And being at the top they were in on everything and everyone that happened along the way.

Knowing them as I did over the years, Raj Kapoor who was intent on burning his life at both ends would have never had the passion to record his life. Dilip, aloof and withdrawn, would not have stooped to tell.

One could be forgiven, hence, for having great expectations for Dev Anand’s book.

I had met him first over 40 years ago when he came to Bangalore for the release of Guide. I met him earlier this month at the Bangalore Club when he had come here on his whirlwind tour of the country and elsewhere for the release of his book. Physically he had shrunk showing his 84 years but the gift of gab was totally intact.

That is the most striking part of him, his almost limitless energy. He has taken to the promotion of his book on a scale far greater than any he has done for his films. Sad to say that the book also is written like a film script. The first 50 pages are written on his life as a flashback as he travels in a train away from Gurudaspur to Bombay in search of a career. The very first actress he gets to act with is Khushid, the great singing star of the 40s.

There is no one alive who has done that and if one hopes to learn something about her one is sorely disappointed. And that sad story repeats again and again. There were so many wonderful artistes, music directors, directors, lyricists, cinematographers, sound recordists whose names were legion during his time in films and he was in the ring leader’s chair. Either he is so self-obsessed that he cannot see anyone else but himself or he is too circumspect to mention anything ‘personal’ about others.

Less is more?
He says that he gets inspired by his mirror image. And yet a few vignettes escape into print. The time when he got high on feni and ran into the sea holding hands with Geeta Bali and did not heed the ‘cut’ call of director Guru Dutt and almost drowned. Later, driving back in the night with Geeta and her sister, he slept on the wheel and crashed and nearly died.

Tantalisingly there is little about that great actress — ‘full of life’, Madhubala — ‘giggling’, Nargis — ‘dignified’. And nothing at all about Kamini Kaushal, Usha Kiron, Meena Kumari, Nutan, Waheeda Rehman, Bina Rai etc and he had acted with every one of them.

Only three women get space. Suraiya and the affair that got stymied by her grand mother, Mona or Kalpana Kartik (the woman he married) and Zeenat Aman with whom he was in love and was bitterly hurt when she opted out of his life for Raj Kapoor — who else?  No wonder that no male actor gets any space except for Raj Kapoor and that with anger and frustration as the drunken man grabs his lady love.

As for all the technicians there is nothing save for Guru Dutt who is sent away without any mention as to why and how he died. I happened to have known both his brothers — Chetan and Vijay or Goldie. Dev says he was bitterly disappointed when Chetan wished to make films on his own outside of Navketan but he has no compunction about sidelining Goldie from direction after he had given him some of his best films — Guide, Tere Mere Sapne, Johnny Mera Naam.

I met Goldie when he was struggling to make a film after Dev took over his own direction.
He died before the film got a release. Goldie was much the better director and there were many good films in him. He was sacrificed for the utterly ordinary efforts of Dev Anand as a director except for Hare Rama Hare Krishna.
It is one of the miracles of Bollywood that Dev Anand continues to make film after film which with metronome regularity bomb at the box office. Unfortunately he is what is known as a ‘Personality Actor’. Surfeit with cliches he is himself no matter what the role.

Since he writes like he talks, which in itself is a great asset, his book is an easy read which tells a lot about the man but very little about the wonderful world he lived in for such a long time.

It does not even qualify as a coffee tabler as almost all the photographs are stock shots from his films. More is the pity.

M  Bhaktavatsala