Talking Life Javed Akhtar in conversation with Nasreen Munni Kabir. Westland. Pages 217. Rs 799
Book Title: Talking Life
Author: Javed Akhtar
Renu Sud Sinha
JAVED AKHTAR certainly knows the art of conversation. Laced with humour and quick wit, some of his recent viral conversations with Gulzar and at the Faiz festival in Lahore last week are proof enough. However, for any dialogue to be truly memorable, it needs to be true and honest.
In ‘Talking Life: Javed Akthar in Conversation with Nasreen Munni Kabir’, the poet, lyricist, screenwriter and social activist has been quite candid, whether talking about himself or the people associated with him, prodded suitably by Kabir, herself an experienced documentarian and writer with over 100 documentaries and more than 20 books on Hindi cinema. The book is the last of the trilogy of ‘Talking Films’ (1999) and ‘Talking Songs’ (2002). This conversational biography that looks at his extraordinary journey reads more like one of Salim-Javed scripts.
His candour shines through — whether he talks about his relationships or his films or the things he finds right or wrong with the film industry and its people.
Born into a lineage of poets, lawyers and freedom fighters, both from his mother and father’s side, Akhtar says he was read some lines from the Communist manifesto into his ear at his birth by his father Jan Nisar Akhtar, a key member of the Progressive Writers’ Association. This, perhaps, accounts for his rationalist streak and activism, and that he thought Stalin was his grandfather during childhood, because of the leader’s portrait in their drawing room.
His mother Safia, ‘a highly educated woman with political acumen’, died when he was only eight. Her death and a father who almost abandoned him and his younger brother ‘changed everything’. The years after her death taught him self-reliance, survival and also defiance that stood him in good stead during his struggling period in Bombay, where the self-respecting youngster never used his father’s name to seek work.
The 19-year-old would often go hungry for days and sometimes slept on the Khar railway station or parks and pavements. Even after his first job at Kamal Amrohi’s company that paid him a measly Rs 50, he would often sleep on the wooden crates in the studio compound.
Akhtar speaks of his initial years, his partnership with Salim and how and why they drifted apart quite dispassionately. The duo wrote some iconic scripts — ‘Sholay’, ‘Deewaar’, ‘Zanjeer’. There are many interesting anecdotes as well — about his ‘discoveries’ Amitabh Bachchan, Raj Babbar and Shankar Mahadevan, his first meeting with Faiz Ahmad Faiz and more behind-the-scene stories.
He talks about his rise to fame as candidly as he discusses his alcoholism or why his first marriage failed.
His account about the thrilling race to get the Copyright Bill passed seems like a climax scene from his many movies. The legislation succeeded in getting recognition for lyricists and composers but, for many years, he did not write a song as the producers and music companies didn’t forgive him for his efforts. The book touches upon many of his favourite topics, including rationalism and why he is an atheist. “Because I think,” has been his succinct reply to this oft-asked question.
Not just for Javed Akhtar fans, the book is a recommended read for students of Indian cinema and how it has changed in the 60 years since he first arrived in Bombay. And it is a must-read for students of life about never giving up even when all it does is to throw you curveballs.
