A freewheeling conversation between Javed Akhtar and Nasreen Munni Kabir, the book provides fascinating insights into the life and mind of a man whose work continues to touch millions.
Akhtar speaks with refreshing honesty about the ups and downs of his extraordinary life—from his early childhood in Lucknow to his struggles in the sixties as an aspiring writer trying to break into the film industry, to his later years as husband, father, and hugely successful song writer and poet. He reflects on the friendships and collaborations that were the highlights of his personal and professional life, and the inescapable disappointments. He relives the battle he waged on behalf of lyricists and music composers in Parliament, the intense internal struggle to overcome the difficulties that built up in the wake of fame and money, and the many strands that wove through his relentless pursuit of excellence.
Candid and wide-ranging, Talking Life is an unputdownable read packed with stories and anecdotes from film history.
Javed Akhtar is the co-writer of many leading Hindi films of the 1970s, including Zanjeer, Deewar and Sholay. He has won numerous awards for his screenplays and song lyrics. Several volumes of his poetry have been published in Urdu and in translation into several languages, including English and French. An accomplished speaker, he has been invited to lecture at various universities and literature festivals across the world. He is also a leading cultural commentator whose wit and intellect have won him legions of fans.
If one were to list the most popular present-day Hindi film personalities who aren’t actors, Javed Akhtar’s name would probably come pretty much near the top. Much-acclaimed, frequently awarded, he wears many hats. Lyricist par excellence. Writer—of both script and dialogue—for some of Hindi cinema’s most iconic hits, like Sholay, Zanjeer, Deewaar and Seeta aur Geeta. Urdu poet. Social activist who is outspoken and fearless.
But who, really, is Javed Akhtar? Who is the man behind the immensely successful professional? What are his antecedents, of course; but more importantly, what sort of person is he?
Nasreen Munni Kabir, long associated with the luminaries of the Hindi film industry and with many similar ‘conversational memoirs’ and biographies to her credit (Gulzar, Waheeda Rehman, AR Rahman and Lata Mangeshkar among them), interviews Javed Akhtar in Talking Life, the third in a series of conversations with Javed Akhtar. In the previous Akhtar-Kabir conversations, Talking Films and Talking Songs, the focus has been on Akhtar’s two main areas of professional excellence; in Talking Life, while some of that does come through (obviously, given that Akhtar has been writing for cinema in different roles since the 1960s), the emphasis is more on his personal life.
Talking Life is a chapterless book; Nasreen Munni Kabir’s questions are followed by Javed Akhtar’s answers, followed by more questions, in a free-flowing, realistic conversation that often reveals the comfort level between the interviewer and the interviewee. The conversation begins with Akhtar talking at length about his family, beginning with his paternal great-great-grandfather, Fazl-e-Imam, who was the Sadr-us-Sudur or Chief Justice of the Mughal court; from here, Akhtar moves forward immediately to Fazl-e-Imam’s son, the illustrious poet and philosopher Allama Fazl-e-Haq Khairabadi, who edited Mirza Ghalib’s Dewan, served as Chief Justice for the state of Awadh—and was sent to the Andamans’ notorious Kaala Paani, the Cellular Jail, for the active role he played in the uprising of 1857.
As Akhtar talks of his forebears, it’s interesting to see these two major threads—of poetry on the one hand, political activism on the other—play out again and again, one generation after the other. From Akhtar’s paternal grandfather, the poet Muztar Khairabadi to Akhtar’s own much-respected, famous father, the poet and lyricist Jan Nisar Akhtar; from his maternal uncle, the renowned poet Majaz Lakhnawi to his younger brother, Ansar Harwani, a freedom fighter who was jailed frequently for his anti-British activities: this has been a family both of letters and of strong political beliefs.
Akhtar’s mother, Safia, who passed away when he was just eight years old, is one of the most poignant figures in this book, remembered with emotion. So, too, are other relatives, both past and present, including Akhtar’s aunt and uncle (who looked after him for several years after Safia’s death), and his maternal grandparents. When he was not quite twenty years old, Akhtar came away to Bombay, and from hereon, the people whom he mostly discusses are those whom he got to know through work or in ways related to work. Contrary to what one may expect, not all of these are celebrities; Akhtar looks back with affection and obvious respect at a diverse group of people. The many people who allowed him room to live and sleep for free when he had no place to call home; the chatty owner of a ‘speakeasy’; a ticket checker of the Bombay local; the staff members who have been part of his household for many years.
