Why I regret not being a hardcore Sridevi fan
A true legend is one who stealthily crawls inside your heart, sits there quietly while you discover and rediscover her brilliance slowly, over the years.
For someone born in the 90s, Mr. India was the film which introduced me to the brilliance of Sridevi for the very first time. It was a film worthy of repeat viewing and TV played an important role in cementing my relationship with it, with its frequent reruns of the iconic film. I remember being mesmerized by her fluent expressions - a raised eyebrow, a turned lip and a whacky look that almost betrayed her own self. And these are just a few from her repertoire of emotions which translated so well on screen, as if she were painting with her whole face, albeit in front of the camera.
She flowed seamlessly between a passionate, defiant journalist in the film, a mesmerized girl who’s in awe of this invisible hero, Mr. India and a cheeky woman with a lot of pluck to take the villains head on, by entering their party in disguise and entertaining them with her singing and dancing. Her comic timing on top of everything was what got me hooked to her. Here was an actress who wasn’t merely trying to perfect a scene that’s written on the bound script. She brought to the fore, a dimension which was until then, unseen or even unconceived of by the audience to expect from a leading female superstar! That a superstar has to be glamorous, sexy with a coquettish charm was the norm. But for us to see the same woman be goofy, nonchalant, clumsy and almost unaware of her own feminine aspect was like a game changer. Sridevi filled that gap between a total tomboy image of a woman and an ultra sexy woman whom everyone desires. This woman was the whole package, and this is why the line “kisi ke haath na aayegi yeh ladki” from the film Chaalbaaz aptly describes her.
But, as I write these words, I am reminded of my own unawareness about her legendary films like Sadma (yet to watch this gem of a film). I watched Lamhe, Chaalbaaz, Chandni fairly later in life, when she was pretty much out of the spotlight. Having seen only the popular films of hers, I have a limited knowledge about her work, which is regrettable for a film geek. Yet, the films that I’ve seen were enough to give me an insight to the inner workings of the par excellence actress that she was.
There is a scene in Chaalbaaz where it’s her evil uncles’ birthday and she is shy to come out in the living room where musicians are playing instrumental music. When she is forced to come out by a friend of her uncle, she timidly stands among the guests, trying hard not to dance. But, being extremely fond of dancing, she cannot fight the temptation to dance and breaks into a trance dance routine which had me transfixed on her. The fact that she ends up slapping her evil uncle while dancing made me laugh the hardest. This particular scene might look very mundane to a lot of people, who only see a woman trying to control her inner desire. But, you’ve got to watch that scene again, carefully, where she is mentally dancing, with her feet gently tapping on the floor, yet she doesn’t wish to showcase it to the world. And then, all hell breaks loose because she has to dance for herself, for her own sanity. It’s as deep as one can go to portray a range of emotions and reveal the most potent thoughts through one’s body language.
And then came the sweetest film she’s ever done, English Vinglish, after a hiatus that’s long enough to make people forget an actor. But she started from where she left off, taking us for a ride yet again through her two-drops-of-coffee-in-a-cloud-of-milk eyes. I saw a Sridevi who was still confident about her acting prowess, a little humbled to have got a film like this and a lady who embodied grace. Her ending speech, with that trademark quiver in her voice still makes me cry, even when I know the dialogue by heart. Merely looking at her deliver that dialogue does the trick, again and again and again. And then Adil Hussain dances around her, forcing her to dance, where we see a reserved, shy Sridevi, trying to dodge him. And when she fixes her saree and comes in the center to dance, we know she was only dodging him as she didn’t want to outshine the others, which she did, as she always has.
To see an actor leave even before you get to know their entire body of work is a sad thing. You feel you could have known so much more about them before they left, learnt more about them, their craft and art. Even though I’m not a die hard fan of hers, she has left an indelible mark on me through her work and conduct as a person. Maybe going back to her old works is the only way to redeem myself for not being fully acquainted with the work of an actress who was the brightest star in the industry. Watch out for that star in the night sky now, as it’ll shine brighter than the moon from this day onwards.
