Sometime in 1972: three of us, born in the early 50s, were sprawled out on the lawns of RK Studios. Raj Kapoor was filming a scene with Dimple Kapadia inside for Bobby. His son, Rishi Kapoor, or Chintu as we called him, older than me by a year, RK’s assistant director Rahul Rawail and I born the same year, were still in our teens and each of us was on the threshold of a new career. It was Chintu’s first film as hero though not his first outing as an actor -- he had already bagged a National Award for a sparkling performance as infatuated schoolboy Raju in Mera Naam Joker (1970). Rahul Rawail was training under the best to break out as a director on his own steam (incidentally, he was one of the few permitted to attend Chintu’s funeral). And Rishi Kapoor was the first actor I interviewed in my 49-year-old career as journalist.
In the intervening years, even as the iconic RK Studio gave way to a sprawling Godrej property in Chembur, the essentially conservative Chintu saw such a sea-change in life around him that acceptance was the only way to live harmoniously and happily.
As an onlooker to son Ranbir dating (and living with) his girlfriends openly, Rishi would often tell me, “We used to be so shy before taking the first step with a girl. Look at the way Ranbir and his generation are behaving. There’s no aankh ki sharam left in any of them.” But accept it he did, with a marked, ‘Do I have a choice?’ reluctance.
Perhaps the bigger compromise was living with the fact that Ranbir had moved away to an apartment of his own. Prior to that, Chintu used to remark with pride that despite being a star who could easily afford a home of his own, Ranbir still lived with his parents, “In that one room which is his own. I know it’s difficult for him especially when he has his friends over and wants to entertain them. But I’m proud that he still stays with us.” Chintu himself had lived with in his parents’ bungalow in Chembur until his marriage to Neetu Singh.
A day came when ‘Krishna Raj’, the bungalow that Neetu and he had built for themselves and their kids (caringly, with separate rooms in it for his mother Krishna Kapoor and mother-in-law Raji Singh), had to give way to a new social order, Chintu sat with his architects and made plans. He told me that on that big piece of land where their bungalow stood on Pali Hill, he would make two independent homes with two different teams of domestic staff – one for Ranbir and one for Neetu and himself. That way, Ranbir would get to live his life the way he wanted while they would all be sharing the same address.
It was a plan that remained on paper for though the bungalow was demolished and construction work had begun, his sudden tryst with leukemia put paid to Chintu ever seeing the two homes on one plot.
Deep inside, he was a conservative man who thought like his father’s generation did and didn’t want the Kapoor women to become actors. While he watched with zipped-up lips his nieces Karisma and Kareena make careers in the family business, he himself sighed with relief when daughter Riddhima suppressed the talent she had and opted for marriage to please Chintu. In his mind, marriage and an acting career were still mutually exclusive – Babita had wrapped up her life in films to marry Randhir Kapoor and Neetu Singh too had retired prematurely to become Mrs Rishi Kapoor. He was pleased that Neetu fashioned herself into a Kapoor bahu and touched his parents’ feet when she saw them.
But unlike what he believed in, if Rishi had lived for a few years longer, he would perhaps have seen, and had to accept, his daughter-in-law (presumably, Alia Bhatt) continuing with her acting career after marriage to Ranbir.
But that was the essence of Rishi’s life – he lived to see and embrace societal changes, understanding that what he did in his youth was not going to be what Ranbir would do.
And proud he was of Ranbir. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the choices his son made in his career. He didn’t understand why Ranbir didn’t sign up the most commercially safe films and remain a superstar. But Chintu said to me, “Ranbir told me, dad, I don’t want to do films where I’m dancing with 40 others in the background.” The risks Ranbir took as an actor filled Chintu with pride.
Incidentally, way back during Bobby, Chintu had told me that he hated the pet names Dabboo (for Randhir), Chintu (for himself) and Chimpu (for younger brother Rajiv). “I hate all this Chintu-Pintu stuff,” he said to me. “I’ll never give pet names to my children.” He didn’t. Daughter Riddhima and son Ranbir don’t have the usual Punjabi pet names following them.
Chintu was clear-headed about what he liked and what he disliked and made no bones about letting anyone know about them. He liked his drink – almost till the end. He liked his food – he was happy when food arrived at the hospital from his home and even happier to share it.
His father, Raj Kapoor died at 63. Chintu too has gone away in his 60s. It was way too early for both of them to say, ‘Pack up’.
RIP Rishi Kapoor