Although it’s arranged in a roughly chronological order, Talking Life doesn’t always go the way one expects it to. There are digressions: now and then, the topic drifts away into other, related, realms. Akhtar explains the basics of Urdu poetry. He talks of his philosophy of life. He and Nasreen Munni Kabir discuss everything from his favourite actors to his working partnership with Salim Khan, from his campaign to have the Copyright Act amended to his relationship with his father, Jan Nisar Akhtar. One gets the impression of an informal, organic conversation rather than a staged interview.
What adds to the readability of this book is the honesty and frankness that Akhtar brings to it: he is candid about his own faults and flaws, even regretful. There is a certain humbleness here, a willingness to admit to wrong decisions and weaknesses. No salacious gossip, however, is part of this frankness: there’s dignity here, and a good sense of what is for public consumption and what is not.
The frankness, the delightful sense of humour, and the easy way in which Javed Akhtar manages to inform and educate (on cinema, on poetry, on copyright laws, and more): all of these help make Talking Life a readable, interesting memoir.
At the time of writing this review, I've only recently had the copy signed by Ms. Nasreen and Mr. Akhtar - so count that enthusiasm as one of the factors as to why I was able to read this book in a day. Another was that it's a pretty breezy read, primarily working as a biographical interview than a usual "book" per se, for both better and worse. Regardless, it's pretty hype to be the first rating and review for a fresh book by a writer I so admire.
While we do follow a roughly chronological trajectory, there's also a lot of jumping back and forth with him mentioning something from his future that connects to the memory being talked about, or how he reflects on important events, both good and bad, to look back on his life with a little distance. The early passing of his mother and the distant relationship with his father (for v good reasons), among other things, are what deprived him of many things, but they also defined him in others. He compares it to a screenplay, where taking out the painful parts of his life would also demean the highlights.
While it's obvious you'd have to at least somewhat appreciate a person to start reading about their life, I would say this makes for a fascinating read regardless. Even in interview format, Javed knows how to make his philosophical points in interesting ways whether it's about cinema, stories from Bollywood, faith/atheism, relationships through a lens of his own, or life in general.
He says it's rare that you find talent, discipline, and self-esteem all together in a person, and I'm inclined to say he's one of those people too. He's had a very unique family background, full of scholars, poets, and thinkers - and he is candid about its privilege and the creative environment it fostered around him. Having heard him talk twice already, it was fun to catch glimpses of stories I was already familiar with, such as his grandmother, despite being deeply religious, was furious upon learning he'd been 'bribing' Javed to learn verses from the Quoran. She did not believe they had the right to impose their faith on a completely impressionable mind. Some simple questions arose among the stories and I'd like to "save" his take on:
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Definition of a good person?
Very simple. The only criterion is how many people has that person helped without any kind of personal agenda, and without undermining their own self-respect. It's also said that to truly understand a person, one must live with them for fourteen years. Or travel with them (this one I agree HARD on. Travelling with someone is like speedrunning the get to know em process). I think there's another way too, and that is seeing them when they're angry. All masks and inhibitions fall away, and the difference between a decent and an indecent person becomes obvious.
Carl Jung wrote something to the effect of that the psyche was made up of many interacting systems - something like the rooms in the mind that you speak of.
I hope he didn't say there's also a no man's land between our conscious and subconscious xD
The conscious mind doesn't always help us when we're creating something. When I'm writing a song, I listen to the tune many times and go to sleep for an hour or so. I find the song words come to me more easily when I wake up. Poetry or creative act takes place in this no man's land. Art is a paradox. Art means getting lost in your imagination and emotions, but you need craft along with those instincts. Craft means being objective, judicious, and sometimes even manipulative.
Imagination, fantasy, emotion, and passion stir in the writer's mind, yet there is also craft that will say - no, this paragraph is too long, this sentence is meandering, edit it, use that word instead of this. The process is surgical, clever, manipulative, and objective. I'll borrow Ghalib's words to describe what I think you need to create art.
If optimism helped you, why do you call it foolish?
If I could see my situation objectively, I would have become depressed. When I was 18 my last pair of trousers got badly torn and there was no way I could wear them. (Another interesting thing was how he fantasized about plain dal rice when hungry 36h or longer, and he's right in saying that's because the stomach craves for simple food when hungry for a while)
It was a real problem, and it upset me, though somewhere in the back of my mind I was happy it had happened because I thought this could be the highlight of a book I'd write when I became somebody. Here's an 18-year-old boy with no clothes and still amused. I stayed in my room with a wrapped bed sheet till a friend lent a pair of trousers. (I thought I was alone and low-key narcissistic in thinking this way when shit goes down in my life but glad to know there's another mf like that xD)
From those moments of uncertainty, fantasizing about winning awards and not knowing where your next meal was coming from to now - is Javed Akhtar the same person?
