Junior 'G':Jeetendra (4/7)
sha...@vax.sbu.ac.uk
Jeetendra.
I was just fourteen when I met Ravi. But we seriously started
courting two years later. I was still in school when Farz was
released.
We were part of this group of four girls and four boys. The
other three couples were already going steady, and when they
realised that Ravi and I were seeing each other regularly they
predicted doom for me. Everyone said he'd ditch me, as he had
quite a reputation of being a flirt. But ironically, the three
pairs eventually broke off and our relationship culminated in
marriage.
I didn't mind him working in films, but he was working with a
lot of beautiful women and I was very, very possessive.
Possessiveness has nothing to do with age. If you care, you
remain possessive. I am, even today.
After matriculation, I joined college but soon quit on getting
the job as an air-hostess with British Airways. I was away
from Bombay for long periods of time -- sometimes for 18 days
at a stretch. So, I was removed from the scene of crime, so to
say. But when I returned, I'd hear a lot of stories about
Ravi's flirtatious and over-enthusiastic ways with women.
Paradoxically, as I learnt to understand him better, I
realised the he prefers male company to female. I am not
talking about the physical aspect. In that sense he may feel
very comfortable with other women. But he feels a relaxing
sense of camaraderie only with men and yes, with me.
In those days, however, I got insanely suspicious and we'd
have massive rows over the phone. But everytime, somehow or
the other he managed to convince me that he cared for me.
Whenever I came back from one of those long trips, he'd always
be with me. He sent his car to the airport and called me to
the studio, where he was shooting. Now, I realise that at
those times, his female co-stars were generally not around. I
wonder how he managed that. I felt secure and convinced till I
returned from another flight. Then those suspicions reared
their ugly head again. I used to get anonymous phone calls
warning me about his Casanova ways. Looking back, I'm amazed
how these calls affected me. They drove me mad, played havoc
with my life. More than his so-called affairs, it was my mind
that tormented me. That was a very turbulent phase.
Even after marriage, for the first two years, I kept on
feeling he wasn't completely mine. There were rumours about
his affairs with his co-stars, but I never caught a
surreptitious look or a wayward phone call -- like he never
guiltily disconnected the line on seeing me and he always came
home on time. In fact, I couldn't ever get any concrete
evidence to show that he was unfaithful to me.
He always had a way of assuring me of his feelings. He lived
in Pali Hill and I, at Colaba, before marriage. After hours of
shooting, he'd drive all the way, late at night, and come to
see me. My parents wouldn't allow me to go out with him alone.
However, after joining British Airways, I had become bold and
even a little aggressive. I told my parents that he'd driven
all the way from Bandra, so I would at least go down, sit in
his car and talk to him, whether they liked it or not. But
otherwise, we always moved around in a group -- my brother
Ramesh (Ravi and he are the best of friends now) and his
girlfriend (who he eventually married), my sister and her
boyfriend(whom she married) and the two of us. So, although we
went around for ten years, we hardly spent much time alone.
His parents were not in favour of our marriage. Not that they
had any objections to me personally. They thought Ravi and I
were incompatible. Because of the heated arguments that the
two of us constantly had. We fought relentlessly almost
everyday because of my blinding over-possessiveness. We still
argue very often. Now, the children too get involved in them.
Ektaa, being a girl, is growing closer to me. Sometimes, she
says, "See how he (Ravi) talks to you. I hate it when he yells
at you." When I admit I too screamed at him, she says, "That's
allright, but I don't like it when he raises his voice."
Today, we're never sullen after our argument. The next minute
we are talking to each other. There's no juvenile carrying
forward of a flash of temper for hours or days.
Anyway, at one point, Ravi and I decided it was high time we
got married and end the arguments once and for all. One thing
was certain, he wanted to marry me, his parents approving or
not. He made me resign my job and the date was fixed at April
13, of the year 1973. But all of a sudden, his father had to
undergo a major operation on the 11th. Our marriage was
postponed and then we couldn't, oneway or the other, get
married, for a year and a half. I didn't have a job and Ravi's
career was going through a lean phase. I was getting very
insecure. He remained depressed during those days and didn't
want to get married when he wasn't feeling good within. I
could understand his feelings. His capabilities were being
questioned, he was striving to prove his worth to the world
and himself, the mood was one of anxiety, low morale, shaky
confidence. He didn't want to do something that in normal
circumstances could give him great joy, in this atmosphere of
gloom. He wanted to be happy when he got married. Because
marriage to him is sacred. It isn't a tomfoolery, hence
everything had to be done very properly.
He had pinned his hopes on Bidaai. He said, "we'll get married
if Bidaai is successful." If Bidaai would have flopped,
perhaps we wouldn't have tied the knot. Then again, maybe we
would have, because I am not the kind to go around with one
man and marry another. I had to settle down, get married to
him and be done with it.
Bidaai was released on October 18, 1974. It was a hit. On
October 31, we got married. In the morning he told his parents
that he was getting married that evening. They asked him to
wait for a week, so that they could have a grand wedding. But
Ravi refused. He had made up his mind and gave his parents no
choice. The ceremony was conducted at his friend Ashok Soni's
house in Janki Kutir at Juhu. Besides his family and mine (my
mother was in Japan then) there were only Gulzar and Sanjeev
Kumar from the film industry.
