As I read this book in 2022, had Yousaf Sahab been alive, he would have turned 100 by the end of this year. It’s very apparent that he is a man of a different time and a different sensibility. Thankfully today, no one chains people with mental illness to a cot; or treats physical ailments with metabolic waste (although some people still use cow urine as medicine! Gah!). There is no “Hindu chai” “Muslim chai”. It’s not improper for a “decent lady” to offer paan. No person can insist that a woman get married to their friend on the very night that the friend expresses a desire to marry her. No filmmaker can “mistakenly” get into an actress’ bed. Fewer educated people believe in witchcraft. And one doesn’t wake up to news that they have become the sheriff of a city (there is at least some pretense of due process now)!
And then there are things that haven’t changed. His was the generation of celebrities that set a template for social commitment. He was among the first actors to join politics, raise money for charities, do contemporary-style promotions for cinema, encourage fan hysteria! In fact, the trend of changing one’s name to a more contemporary sounding “secular” name started in his generation! It’s a trend that sadly continues to this day.
Yousaf Sahab became an actor right before India won its freedom from the British Colonial rule, and just as Indian cinema bounced back after WWII, the Indian Independence Movement and the partition of India and Pakistan. It was called the ‘Golden Age of Hindi Cinema’. Films were mostly message-orientated with strong social themes in both rural and contemporary urban contexts. He goes into good detail about some of his popular films, and his acting methods. I enjoyed his take on acting. He thought very deeply about method and spontaneous (instinctual) acting, and realism and what it takes to be convincing, compelling and inspiring in equal measure. A lot of people talked about his masterful use of silence (which was unusual at that time). He defined and redefined what a hero could be, and explored many shades of emotion with each character. His was also the first generation of anti-heroes. He is called the “Tragedy King”, but in fact, he was adept in several genres.
Yousuf Sahab was an actor, producer, director, writer and even singer (in Musafir and Karma). He speaks of his close involvement in all production stages. He has seen many generations of technical advancements. Since he was learning how to work camera, light, sound, etc alongside technicians, it gave him a chance to participate in technical experiments, and collaborate with them on shots. In a way, he schooled technicians on how to do their job. Many of the actors who paid tribute to him in the second half of the book shared that he didn’t take credit for the work he did during production (Eg: editing, directing, art direction, storyboarding, cinematography, etc). There’s a lot in the book about the camaraderie he shared with his colleagues. It was a two-way learning process.
I enjoyed reading about his childhood, his many friendships and relationships, and the equations he share with actors and filmmakers. He is a class act who spared us a lot of unsavory details about some of the personal issues he had with some actors and politicians. He didn’t evade them, as much as indulge our curiosity without getting down and dirty. Where he was unrestrained was is in his praise of people (including those he had disagreements with). There’s a lot to learn from those who are able to find that balance between honoring others’ curiosity, and respecting the privacy of everyone, including oneself!
The book reads like an intimate chat with a seasoned actor who has seen a lot, and is able to look back on events with some retrospective clarity. You get a little sampler of every aspect of his life.
It was a great idea to include the tributes of all his colleagues in the second half of the book! So many women were included in the tributes, as were non-film people (from politicians to physicians, social workers, domestic workers, friends and relatives. They were all arranged in alphabetical order, and serves as testament to his egalitarian spirit that many of his colleagues praised him for in this book). One of the fun parts of the book was reading about people's first meetings with him (including how he welcomed absolute strangers to his house). They were full of anecdotes about his sense of humor, his generosity, his acting prowess and charismatic personality. Some tributes read like gossip columns. Not gonna lie, I enjoyed those too.
Some people who reviewed this book were annoyed that the anecdotes and praises were repetitive. If ten people speak of his generosity or humility versus one, isn’t it more likely to be true? And all of them sound genuine.
And if you are looking to adjudicate his controversial decisions, then this is not the book for you. It’s a biography, not a confession! Still, he offers enough explanation. (Harish Salve’s writeup about his income tax problems was most interesting. I wish there was a recording of the 40-minute speech Yusuf Sahab gave to tribunal members on how movies are made.).
All in all, the book was a real treat.
(We often talk about how actresses today are able to work after getting married or having children as if to say this wasn’t the norm in the past. Saira Banu ji married Yousuf Sahab in 1966, and worked all the way till 1988).