Yes and no. Even when we try to become different, to some extent we are the same. When we try to remain the same person, to a great extent, we become different.
About political inclination of art.. Art can only survive if it is secular. Because it must appeal to the aesthetics of the many. Michelangelo and other artists may have made works of art about Christian mythology, but we don't appreciate those works because they are confined to Christian thought - they have transcended it and are great art, and that's why we love them.
You cannot remain parochial, communal, or narrow-minded in art... that is why the right wing all over the world has been unable to create great artists. You cannot name one great poet who is a right-winger. There is no great poet in South Africa who approved of Apartheid and wrote the glory of racism. It is just not possible. Most are left of centre.
You once talked about charisma, how do you define it?
I think anything that can be defined is not charisma. You only recognize charisma when it appears before you. At the same time, we humans have a compulsion to find logic in everything so I'll give it a shot.
I believe charisma is the combination of two incompatible qualities: confidence and vulnerability. The average person is not that confident, so if you're overconfident that'll irritate others and make them uncomfortable. And if you lack any confidence, why should anyone admire you? It must be a combination of confidence and "I can make it with a little help from my friends". This way, you don't threaten ego or bring out insecurities of others while being confident yourself. People will admire you without feeling inferior themselves. Charisma is an iron fist in a velvet glove.
Difference between faith and belief?
I believe the North Pole exists. Is it my faith? No, it is my belief. As far as the North Pole is concerned, we have evidence, proof and witnesses. Anything that can be proved cannot be called faith. Faith means accepting a conclusion without witnesses, evidence and rationale. Faith is essentially defended by emotions and feelings. So, feelings get hurt if you question it.
People ask me why I am an atheist. I am an atheist because I think. You'll be surprised when I say even the most religious person is 99 per cent an atheist. There are 10 major religions in the world. Out of ten religions, the religious man follows only one religion and regards the other in the same way a rationalist does. The only time he thinks differently is when it comes to his own religion. The main difference between a religious man and an atheist is that he's rational when it comes to nine religions, and we are rational in all ten.
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From a narrative standpoint, I found the drafting and lobbying up the Copyright Amendment Bill around the end (pg 175) THE most thrilling not simply because it was one of the longer and more detailed bits or the scale and importance of it - but also because very rarely do we get to read the first-hand accounts of workings within the government. What I found most surprising was that being the name he is, Javed Akhtar had support from top names in both Congress (Sonia Gandhi, Sibbal, etc.) and BJP (Jaitley, Sushma Swaraj) for the passing of the bill, yet it almost seemed like an impossibility up till the very end. I could go on to describe the whole thing, but it's better read in the book. All I'll say is, that I was reading the bit aloud with my sister as well - and we were both absorbed all the way through, feeling this story alone could make a movie.
All in all, I'd certainly recommend this book to folks who are fans of Javed Akhtar, Bollywood, Cinema, or any other artistic medium - but even if you aren't, Talking Life is still a worthwhile and engaging read.
A more detailed follow-up to the earlier 'conversational biography' that Nasreen Munni Kabir did with Javed Akhtar, this one has a more in-depth look at his childhood and relationships as well as his worldview. It also has a mellower view of life, while being a lot more open about his partnership with Salim Khan. For the first time, he explains in detail the division of work in their legendary partnership. There is a lovely section (of about 4 pages) where he explains the various types of Urdu poetry. It is a wonderful window to his photographic memory, his erudition, as well as his lifelong passion for poetry. Overall, a great read for lovers of the written word and moving images.
I enjoyed reading parts, especially the stories from his childhood and early days as a script writer - though there could be more from his later life. For a 78 year old, Javed Akhtar seems remarkably young at heart and his wit was refreshing to read. I'm also convinced I'm not a huge fan of this freewheeling chat / interview style (which works better for podcasts). I much prefer the memoir / biography format; hence 3.5 rounded to 3 stars.
It is an easy read due to its interview format. Javed sahib is the finest intellectuals of my generation. This book gives insight into his difficult childhood & his struggles as a young man who rose like a phoenix.