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The winning vamp

I was overwhelmed -- not only had Nadira agreed to an interview, she was actually quite enthusiastic about the whole idea. Unfortunately, her cheerful mood did not last very long. The maid servant, who was to turn up at 10.30 am, was late. Meanwhile, a messenger from the unit of the television serial Aankhen arrived with two handwritten pages of dialogue which she was expected to memorise for the shooting later that day.

Nadira is a disciplined person who likes an organised life. Why was the maid late? What would she do if the maid did not turn up? Why was the script so hazy? How could she bring out the emotions which were needed for the scene?

Our interview had been progressing in fits and starts. The former siren of the Indian screen, who began her career as a heroine but made history as a vamp, did not hide her irritation at the disorderly life around her. She found the television script devoid of logic. "Everything is so unprofessional," she grumbled. "You just can't face the camera and emote without adequate preparation."

The discipline, hard work and dedication which mark Nadira's life were inherited from her mother. Born into an orthodox Maharashtrian-Jewish family, Nadira's parents divorced when she was just four. Nadira, christened Farhal Ezekil, was brought up by her maternal grandparents. Her mother fell in love with another man and left her husband for him. But, after the birth of a son, the second husband threw her out and she was forced to live by herself.

"My younger brother and I were quite happy with our grandparents," recalled Nadira. "But mother was lonely and miserable so we went back to her." Her mother had a job with a Royal Air Force unit -- a job she lost after India became free. The family had a tough time. "I really did not know how mother managed," says Nadira.

I used to show all my bruises to St Anthony's statue in school and ask him to forgive my mother

Yet she did, with an iron hand at that. Nadira studied at St Anthony's Convent and was a good and popular student. Though a Jew, she was influenced by Christianity and knew all its prayers. Her orthodox mother often thrashed her for this. "I used to show all my bruises to St Anthony's statue in school and ask him to forgive my mother."

Her mother, though strict disciplinarian, saw to it that her children did not lack anything. "We never had second-hand books or old pens or pencils. It was always the best for us," recalled Nadira. Yet, when her bubbly daughter got her third double promotion in school, Nadira's mother asked the school authorities to cancel it because she feared it would go her head. "The double promotion would have meant saving of one year's tuition fees," says Nadira. "But mother had her say and would not be swayed."

Nadira was highly popular in school; the boys considered her a yaar and came to her defence if anyone teased her. She participated in dramatics and, when she was 12, played Judas in a school play. And, when the girl who was to play Mary did not turn up, Nadira volunteered to play her role too.

She passed her SSC exam with flying colours. One day, in 1949, while sheltering from a thunderstorm in a building, she was spotted by the wife of famed director Mehboob Khan. Khan was then planning a technicolour extravaganza, Aan. Nargis, who was to play the lead, could not give him dates and he was on the lookout for a new face.

"I was flabbergasted; I had no acting experience. I did not know a thing about Hindi films," says Nadira. She had only seen two movies, Laila Majnu and Mirza Sahib. And she had not been photographed even once. "Not even by a Brownie camera," she grins. Her mother was dismayed -- she wanted Nadira to settle down and marry a nice boy.

After a great deal of persuasion, and considering the family's financial situation, Nadira's mother reluctantly agreed. Since Nadira was a minor, she signed the contract with Khan. Nadira was to be paid Rs 1,200 a month, an unheard of amount in those days.

"Mehboob Khan's wife groomed me for stardom," says Nadira. "She taught me how to dress, put on make-up; she even bought me my first well-fitting bra." Nadira attended story sessions, learnt horse riding but, somehow, Khan forgot to pay her for three months. This dawned on him when he found Nadira wearing the same clothes for days together. He gave her Rs 3,600. The family splurged buying clothes, jewellery, furniture... "And mutton, chicken and fish," smiles Nadira.

Aan was a romantic film in which a common man fights against royal tyranny and, in the process, falls in love with the haughty princess (Nadira). Today, Nadira finds Khan's direction techniques old-fashioned. "He told me that, to be haughty, I had to glare at people. That what I did throughout the film. So much so, I feared my eyeballs would pop out!"

Dilip Kumar, Hindi cinema's number one hero in those days, was Nadira's co-star. For the first six days of the shoot, he spoke to her normally; though he often used big words which she did not understand. On the seventh day, he made a statement she did not deserve, "You are the most despicable character I have ever met!"

"I smiled at him," said Nadira. "I did not know the meaning 'despicable' and thought he was paying me a compliment. When I went home and referred to the dictionary, I realised what he really meant. Since then, we don't talk to each other. Today, whenever we meet, Dilipsaab pats me on the back and cracks jokes. But I have not forgotten the word 'despicable'."

Continued: 'My problem is that I get too involved with whatever I am doing'