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Truthfully, I have never been a great fan of Nanda’s. Perhaps it’s because I first saw her in regressive weepfests like Bhabhi and Chhoti Bahen – where she was saccharine sweet – or in regressive melodramas like Jab Jab Phool Khile, where her western avatar did her no great favours. However, now that I am older and have been exposed to more of her work, I have begun to have a sneaking liking for her vulnerable sweetness.
Nanda was born Nandini Karnataki in a showbiz family – her father, Vinayak Karnataki (better known as Master Vinayak) was a well-known Marathi and Hindi actor/producer/director. Nanda first faced the camera in a film called Mandir in which she was given the role of a boy.
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With Lata Mangeshkar – Mandir Pic Courtesy: BollywooDirect - Medium |
A reluctant actress, Nanda had to be cajoled into missing school to face the camera. Little did she know what the Fates had in store for her. In August 1947, her father passed away, leaving his wife and seven children behind. When random people insisted that Master Vinayak had borrowed money from them, his widow sold their flat and belongings to repay the ‘debt’. The family was now homeless. Little Nanda had to forsake her schooling in order to keep the home fires burning.
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With Shanta Apte - Mandir Pic Courtesy: Wikipedia |
Luckily, when Mandir released in 1948, Nanda was noticed. She began getting offers in both Marathi and Hindi films. She even acted as a heroine in some Marathi films before V Shantaram, her father’s maternal cousin, offered her a lead role in Rajkamal’s Toofan aur Diya opposite Rajendra Kumar. She and Satish Vyas play orphaned siblings buffeted by the vagaries of fate; fortunately, the film had a happy ending.
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| With Rajendra Kumar and Satish Vyas - Toofan aur Diya |
Her next big hit was AVM Productions’ Bhabhi (1957), which was the remake of their Tamil production, Kuladaivam (1956). That, in turn, was a remake of the 1954 Bengali film, Bhanga Gara. Nanda played a child widow, unaware of her marriage. Supporting roles and second lead roles followed in quick succession, and Nanda was making a name for playing the sweet innocent girl-next-door.
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In Chhoti Bahen Pic Courtesy: Film History Pics |
When the titular role of Chhoti Bahen (1959) fell into her lap, Nanda grabbed her chance. Though a three-handkerchief melodrama, Chhoti Bahen’s success catapulted the actress into the big league. But Nanda never forgot her struggles to get where she was; co-star Shashi Kapoor always spoke of Nanda with gratitude – she deigned to work with him when he was considered box-office poison. While their first two films – the critically acclaimed Char Diwari (1961) and Mehendi Lagi Meri Haath (1962) did not work, their next six films were box office successes, the biggest of which was the 1965 blockbuster Jab Jab Phool Khile. Shashi Kapoor was not the only ‘new’ hero she worked with: she signed her career-best film Ittefaq with then-newcomer Rajesh Khanna. The success of this songless thriller continued with the next two films that starred the pair – The Train (1970) and Joru Ka Ghulam (1972).
Films like Gumnaam (1965) helped cement her status as one of the highest paid heroines of her time. Unfortunately for her, while her performance in Chhalia and Naya Nasha (both 1973) were critically acclaimed, the films themselves were nothing to write home about. She slowly eased back on her assignments and went into semi-retirement until returning to play the role of an ageing tawaif in Esmayeel Shroff’s Ahista Ahista (1981), a remake of the hugely successful Kannada film Gejje Pooje (1969). Then. Raj Kapoor persuaded her to don the greasepaint for Prem Rog (1982). The next year, she worked in Mazdoor (1983) – coincidentally, she played Padmini Kolhapure’s mother in all three films – before retiring gracefully from the arc lights.
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| Pic Courtesy: BollywooDirect - Medium |
Nanda retained lifelong friendships with her girl gang – co-stars like Waheeda Rehman, Jabeen Jalil, and Shakila. Later, Sadhana, Asha Parekh and Helen too became close friends. According to her brother, the late actress loved eating out, watching new releases in theatres and travelling. Unfortunately for Nanda, her engagement with director Manmohan Desai ended tragically with the latter’s untimely death. Afterwards, she became even more reclusive. Nanda’s death was also sudden – she died from a heart attack on 25 March 2014.
Today, on her 10th death anniversary, I dithered between writing up a list of her best performances as I usually do under this category, or post a list of songs picturized on her that I particularly love – I chose the latter to celebrate an actress whom I have come to, if not be a fan of, at least regard a little more highly than I did before.
Allah tero naam
Hum Dono
(1962)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Music: Jaidev
Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi
This
bhajan, sung while her husband is away at war, is a plea that echoes the
thoughts and feelings of millions of mothers, wives, sisters and daughters of
men who choose to fight for their country. While the lyrics beg God to bring
the men safely back, there’s also a plea for wiser heads to prevail. Nanda’s air
of fragility lends realism to her character’s serious illness; her eyes reflect
both her fear for her husband (and the other men) as well as a forlorn hope
that he will come home to her.
