Opinion Ratna Pathak Shah writes: Goodbye Satish, thank you for the laughs

Devastated friends frantically messaged each other: How? When? Who was with him? Where is he now? No one knew how to react. Later, I found out that others had got similar messages at around the same time; all jokes, of course. Spreading good cheer, sitting down to his lunch, feeling confident that he was on his way to full recovery and would soon be able to receive friends, Satish Shah pulled his last gag — he quit.

Flashback: Shooting the title song of Filmi Chakkar (1993–1995) with Satish. I was a novice at comedy, having done just 13 episodes of Idhar Udhar (1985); he was a polished, sharp player, a maestro of the genre, having played 50 different characters in 67 episodes of Yeh Jo Hai Zindagi alone. I quickly realised I had much to learn, and who better to teach than my friend Sats (we have called each other Sats and Rats for years)? He was a tremendously generous actor, who helped not only me but the two young boys (Omkar Kapoor and Kavin Dave) playing our sons, and various other actors in smaller roles. In fact, he was the one behind all the scenes that went well. We were stuck with an inept director, scripts that often were scribbled messes, usually arriving on the day of the shoot with unfunny lines. I remember the four of us — Satish, Vijay Kashyap, Sulabha Arya and I — sitting outside the studio floor where lighting was going on and, along with the writer, trying to fix the scenes we were to shoot that day. It was Satish’s experience in setting up a funny moment, making a scene seem probable even though ridiculous, helping other actors with their timing and never, never hogging the show that made the series the success it was.

For me it was comedy school; I learnt how to time dialogue and land a punchline; how to embrace the silliness and still retain grace and emotion. I was looking for truth in performance; he for how to make an impact. I soon realised that both were necessary (and possible, even in a sitcom) and this process, begun here, found fruition in Sarabhai vs Sarabhai (2004-2006, 2017). When Atish Kapadia (writer, co-director) and J D Majethia told me about the show they were planning, they simply gave me a sketchy brief — it was crazy and different and I immediately said yes. The next question was: “Who’s playing Indravadan?” It was a redundant question because it was a no-brainer that Satish would be playing the role. Sarabhai vs Sarabhai was a magical amalgam of many energies, each bringing their strengths and all resonating together.

For once, Satish could just chill and be himself — totally and happily becoming Hagar the Horrible, his favourite comic strip. Satish had a pet python, which he would dump near unsuspecting visitors to his home. He did that once to Naseer (Naseeruddin Shah) who has a phobia of snakes. Then, he coolly wrapped the poor reptile around him while his mother stared, half in horror and half in amusement, at the creature she had produced. He found crude antics as funny as high wit, as long as there was skill displayed. Everyone felt Satish was never serious; he found the quirky track in each situation; the man no one had ever seen morose or disheartened, despite “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”. Who was Satish when no one was looking, I’ve often wondered. But he, undoubtedly, was the backbone of our Sarabhai family.

We have become a true family. We felt that more keenly in his absence, as we gathered together to send him off on his final journey. We saw him totally silent, the unstoppable, stopped mid-sentence, his mobile face completely still (Did it look peaceful? I’m not sure), and we instinctively turned to Madhu, his wife and partner in every crime for the last 45 years who can barely process what has happened. “Is this really happening?” she asked me, her eyes stunned, her hands stiff. As he was led away, we gathered around her and tried to make sense of the events. He wanted to live for her, to see her through her troubled times. “She’s done that for me for many years, now it’s my turn,” he said. When he sang, which he did beautifully and often, she was always alongside, tuneful, cheery and the picture of grace and beauty. Now, who will sing to her and with her?

Well, the Sarabhais rose to the occasion and gave him a memorable memorial. All his favourite songs were sung. There were no speeches, thankfully. Madhu was able to join in — she sang softly and tentatively at first, as if surprised that the man associated with these songs wasn’t present. But then she just gave in to the warmth of the loved ones who came together to celebrate his life, while marking his passage to another stage. Her voice rose and she seemed to be singing to her Satish. There was a sudden spell of rain — maybe the heavens weeping in fear as the enfant terrible of Indian comedy charged their way.

The writer is an actor