The infinite grace of Sunil Dutt

It was only a decade later, when I was assigned to do a bio-sketch of the actor, that I discovered him as an individual. During our many conversations, I got glimpses of the man, his movies and his struggles. He narrated, with a twinkle in his eye, the first time he set eyes on future wife, Nargis, on the sets of Mother India at Mehboob Studio. “She was so exquisite…all of us on the sets would stand in the corner and stare at her. After all these years, there has been nobody like her.” He recalled with admiration the genius of Bimal Roy’s films. He spoke passionately about his roles, admitted to often playing a weak man, “but they were always characters with a conscience. Even Ramnath in Gaban and the Magadh emperor in Amrapali. It requires courage to play a buffoon in Padosan.” On a rainy afternoon, spent at his office over coffee and bhajiyas, he recounted tough times when his films were flopping and he had no assignments. Out of the blue came AVM Production’s letter and the signing amount for Main Chup Rahungi. The only condition: Sunil Dutt should start shooting immediately. “I had no money and no hope and even today I believe that the offer was God sent”. With long pauses and great difficulty, he spoke of the time they discovered his wife was terminally ill, her operations in India and abroad and dwindling funds: “She was dying and my banner was getting ready to launch our son for his debut in Rocky…It was her dream to watch her son on screen but much as we tried she did not survive to witness the big moment”. He was insightful about the mother-son relationship:”Theirs was a modern Yashoda-Krishna leela. No matter what proof you conjured about her erring son, she wasn’t willing to face up to his wayward ways.”

Those who knew him well said Sunil Dutt was a changed man after Nargis’s demise. He missed her presence but learnt to cope with dignity. He filled his time by crusading for the downtrodden. As social and later political commitments increased, his film assignments reduced. Filmmakers said it was difficult to cast him as a patriarch because the roles did not justify his off-screen image. This was true. In the last two decades only two films made a mark — both by Yash Chopra: Faasle (’85) and Parampara (’92). His last film, Munna Bhai MBBS, starring his son, was in a strange way reflective of their lives. In ’93, when Sanjay Dutt was arrested under TADA. Sunil Dutt was a broken man. He went every morning to meet his son at Arthur Road jail. One could see that he was trying hard to be brave. “My son has shaped up to be a fine human being,” he told me once. “My only regret is that he did not complete his education. It’s not because I attach importance to degrees but because education instils endurance.”Are you listening, Sanjay Dutt?