This
is the film that made me begin to like Nanda. Sadhana may have had the more author-backed
‘heroine’ role, but Nanda’s nuanced performance highlights her bewilderment,
her anguish, and her eventual strength as she navigates the shoals of a
relationship gone askew. As an ill wife unaware that the
man who has returned from the battlefield is not her husband, Nanda brings an
endearing vulnerability to her portrayal. Her husband had adored her; the man
who is now living in the same house keeps his distance from her and will not explain why.
Hum Dono was
Dev Anand’s way of keeping his promise to Nanda. Many heroines had rejected the
role of his sister in Kala Bazaar. When Nanda too rejected that explaining that no one would ever cast her as
his heroine, Dev promised her that he would cast her opposite him in his next
film.
Machalti aarzoo
Usne Kaha Tha
(1960)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Music: Salil Choudhury
Lyrics: Shailendra
Kamli (Nanda) returns to the village where she becomes reacquainted with her childhood crush, Nandu (Sunil Dutt). Very soon, their friendship deepens into love. This song, sung in the first flush of love, depicts a young woman’s thoughts about the man she loves. Nanda looks very pretty as she swings on a jhoola, her joy so evident in the myriad expressions that flit across her face. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much to do except look pretty – and cry.
Salilda was famous for reusing his own tunes across languages. Itharo chembaruntho from Thumboli Kadappuram (1995), Salilda's last film in Malayalam, reuses the base melody of Machalti aarzoo. But, with the sound of traditional drums, the reincarnated melody is soaked in the Malayali ethos. The arrangements change a beautiful love song in Hindi into a fisherman's song in Malayalam. The interludes diverge completely from the original.
Jhuk jhuk jhuk jhoome ghata chhaii re
Char Diwari (1961)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Music: Salil Choudhury
Lyrics: Shailendra
A young wife, revelling in the first rains of the season, is hurrying to put things away before the shower turns into a downpour. She picks the clothes off the clothesline, the produce kept out to dry, even the charpoy in the courtyard. Then, she sits down to fold the clothes, a song on her lips.
An old-fashioned melodrama emphasising the traditional role of women in society, Char Diwari was the first film that starred Nanda with newcomer Shashi Kapoor. His debut film Dhartiputra had failed at the turnstiles, and Char Diwari, while critically acclaimed, did not exactly set the box office on fire either. But the film had wonderful songs by Salilda, each one of them a gem.
Kabhi kisi ko mukammal jahaan nahin milta
Ahista Ahista (1981)
Singer: Asha Bhosle
Music: Khayyam
Lyrics: Nida Fazli
No, no one gets a perfect world. You have to give up something to get something.
Esmayeel Shroff’s lacklustre remake of the Kannada blockbuster Gejje Pooje (1969) was only saved by the performances – Nanda’s as an ageing Devdasi who wants a better future for her daughter; Padmini Kolhapure as the young girl who is forced to join her mother’s profession; and Shammi Kapoor, as the father of the boy who falls in love with a girl who does not belong to his social class. The male lead was a wooden Kunal Kapoor, Shashi Kapoor’s son.
Ye sama sama hain ye pyaar ka
Jab Jab Phool Khile (1965)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Music: Kalyanji-Anandji
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
The 60s didn’t do Nanda any favours. She just wasn’t cut out for the fashions of the day, and the horrendous women’s hairstyles of the period only made matters worse. Yet, this film was possibly the biggest hit of her career. Nanda plays the very westernised Rita, the spoilt daughter of a rich businessman, who’s used to getting her own way every time. Whilst on holiday, she falls in love with a shikarawala (Shashi Kapoor). Here, in a far cry from her own simple persona, Nanda essays the sultry Rita, clad in a satin nightgown, crooning about a night tailor-made for romance.
Kis liye maine pyaar kiya
The Train (1970)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Music: RD Burman
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Nanda plays the regulation heroine, romancing the hero, Rajesh Khanna, in this remake of the Malayalam film Cochin Express (1967). She doesn’t have much to do in this cops-and-robbers flick, but look pretty and sing songs. Which she does very well indeed in this lovely number, as her character waits for her boyfriend to come home to meet her mother.
Waadiyaan mera daaman
Abhilasha (1968)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Music: RD Burman
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Ritu (Nanda) and Arun (Sanjay Khan) are in love with each other, a fact that the latter's brother, Ajay (Kashinath Ghanekar) is unaware of. While Arun is away at training, Ritu and Ajay go for a drive where, remembering Arun, Ritu sings a song that he had sung to her just before they parted. She’s so lost in her memories that she’s oblivious to the man she’s with – a man who thinks that she’s singing of her feelings for him! Nanda brings alive her character’s feelings, her expressions showing that she’s in her own world.
Kajre badarwa re
Pati Patni (1966)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Music: RD Burman
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Like the previous song from Char Diwari, here too, Nanda plays a wife who’s doing her chores, all the while remembering her absent husband. Pati Patni was a rather regressive film – all modern women are promiscuous witches who give their husbands a hard time; all they care about is dressing up, going to clubs and gambling at cards. The ‘good’ woman is one who takes care of her home and hearth, dresses in a sari and does not have a single opinion of her own. It’s a shame, though – they could have shown how education and hard work can make a woman strong and independent, while blindly following trends can break a home, without all the moralising. Great songs, however.
