HE CLAIMS to be lazy but clings onto aplenty on his plate. He wishes to rest a little in his armchair but chases out time to shuttle between acting, direction and scriptwriting. At 65, the man who wears many hats — Verinder Raj Anand aka Tinnu Anand — is in a mood to utter “never say never”.
For he is in his swinging 60s and is enjoying every moment of it. So, question doesn’t arise to either give up or slow things down at his end. As he explains insistently: “I’m not a government employee that I must retire at a certain age. Creativity knows no bars and I’m always ready to reinvent myself. Period.” Point taken sir. But what about his dream role! Would he not wait with a bated breath to essay that unique character of a lifetime? “Well, my stand is to take each day as it comes like a newly-sprouted leaf and accept every single role with a fresh lease of life. Often a wishful kirdaar comes with an expiry date for an actor I guess. The minute you translate it on the celluloid, your hunger for more and better quality parts diminishes to a null and you tend to grow complacent with your hidden potential. This is unfair. We must always keep the promise to emulate our last performance alive in our hearts, lest we forget to explore and excel in the next. Even the length of the role shouldn’t be a matter of concern as long as one can steal the thunder in a minuscule cameo,” he holds his views with his trademark buck-toothed grin. Maker of popular mainstream cinema in Bollywood with an unconventional take on his subjects, Anand’s repertoire flaunts of Kaalia, Shahenshah, Main Azaad Hoon and Major Saab with Amitabh Bachchan riding in the driver’s seat. A slew of such hard-hitting commercial movies had in turn lent Big B with a cult status and created an unparalleled brand of his “shahenshah” sobriquet that is still saleable like hot-cakes across the board.
One who swears to carry his own luck wherever he goes and hoards a strong sense of self belief in his staunch philosophy about positivity in life, actually steers clear of consulting numerology to lure in that winning streak in his work.
“Forget those clouds in the heavens above. One must see the silver lining lying within oneself to shine bright on the day that means most to him/her,” he opines. “You see, people often erringly infer that because of number-games, I’ve added an extra ‘n’ to my name’s spelling but that’s not true,” he flays such allegations.
An avid reader, Anand relaxes with a book amidst hectic schedules and returns with his recharged batteries in fine fettle. “I just finished The Outsider by Albert Camus and started flipping through my favourite author Amitav Ghosh’s latest title, River of Smoke. From classics to light-reading to a coffee table stuff, I’m not picky about books. Any good piece can keep me hooked for hours,” he maintains. “I also fondly watch films of all genres,” he further chips in.
And why not? For cinema has been his first love from day one. “Fact is, the marquee magic has always enchanted my vision. My gut-instinct says that I was as if born to be here. To quote showman Raj Kapoor’s immortal words — jeena yahan marna yahan iske siwa jana kahan — I too feel the same,” he ascertains. Ask him which fictitious character motivates him to the hilt and he surprises you with a real-life one. “It’s a true character and not a literary one,” he exemplifies. “It’s none other than my late respected father, Inder Raj Anand. He actually wrote a book on noted Lebanese American artist, poet and writer Kahlil Gibran’s life and works and travelled miles to as far as Hollywood to meet the world’s most leading directors and narrate his piece to them. He did manage to find a patient audience in celebrities like eminent French actor Alain Delon and renowned Leba-nese author-poet Mikhail Naimy — also a very close friend of Gibran — who had listened to his compilation with great interest.
But unfortunately, before anything substantial could materialise from that private tête-à-tête, my dad had passed away. I still possess the precious script with me, penned by him. So, let’s see what shapes up from there,” he reflects with a heartfelt sentiment. “You know the old golden memories can never be erased, if they are firmly etched out on the mind. During my salad days, I had happened to apprentice a great stalwart like Manikda (filmmaker Satyajit Ray), who had mentored me like his pet protégé. I remember him answering the door bell of his house without fail and he even took the trouble to type the entire set-oriented proceedings for my better understanding in English, since I had no knowledge whatsoever of the local language to communicate in, when I joined his unit as a rookie. Who would do all that even in today’s hi-tech age for an amateur newbie? Not an Academy Award winner I suppose!” he recapitulates his experiences with a quip. “Nevertheless, with his towering personality and dignified presence, Manikda would always command awe and respect form his team. It’s been my great privilege to work with the genius in five of his meaningful film projects ranging from the critically acclaimed Pratidwandi to Asani Sanket. Well, the relationship had never ended there. Not even after his demise in 1992. It has continued uninterrupted till date. I’m in fact doing his son Babu’s (Sandip Ray) films now. My last outing with him was in Gorosthane Sabdhan and before that, Hitlist,” he elaborates pensively. “Actually an actor should never shy away from his camera call pertaining to language differences. It must not pose a barrier to his performance. You see, after learning to converse in the tongue in due course of time, I’ve been fairly fluent in Bengali without an affected accent. And I guess I do the job pretty well on screen too. Albeit am an Anand by birth, yet frankly speaking, I’m a true blue Bengali at heart and would remain so agle saat janmon tak,” he comments with an emotional strain in his voice.
Currently doing a Bengali film with ace art-director Nitish Roy at the helm, Anand informs with a sense of déjà vu to have returned to Tagore’s abode of peace — Shantiniketan — for the untitled supernatural thrill-er’s shoots after 1973. “Last time, I went there as Ray’s assistant and now as an actor. History does repeat itself,” he speaks in a nostalgic tone.
Having commenced his acting career with a silent film, trust Anand to be hatke from his contemporaries. And he did prove his mettle with a histrionic prowess lodged in Kamal Hassan-Amla starrer Pushpak in 1987. “Now, what to say on this? Is Bangalore the most intelligent city with high cinematic sensibilities anywhere in the world? For the simple reason that the film ran for 25 weeks over there in the age of talkies! Even to this day, whenever I check into a restobar in the Garden City, my whisky bills are footed by somebody else other there,” he gushes with a smile.
Talking of profanity employed in Gen-Y’s contemporary cinema, Anand observes: “It’s high time that India makes adult cinema. If you go to a college canteen, what you expect to hear? The youngsters are comfortable using a brazen tongue while mingling in their own circles. But when a similar kind of expletives-infested lingo is incorporated in a particular film’s context, then the censorboard turns cynical and calls it vulgar.”
“You see, it’s not always feasible to judge and analyse everything from a purists’ point of view and place a spanner on the concerning issues from a moral highground. Keeping this issue in mind, films like Delhi Belly demand an A certificate in advance. Its content is categorically not meant for a family audience. So why take your kids to the theatres in the first place?” he further deduces. Anand is also busy working on an internationally-financed project on Gauhar Jaan, an Indian courtesan belonging to the early 20th century Kolkata.