Conversations with Waheeda Rehman by Nasreen Munni Kabir, Waheeda Rehman

don’t know if you know this, but I was supposed to play Amitabh’s mother in Karan’s film. I shot for a day, but on that same day my husband fell very ill and had to be admitted to hospital. So I pulled out of
K3G
.
    NMK: I didn’t realize you were cast in the film. That would have been interesting.
    Coming back to film photography,
K3G
and most Indian movies are now beautifully shot in colour. But I think it’s a real shame that young audiences are just not attracted to black-and-white films any more. They’re happy to see old song clips on television, but would they go to the cinema to see an old classic on the big screen? This is more or less true of young audiences around the world.
    I am sure you will agree with me that the black-and-white film has a more textured and cinematic mood. It also evokes nostalgia and the past.
    WR: Things have to change. I like films in colour, but I agree black-and-white films had a more textured atmosphere. Dramatic moments could also be brought out in a far more interesting way.
    That said, Dwarka Divecha who photographed
Dil Diya Dard Liya
, and Fali Mistry who shot
Guide
did a great job despite the technical limitations of their era. I was lucky to have worked with them and other gifted cinematographers like V.K. Murthy, Jal Mistry, Faredoon A. Irani and Subrata Mitra in
Teesri Kasam
. They were all excellent and worked well in black and white and colour.
    NMK: It is clear that you are very aware of how films are made. Have you ever considered directing?
    WR: I had an offer from the Barjatyas once. Some time ago they were planning to ask artists of our generation to direct a film. I said no because I thought it would be hard work. It wasn’t that I was scared of hard work—I still am not. But perhaps I wasn’t confident of doing justice to a film.
    I did start to have a better understanding of film-making once I had made my third or fourth film—I knew about frame compositions, camera movements and angles, the different kinds of shots, etc. But all this took time to understand. I think I have a good story sense, and can make constructive suggestions. I know more or less what works and how to make some scenes better. My problem is that I am too logical and Hindi cinema does not bother much about logic.
    I remember asking my film directors: ‘How is this scene possible? How can this character do this?’ I always got the same answer: ‘We have to exaggerate and elaborate. If we stick to logic, the film won’t be interesting and it will not run.’

    On the sets of
Guide
. Circa 1964.
    NMK: It would be fascinating to see a film directed by you. I have always wondered if actors make good directors because they know the difficulties of performing a scene—how to make it work.
    What would a director say to you that was the most helpful when approaching a scene?
    WR: I wanted the directors to explain things clearly. I could grasp things very quickly and worked by instinct. But my weak point was my voice. My voice modulation was not very good.Some directors said I spoke my lines too quickly. They would ask me to talk slower and pause at certain points. Otherwise I don’t think they needed to instruct me in detail.
    An actor’s voice is very important, especially on the stage, where you must have the ability to throw your voice well. In films you can convey mood—angry, happy or shy—through silent expressions. I am not saying film acting is only about silent expressions because dialogue delivery is important too. But I was well aware I didn’t have a beautiful voice like Meena Kumari or Dilip Saab. They were great actors with great voices and diction.
    NMK: Were you ever tempted to act on the stage?
    WR: I was very keen. Shashi Kapoor used to run Prithvi Theatre, and I asked him if we could do a play together. He thought it was a good idea, but he was extremely busy. People forget just how popular he was. He made several films at the same time and worked two or three shifts a