The Woman We Love to Hate

Yet when you sit in her boudoir dominated by designer leopard-print chairs and tiger-print tablecloths — at the Thackeray residence Matoshree — the words tumble out unbidden, revealing a different picture. Perhaps it’s because she’s just back home from the funeral of a family friend. But from beneath the carefully contrived image of a confident, in-control public figure, emerges a vulnerable 43-year-old woman.

Would you believe that Smita Thackeray is a single parent who spends sleepless nights worrying about the future of her sons Rahul (15) and Aishwarya (6)? An eager producer who’d like to see her face on the silver screen? And a lonely person who often yearns for a companion?

“I miss my personal life. Sometimes, I feel that I need a companion, a shoulder to lean on. I jerk myself out of such thoughts because I cannot let my guard down, I cannot be weak. What will happen to my children then? Who will look after them?” she says wistfully.

Is this the woman people love to hate? Much of the negative reaction Smita evokes is possibly because of her stupendous power within the Sena. Meticulously groomed by Sena chief Bal Thackeray, she is said to be immensely influential despite the rise of his son Uddhav and nephew Raj in the hierarchy. Her apparent power scares off people. Sainiks, in particular, are wary. As a senior Sena leader observed dramatically, “Why are you writing about Smita Thackeray? No one in the Sena will talk to you after this.” She’s aware of the reactions she evokes. “I have more critics than anyone else,” she says with a shrug, “maybe they feel insecure about my confidence.”

Smita’s story started when the passport office receptionist fell in love with, and married, Jaidev Thackeray almost two decades ago. Her close-knit, progressive family was taken aback by her decision. Parents Kunda and Madhukar Chitre cautioned her to be careful. “The Thackeray family was way above our league,” says her father, a retired employee of Premier Automobiles.

After the wedding she tried her best to fit in with the conservative household. The western cuts in her wardrobe were replaced with ethnic outfits. “My mother-in-law was keen on the bahus wearing only saris or salwar kameezes. So though I was more comfortable in trousers and skirts, I reserved those for my foreign trips.”

After the initial euphoria of marriage wore off, the restless Smita opened a boutique, Nari. However, upheaval on the personal front did not allow her to pay attention to the venture, which she eventually wound up.

Keeping her marriage on track was hell. The final estrangement, when it came, made it to the top of every coffee table conversation.

“It was difficult to acknowledge that I was having problems. We married for love so how could we be having problems? My mother-in-law always reminded me that I must not walk out of the house. I had to respect the mangalsutra I wore. So I stayed on and my husband moved out.” Today, there is no mangalsutra in sight —three gold chains, one with a coral pendant of Lord Ganesha, adorn her neck.

“My life stretched ahead of me. I wanted to earn my own money, but I had to cultivate the right mannerisms to venture out.” So she set about mastering English. “I would stand in front of the mirror and talk in English. I perfected my mannerisms there too and I learnt the right pronunciations after hearing people talk. With practice, I have gained much confidence now,” she says. It’s obvious in her every gesture, from the way she reclines diva-like, letting the impact of what she’s just said sink in, to the light manicured touch emphasising a point.

Along with her single status came other problems —her name started getting linked to the men she interacted with. The most publicised “affair” was with singer Sonu Nigam. One day you heard she had run away with him, the next you heard she married him.

“There have been so many rumours about me. It was the worst phase of my life. Sonu Nigam is a very good friend and extremely innocent. We are very close. I needed a shoulder to lean on and unburden myself. Though he had a steady girlfriend the focus was only on me. Now that he is married, people have shifted their gaze,” she says.

About rumours of other outrageous affairs she says: “I have been targeted and maligned with the worst kind of rumours. My character assasination was done in the worst possible way so that the public would question my morals. Someone who wants me thrown out of Matoshree started these rumours and to date has continued them. It has hurt me very deeply. Nothing worse can happen in my life.”

From rock bottom, the only way was up. Spirituality, reiki, meditation, she tried it all. “Now I talk to God very regularly.” In the months that followed, the transition from abandoned wife to power producer was astounding. “Smita Chitre would not have made a difference. The name Thackeray does. My surname has made a lot of difference, it is because of my surname and my father-in-law I have reached where I am. Otherwise who would have entertained any request from me,” she says.

Her entry into the film industry (she turned producer with Govinda-starrer Haseena Maan Jayegi) also brought on a new consciousness about her looks and grooming. She signed on for a rigorous diet and exercise programme (she did not want to reveal details), got herself a designer and stylist and created a new image.

Clad in stylishly-cut white parallel pants and a kurta, she’s come a long way. These days, when the going gets tough, she just meditates. That’s quite often too, she admits. “I am an extremely sensitive person so I hurt easily and deeply. I take criticism as a challenge and never miss any opportunity to prove my critics wrong.”

Music is another way to destress. This science graduate from Ruparel College in suburban Mumbai even learnt classical music for four years. “I love singing, but now I only do it in the bathroom. Music is my passion. When I am depressed I listen to music. I am very fond of jazz, Buddha Bar and the Enigma kind of music. I wanted to learn classical dance but that has remained an unfulfilled dream. I wanted a daughter very much too but that is another unfulfilled dream.”

Time with her children is also special. At least one meal is eaten together where details of the day are shared. She does have her share of fears though. “I have to look after myself, I have to keep fit. If something happens to me who will look after my children? I lie awake at nights pondering on this. I fear for my children’s future.”

She’s ensured she has a strong support system though. Her parents have shifted residence to be close to her, and look after her children. “She needs us, she depends on Saheb (Thackeray), me and her mother. We go over to her place and be with the children so that she does not have any worries on that front,” said her father.

What are her future plans? “Films. I have received many offers to act. If I get a strong woman centric subject, I will definitely act in films.” What about politics? “I am very interested in politics. I do not know what the circumstances hold, if it warrants I may join politics.” However her father is sceptical: “She will be a very successful politician but she will not join it. Smita started her social work to steer clear of politics. Saheb’s children are in politics and she wants to avoid any clashes within the family.”

Why has she taken on so many things? “I will never be a parasite. I need money for my survival. This phase of my life and all that I do is for my identity. If I have an identity my children will have one,” she says. “This is my legacy for them.”