Pursuits: For a few years, Dev was the coolest star in Bombay, a guy we could relate to

In my mind, there were always two Dev Anands.

Because I grew up in Bombay and my parents had friends within the film industry, I saw many of the big stars of the Sixties up close.

Dev Anand was one of them.

 

   So, long before Dev became a filmi presence in my life, he was a real person who came to my house. But unlike, say, Dilip Kumar who was a close friend of my father’s, Dev was not the sort of person who ever had much interest in the children of his friends. So today, when I search my memory for childhood recollections of Dev Anand, I find that I can only recall the obvious things: the parties at Sun and Sand hotel in Juhu where Dev had a permanent suite, his elegant wife Mona (Kalpana Kartik was her stage name), movie premieres, my excitement at seeing two Uncle Devs in the same scene in Hum Dono (Dev played a double role) and Dev Anand’s elegant clothes (he was always much better dressed than his contemporaries).

 

   Later, long after my father died, I came to know Dev Anand professionally. We met often. I did many interviews for print and TV. And I even covered the fiasco of the National Party, the political party he tried to launch in 1979 as an alternative to the Congress.

 

   In my mind, this Dev Anand --- the real one who I interviewed --- was a continuation of the guy I remembered from my childhood. The clothes were no longer so elegant --- he wore shirts with strange high collars to hide his ageing neck ---- and he paid me more attention than he had during my childhood. But he was recognizably the same man.

 

   But there was also a second Dev Anand. And that was the man I saw on screen.

 

   Truth be told, I was never a great Dev Anand fan. He was not the world’s finest actor and I suspect he realized this, taking care to chose for himself --- from the Seventies onwards, at least – roles that did not require great histrionic ability. I don’t think he made a single watchable film after Des Pardes (which came out in 1977 or so) and by the end, his mannerisms had became like a caricature of the younger Dev Anand.

 

   But there was one phase – in the early Seventies --- when Dev Anand actually meant a lot to people of my generation. This was the time when Hindi cinema was in the midst  of a transition. Raj Kapoor’s Mera Naam Joker had failed. Dilip Kumar’s Dastaan had been dismal. A new generation of stars ----- first Rajesh Khanna and then, by 1974, Amitabh Bachchan --- had emerged.

 

   Only Dev managed to ride out the transition. While many of us found Rajesh Khanna with his twinkly-eyes, double-breasted shirts (yes, he wore shirts that were double-breasted!) and his penchant for singing songs to elephants desperately uncool, we were surprised (or at least I was surprised) to find that Uncle Dev suddenly seemed like the epitome of timeless cool.

 

   His Johnny Mera Naam was probably the slickest thriller that had ever been made in Bombay up to that point. And Hare Ram Hare Krishna seemed to us to capture an emerging Westernised Indian ethos. All of us were in love with Dev’s discovery, the American-educated Zeenat Aman (who smoked cigarettes and wore bell-bottoms) and we loved the fact that Dev, who had always had a ear for music, had commissioned RD Burman to write a score that incorporated Western instruments and rock riffs.

 

   Nothing symbolized that era better than the hit song Dum Maro Dum. If you hear it today, it still has a certain power even though the arrangement seems slightly basic now. (Nevertheless, the original Dum Maro Dum is still vastly superior to the modern version that came out earlier this year in the movie of the same name). But at the time, the effect it had on young people (I was 15 when I first heard it ) was electrifying. Here, for once, was a Hindi film song that you could listen to along with your rock  records.

 

"Now that he’s gone, I miss the real Dev Anand. But at least when it comes to the cool Dev Anand, I have the movies. And they’ll never go away."

   That Dev – the guy who ruled from Johnny Mera Naam to Des Pardes --- did not really last. And now, as I see the obituaries, I recognize that this was actually only a very brief phase in a very long career. But for those few years, he was the coolest star in Bombay; a guy we could relate to.

 

   When I re-established contact with the real Dev --- after I became a journalist – I often asked him about that phase. This was a mistake because I soon discovered that Dev did not like looking back. He lived in the present, planned for the future and was irritated by all mention of the past.

 

   My one regret is that I never got him to tell me the truth about Dum Maro Dum. I heard many stories about the origins of the song. One of Dev’s associates told me that in the original script of Hare Ram Hare Krishna, the Zeenat character (Janice) did not have such a big role and that, at the end, she was revealed to be A Bad Person. So Dum Maro Dum was written as a song for the vamp. (Remember Mumtaz, who  Dev was originally involved with, was the film’s heroine.)

 

   Then, Dev fell for Zeenat and the script was rewritten, Zeenat’s role was increased, Mumtaz’s role was cut and “Janice” became A Good Person. Suddenly, Dum Maro Dum was not the vamp’s song.

 

   This had one immediate consequence. Originally  Usha Uthup was to sing it. But then, Usha was elbowed aside and the song was given to Asha Bhonsle. (A Good Girl needs a Mangeshkar-Bhosle-type voice. A vamp can sound like Usha Uthup!)

 

   Next, the song went on to become a huge craze. At that stage, Dev asked RD Burman if he could sing it. Why should Dev Anand not sing the biggest song in a Dev Anand picture? When this proved impossible, Dev changed the picturisation. If you’ve seen Hare Rama, you will know that the full song is not in the movie. Somewhere in the middle of the song, the scene suddenly changes to Dev looking very solemn and singing “Dekho Tum Diwano……”

 

   Think about it: does this make any sense? Why would a director not show the whole of Dum Maro Dum, the biggest hit of the year? Why would a hit song be immediately followed by a second song? Why have two songs in a row?

 

   Many years later, I spoke to Usha Uthup and RD Burman and asked Dev what the truth was. Had he really set out to sabotage Dum Maro Dum in a fit of pique? Was he so annoyed that somebody else sang the best song in a Dev Anand movie?

 

   I never got an answer out of him. The real Dev Anand could be infuriatingly obscure, pretending to forget everything about the past, blocking out anything that was not pleasant and acting as though it was all so long ago that it couldn’t possibly matter now.

 

   So, I guess I’ll never know what the truth was.

 

   As for the screen Dev Anand, when it came to the one phase in the career when I thought he was really cool, I could never get the real Dev to even acknowledge that the phase had ever existed. Instead he would talk about whatever rubbish picture he was currently working on (Lootmar, Swami Dada  and God only knows what else) and refuse to discuss the past.

 

   Now that he’s gone, I miss the real Dev Anand. But at least when it comes to the cool Dev Anand, I have the movies. And they’ll never go away.