
THEY are 92 and 89 and in love—with each other, with the stage, with life. Zohra Segal and her younger sister from Pakistan, Uzra Butt—leading ladies from the old Prithvi Theatres—are touring together again. This time, it’s with Aik Thee Nani for the ‘new’ Prithvi Theatre’s 26th festival.
Inside their suburban Mumbai hotel room, in the midst of reunions, there are enquiries about the living and food arrangements for the Bangalore show on November 8. “But I only eat men,” declares Segal. Both women burst into giggles. “Arre, I was merely photogenic but Uzra was a beauty. Gaekwad of Baroda named his favourite mare after her—the horse even slept in his room!” reveals Segal. Butt pipes in, “All my family and fans would bet on Uzra, but she invariably came second.”
Of course, Butt always came first with Prithviraj Kapoor. She met the thespian in 1944 while rehearsing in Mumbai for Khwaja Ahmed Abbas’ Zubeida. “There was a sudden hush and, turning, I saw this handsome, stately figure. I was dumbstruck,” she recalls. He was searching for a Shakuntala, a role that had established actresses like Vanmala and Damayanti Sahani in the running. But he gave Butt a script (“my husband thought I’d be the understudy”) and invited her to a rehearsal. “On the very first day, I’d memorised most of my lines and even picked up the dance steps. He offered me the part, maybe because I was tall for an actress,” says the Uday Shankar-trained artiste, with characteristic modesty.
Segal jumps back into the conversation, saying she joined Kapoor a year later, after her Lahore dance school succumbed to pre-Partition tensions. “My husband was a Hindu and students were withdrawing. Besides, acting was my first love,” she explains. “Papaji (Kapoor) was reluctant at first—I was the older sister but Uzra, the leading lady, was the highest paid. So I joined as dance director.”
Segal’s first role was in Deewar, an allegorical take on Partition. “I played a foreigner who separates two brothers, till a wall is built across their home,” she explains. Butt adds, “It’s the women who finally bring the wall down. Today, we see the two nations bridging differences, and it’s women like us taking the initiative.”
Her first lead role, in Pathan, was another cross-community saga. “I was thrilled to act opposite Papaji. He taught me naturalistic acting and how to use my voice; he also taught me how to live. I used to have my nose in the air. We were from a royal family, and with Uday Shankar, there were first-class tickets and five-star hotels,” says Segal, recalling Kapoor’s code of third-class travel, langar-style meals and mattresses atop trunks.
Butt is equally nostalgic about her 16-year stint with Prithvi Theatres. “Shashi first played my son in Shakuntala. Once, I forgot a line and panicked. He was only five but immediately sensed it and wove my line into his dialogue,” marvels the veteran, who moved to Pakistan after the company disbanded in 1960.
Segal had already left in 1959—first for Delhi, then England—following her husband’s death. The sisters next shared the stage 35 years later for Aik…. Largely based on the actresses’ personal experiences, the play is about long-separated sisters and their contrasting reactions to a granddaughter’s decision to become an actress.
Irrepressibly enthused, Segal breaks into dialogue and Butt takes her cue. Each leads the other through old lines, mock fights and dance moves. Only a lunch appointment with Shashi Kapoor interrupts the impromptu performance. “Just us two old ladies are left now,” sighs Butt. Segal fires back: “You were the one film producers chased. They never offered me a heroine’s role. But I’m still willing. Print that.”