Meethi meethi baaton se bachna zara
Qaidi No: 911
Music: Dattaram
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri
This song is something of a semi-duet, with Daisy Irani interjecting a couple of lines in each antara. A lovely little ditty, the lyrics by Hasrat Jaipuri teach the young lad (Daisy Irani) all about life without at all being preachy. Nanda is at her sisterly best in this Sheikh Mukhtar film about a man who is incarcerated for a crime he has not committed.
Dattaram
Wadkar worked with Sajjad and more extensively with Shankar-Jaikishan as a
musician. Who can forget the famed Dattaram Theka? He got his first
break as an independent composer with Raj Kapoor’s Ab Dilli Door Nahin. He
composed for over 20 films and has more than a hundred songs to his credit. The
musical scores of films like Parvarish and Ab Dilli Door Nahin
stand testament to his talent.
You
will notice that all these are solos; as a bonus, a few duets picturized on
Nanda that are always on my list of favourites:
Aha rhimjhim ke ye pyaare pyaare geet liye
Usne Kaha Tha
(1960)
Singers: Talat Mahmood, Lata Mangeshkar
Music: Salil Choudhury
Lyrics: Shailendra
Usne Kaha Tha is a film that begins lightly enough but turns serious in the second half. And like Shashi Kapoor, Sunil Dutt was another frequent co-star of Nanda’s. Aha rhimjhim ke ye pyaare pyaare geet mile appears in the first half of the film, refreshing as the rain-drenched surroundings and a sweet-faced Nanda who falls in love with the local bad-boy-turned-upright-citizen Sunil Dutt. Salilda's music complements the playful, romantic mood, and Talat and Lata give voice to the lovers' hopes and dreams. (Listen to Lata warble the chorus, especially at the end of the song - she sounds like a songbird.)
Thehariye hosh mein aa loon
Mohabbat Isko Kehte Hain (1965)
Singers: Mohammed Rafi, Suman Kalyanpur
Music: Khayyam
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Majrooh was a past master at stitching together delicate emotions in lyric form. Here, in this romantic ode, he expresses the angst of a lover who cannot bear to be separated from his beloved. He begs her not to leave until he regains his senses (which, obviously, is never). She demurs – she’s too shy to express her love, she explains. And Nanda had the kind of face that could express her innate shyness very well indeed. A lovely composition by Khayyam.
Likha hain teri aankhon mein
Teen Deviyaan (1965)
Singers: Kishore Kumar, Lata Mangeshkar
Music: SD Burman
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Nanda was the quintessential ‘girl-next-door’. And here, in this film, she’s literally playing one – she’s Dev Anand’s neighbour and one of the three women to whom he’s attracted. The others are the glamorous actress Kalpana and the sophisticated socialite, Simi. (The depiction of the three women is problematic on many levels and the climax was a head-to-desk moment if ever there was one.) On a picnic with Nanda, Dev woos her with this song. Nanda, fresh-faced and ebullient, is a treat to watch as she dances in the fields, chases a pony, eats bhuttas, etc.
Jhukti ghata gaati hawa
Dhool ka Phool (1959)
Singers: Asha Bhosle, Mahendra Kapoor
Music: N Datta
Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi
While Nanda had only a supporting role in this film (Mala Sinha is the heroine), she does get to lip sync to this lovely song. And in the few scenes she does have, she acts very well indeed. (Consider the scene where she insists that her husband adopt his child and sends him away to do so.) Here, just married (and unaware that her husband had callously dumped his pregnant girlfriend to marry her), Malti (Nanda) is on her honeymoon and deliriously happy. Sahir’s lyrics transform a romantic ballad by invoking nature as an active participant in the couple’s happiness.
Hum do mohabbat ke maare kahaan jaaye
Joru ka Ghulam
Singers: Kishore Kumar, Asha Bhosle
Music: Kalyanji-Anandji
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
When I reviewed Joru ka Ghulam, I wrote that the film was an entertaining watch about how one small lie can have a domino effect. Though the film is titled Joru ka Ghulam and Rajesh Khanna plays the titular character, Nanda got to showcase her talent as a character who precipitates this comedy of errors. She is sweet but not cloying and despite the tight salwars and bouffant hairdo, she infuses Kalpana with a natural charm. Here, in this song, she has run away from home to escape from her overbearing father’s attempt to control her life. Despite her beloved’s reservations, the duo marry but discover that they are not destined to be alone anywhere. So, they wander around the town trying to find a place where they can share a few private moments without being disturbed.
As
was her wont, Nanda had signed this film when Rajesh Khanna was still trying to
make it big. But in the interim, Aradhana happened, skyrocketing Khanna
to superstar status. According to an interview with Nanda’s brother, Jaiprakash
Karnataki, the posters for this film gave Khanna
top billing over Nanda. However, the actor called up Nanda to
apologise for the ‘distributor error’ and ensured that the posters were corrected.
You are remembered, Nanda. Your infectious smile, your dignified presence, and the sweetness you brought to your roles are missed as well.
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