, at a subconscious level, these children are competing with their gifted parents more than their own compatriots.

But if such progeny has its own struggles, it has its strengths too. Pandit Vishwa Mohan Bhatt swears by Salil’s expertise in gat compositions. Gyan, who calls himself a "digital native", knows when it comes to technology, he is far ahead of his father. Indeed, there is much to learn from a parent, who has the advantage of experience.

Children, however, are not always receptive. Neelam feels she can easily save her son Kabir’s at least five years of struggle if only he would pay heed. But her confident son, who has worked with the likes of Deepa Mehta and is planning to make a film on one of his mother’s play "The Suit", is not ready to incorporate any suggestions by her.

Both children and parents, anyway, are wary of the progeny becoming clones. Radha feels that children can’t be replicas and even audience today has matured and is not keen to watch a reproduction. She reasons, "They have watched Raja, Radha and Kaushalya for decades, now they want something different."

Viren is only too happy that Shiven has his own distinctive style "far bolder than mine in both line and treatment."

Are these children individuals in their own right? Yet, there is much that children imbibe automatically and naturally. Kabir feels that his mother’s dexterity to create plays at a shoestring budget, and also to carry on with the same dedicated crew for decades, has rubbed off on him too. But beyond that he feels he owes his creative bent of mind to each member of the family and not just his mother. No wonder, Neelam feels the word ‘celebrity mother’ is such a misnomer. "For who in the family would let you be a celebrity. To my children, I am just a mom. Actually, children are the ultimate reality check and bring you down to mother earth."

That is not to say children are immune to their parents’ larger-than-life persona. Shiven has grown up idolising his father, who also happens to be his favourite artist. For Gyan, his father is his role model. But then he is not the only one. Even when the relationship has been tumultuous as in the case of Shujaat Husain Khan, he is grateful to the Almighty for providing him a great guru right under the same roof. Salil, too, can’t thank his stars enough that such a vast repository of knowledge has been handed down to him within the family. Ditto for Yamini, who feels blessed for, "One is learning all the time." Proud children, all of them`85.

Well, not only that`85 Gyan says he is not only a son proud of his father but a grateful one too. As Theodore Reik says, "Romance fails us and so do friendships, but the relationship of parent and child, less noisy than all the others, remains indelible and indestructible, the strongest relationship on earth." So gifted or not, celebrity or not, parents are parents. Lives of such children, however, could be a notch above extraordinaire.