After our marriage, Ravi's one or two films clicked but not
many good offers came his way. For a while, he felt that
perhaps marriage was unlucky for him. He tells me everything.
He is not the kind who'd rather keep his troubles to himself
with the idea of not giving tensions to his wife. He doesn't
suffer alone. He shares. Only then can two people be
companions.
However, all my apprehensions and anxieties disappeared after
Ektaa was born. Not that there never again arose a worrying
situation. It did. But there was a marked change in Ravi. I
don't know what fatherhood does to men. He became more
responsible all of a sudden. He was a chain smoker, but on
realising tha the now had a family which was dependant on him,
he gave it up, at one shot. Till today he doesn't smoke except
when he's required to, for a film.
As our married life progressed, our years of living under the
same roof gradually changed to an invaluable togetherness. I
got to know him better. And discovered many facets that I
liked and some that I even admired. He is extremely
considerate. Always comes on the phone when he's at home. He
never tries to avoid people. If he's in the bathroom he goes
to the extent of returning the call even if knows that he
cannot grant the favour asked by the caller.
His concern for the servants is unflagging. If he gets up
early in the morning, he won't ring for his tea. "Why wake
them up at this unearthly hour?" is his reasoning. Sometimes
he asks me to get water for him but won't trouble the servant!
This exasperates me at times, but I can't help appreciating
his concern.
He is very strong-willed. Once he takes a decision, he abides
by it, most effortlessly. To execute a decision is almost
never a punishment for him. And he's conscientious too. Every
year, he does this 40 days Sabarimala fast. Where one has to
live the life of a sanyasi. He carries out all the austerities
from eating the simplest of food once a day to observing
celibacy -- except for wearing the saffron robe whic his not
possible being in films. If we're watching a film at home
during these days and a naughty scene happens to come along,
he fast-forwards it. These 40 days automatically become a
penance for me too. He's not a sportsman. He doesn't enjoy
exercising. But he does it with total concentration because he
believes in keeping himself in good shape. Now, we're building
a gymnasium in the house too.
He's religious. Does his pooja twice a day -- in the morning
and before going to sleep. He still goes to his old building
in Girgaum during Ganapati festival and some of his
acquaintances of those days come to stay in our house, as we
too get an idol for a day and a half. He has not severed his
roots after the intoxicating taste of fame and wealth.
He takes a lot of interest in my work, which also means he
appreciates. And that feels nice. I too often come home with
my tensions and preoccupations which we share. But there are a
few things about him that irritate me, yet, eventually, they
only reveal his inherent goodness that is basic to his nature.
He loves to watch TV all the time. If he's at home, it's on,
since eight in the morning and he just never switches it off -
- irrespective of the language of the programme, he watches
everything. I get awfully irritated. Now, we have a separate
movie room. He goes there whenever I am in no mood to endure
the cacophony.
He never cuts a conversation midway. Sometimes, we want to go
out, but he keeps on talking to whoever has come to see him.
This annoys me. If you're getting late, you can say so to the
person. But Ravi is never impolite. His patience has to be
admired.
Yes, there was this unforgettable crisis during our 17 years
of our married life. It was brought on by Deedar-e-Yaar. It
didn't strain our relationship with each other, it was not a
crisis in that sense, but the financial blackout pervaded our
lives like the pall of doom. Ravi had put all his money into
it and even borrowed from others. Deedar-e-Yaar didn't even
survive the first week. The tension, anxieties and the strain
in relationships with other members of the family was nerve-
wracking. At times it felt as if we'd never pull out of the
abysmal situation we'd been plunged into. Ravi was tense all
the time. But miraculously we managed to tide over this test.
Goodwill once again restored.
Sometimes I wish he was an introvert. He isn't. He says
whatever he feels. What endears him to people is his genuine
curiosity and interest in the person he's meeting or talking
to. That's the way he is. He doesn't pretend. He's with others
as he is at home.
Both of us are headstrong. We need space even while living
together. And we realised this from the beginning. So, we
allowed the other to grow and flower individually. Never tried
to suffocate with too much imposition and congested
togetherness. Otherwise we'd have been bored of each other,
our marriage wouldn't have lasted. In between, Ravi went away
for long periods to Madras -- during his South phase. We saw
one another only on weekends and we eagerly looked forward to
it. I too have my shop and the designing business. In a sense
we're independent. It's our choice and pleasure to be sharing
our lives.
Today, his children matter to him the most. Ektaa is
aggressive and has an open relationship with her father. While
Tushar is quiet and patient. Father and son see a lot of films
together and often sit discussing them late in the night. Ravi
is not pushy by nature, he wouldn't go out of his way to get
coverage in the media. But if he sometimes does so now, it's
because of the children. He wants them to appreciate him as an
actor. They are young and so, harsh in their criticisms of
Ravi. I tell them, wait, give him space, things will happen.
If he talks about them in his interviews, its not because he's
trying to bring them in the limelight. They unconsciously
creep into his thoughts, at all times. He lives through them.
People often say Jeetendra is a bad actor, but I feel , a bad
actor cannot survive three decades in the industry. He has to
be good. Many producers whose films with Ravi have flopped,
still sign him. Because he's likeable, doesn't take undue
advantage of his star status and goes out of his way to help
others.