It was some time in 2009. Or was it 2010? The year doesn't matter. The memory of that moment does. I was in the production control room of NDTV when the sight of a tall, ruddy man in a spotless white Lucknowi chikan kurta walking into the adjoining studio as though magically faded out all the noise in that high-pressure chamber. The director's shouts, the producer's frantic last-minute instructions, the audio and vision mixers' suggestions - all became a faint buzz in the background. That Farooq Sheikh would inspire such awe came as a surprise as I stood there, rooted, watching this calm actor participate in a panel discussion with a grace that one seldom, if at all ever, sees in television news shows today.
Later, when I rushed out to shake his giant hand, he appeared genuinely surprised. Sheikh, who entered the world of films as a quiet, submissive boy in MS Sathyu's Garam Hawa and who, in the four decades since, gave a range of remarkable performances, never quite crossed that line which separates an actor from a star. He wasn't the kind women would write letters to in blood, like they did for Rajesh Khanna. Traffic wouldn't come to a standstill if he was spotted on the road, like it did for Amitabh Bachchan. Sheikh knew that he wasn't, what many would define as, "commercially viable". But what an actor he was! The sincere, lovable chap of Sai Paranjape's Chashme Baddoor could play the scoundrel of Katha (also a Paranjape film) with equal ease. Or as Aqueel, enact a very convincing Casanova in Satyajit Ray's Shatranj Ke Khiladi. Or come across as an endearing, though weak, Nawab who cannot stand up for his love (Rekha) in Muzaffar Ali's Umrao Jaan.
Farooq Sheikh was the thinking director's choice. Here was a rare understated, restrained actor who could get under the skin of a character. So they sought him out. Sheikh was always interested in acting but as a qualified lawyer, he had intended to follow in the footsteps of his successful lawyer father, Mustafa Shaikh. That was before he got introduced to Sathyu who was looking for people who would act in his film, Garam Hawa, without being too fussy about money or dates. To be able to get noticed in the film which has a stalwart like Balraj Sahni as its lead character is no small achievement. But then, it is impossible to ignore Farooq Sheikh. It was then. It is now. After seeing his performance in Garam Hawa, Satyajit Ray waited for him to return from Canada so that he could cast him in his film, Shatranj Ke Khiladi.
Which is why, first-time director Mrityunjay Devvrat says when "Farooq sa'ab agreed to do my film, it sent my confidence sky-rocketing and I knew we (he and his raw film crew) were on the right track". Devvrat's film, The Bastard Child, which releases in January 2014, will see Farooq Sheikh give his final performance. The film's trailers show that he has yet again proved his mettle as an actor. The stark film based on the 1971 war, which saw the creation of Bangladesh, has Sheikh playing a learned zamindar (landlord) from East Pakistan who inspires the youth to fight the Pakistan army back. "He carries with him the persona of a powerful, classy human being and he brings that to this film even in all its rawness," says Devvrat. "His personality went beyond awesomeness."
For a first-time crew, having an actor of Sheikh's stature in the midst could have been disconcerting. "But, he was always supportive and patient, even through the delays. He would advise and guide and painstakingly discuss the scenes," says Devvrat, who spoke with Sheikh only two days ago. The 30-year-old director recalls an incident when his father had a heart surgery but he couldn't make it to the hospital because of the film's pressing schedule. "Farooq sa'ab came to me with honey and an ayurvedic medicine which, he said, would be beneficial for my father. He genuinely cared for people," says Devvrat. "He also called up my father, asked him about his favourite film Chashme Baddoor and sent a signed DVD of the film for him." The one thing about Sheikh which Devvrat says he will always miss is his 'adaab'. "Every SMS, every meeting started and ended with 'adaab'. He had that tehzeeb (etiquette), that 'lehja' (demeanour) about everything - the way he spoke, the way he walked, the way he conducted himself."
Sheikh once said, "I have no great desire to be remembered after I am gone." But that is not likely to happen.
Later, when I rushed out to shake his giant hand, he appeared genuinely surprised. Sheikh, who entered the world of films as a quiet, submissive boy in MS Sathyu's Garam Hawa and who, in the four decades since, gave a range of remarkable performances, never quite crossed that line which separates an actor from a star. He wasn't the kind women would write letters to in blood, like they did for Rajesh Khanna. Traffic wouldn't come to a standstill if he was spotted on the road, like it did for Amitabh Bachchan. Sheikh knew that he wasn't, what many would define as, "commercially viable". But what an actor he was! The sincere, lovable chap of Sai Paranjape's Chashme Baddoor could play the scoundrel of Katha (also a Paranjape film) with equal ease. Or as Aqueel, enact a very convincing Casanova in Satyajit Ray's Shatranj Ke Khiladi. Or come across as an endearing, though weak, Nawab who cannot stand up for his love (Rekha) in Muzaffar Ali's Umrao Jaan.
Farooq Sheikh was the thinking director's choice. Here was a rare understated, restrained actor who could get under the skin of a character. So they sought him out. Sheikh was always interested in acting but as a qualified lawyer, he had intended to follow in the footsteps of his successful lawyer father, Mustafa Shaikh. That was before he got introduced to Sathyu who was looking for people who would act in his film, Garam Hawa, without being too fussy about money or dates. To be able to get noticed in the film which has a stalwart like Balraj Sahni as its lead character is no small achievement. But then, it is impossible to ignore Farooq Sheikh. It was then. It is now. After seeing his performance in Garam Hawa, Satyajit Ray waited for him to return from Canada so that he could cast him in his film, Shatranj Ke Khiladi.
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Farooq Sheikh's films were a part of life for a generation that has grown up in the '70s and the '80s. His were films that put quality before quantity. After Yash Chopra's Noorie, where he stars opposite Poonam Dhillon, he could have gone the movies-for-the-masses way and made pots and pots of money. The film was a roaring success, even though it's not a patch on his more discerning films like Bazaar and Gaman. It's a good thing that Sheikh didn't fall in that trap. He was known to choose his films very carefully.
Which is why, first-time director Mrityunjay Devvrat says when "Farooq sa'ab agreed to do my film, it sent my confidence sky-rocketing and I knew we (he and his raw film crew) were on the right track". Devvrat's film, The Bastard Child, which releases in January 2014, will see Farooq Sheikh give his final performance. The film's trailers show that he has yet again proved his mettle as an actor. The stark film based on the 1971 war, which saw the creation of Bangladesh, has Sheikh playing a learned zamindar (landlord) from East Pakistan who inspires the youth to fight the Pakistan army back. "He carries with him the persona of a powerful, classy human being and he brings that to this film even in all its rawness," says Devvrat. "His personality went beyond awesomeness."
For a first-time crew, having an actor of Sheikh's stature in the midst could have been disconcerting. "But, he was always supportive and patient, even through the delays. He would advise and guide and painstakingly discuss the scenes," says Devvrat, who spoke with Sheikh only two days ago. The 30-year-old director recalls an incident when his father had a heart surgery but he couldn't make it to the hospital because of the film's pressing schedule. "Farooq sa'ab came to me with honey and an ayurvedic medicine which, he said, would be beneficial for my father. He genuinely cared for people," says Devvrat. "He also called up my father, asked him about his favourite film Chashme Baddoor and sent a signed DVD of the film for him." The one thing about Sheikh which Devvrat says he will always miss is his 'adaab'. "Every SMS, every meeting started and ended with 'adaab'. He had that tehzeeb (etiquette), that 'lehja' (demeanour) about everything - the way he spoke, the way he walked, the way he conducted himself."
Sheikh once said, "I have no great desire to be remembered after I am gone." But that is not likely to happen.