Today, Sanjay Dutt brings in his 57th birthday. Neither a spring chicken nor an antsy middle-aged man, he’s going somewhere close to 37, with that endearing goofy grin and a boyish attitude befuddled by the circumstances which have anointed him as Bollywood’s first controversy’s child.
After serving two terms in jail for the illegal possession of firearms during the Mumbai communal riots of 1992-‘93, the native has returned to the fold. Still referred to as Sanju baba, he is currently restrategising his career with an emphasis on reviving Ajanta Arts, the film production banner established by his father Sunil Dutt.
As soon as he was released from Pune’s Yeravada jail on February 25 this year, there was a buzz that a film by Siddharth Malhotra (director of Agneepath remake) would kick off. It didn’t. The Vidhu Vinod Chopra produced Kabuliwala is on the charts, a retake on the Rabindranath Tagore story which way back in ‘61 showcased Balraj Sahni in the title role.
A remake of Khal Nayak is in the works, to be produced by Sanjay Leela Bhansali, but the original’s mastermind Subhash Ghai has been doling out statements which are as cautious as crossing a busy highway.
As for his biopic to be toplined by Ranbir Kapoor and to be stewarded by Rajkumar Hirani, it could be under a rejig process since its shoot has been rescheduled to next January.
A lull’s been on for five months, then, even though Sanjay has never been associated with the virtue of patience. Without any connivance, though, he has maintained his goodwill in the industry, except strangely enough with Salman Khan who once idolised the trendsetter of the more-brawn-than-brain brand of acting. They’re not on talking terms. So be it, till they bear hug at a soiree where the paparazzi have been given a psst psst tip-off.
On a personal but hopefully objective note, I’d say that Sanju baba hasn’t ever grasped the gravity of the issues which have dogged him. When the news of his involvement with firearms broke, he was in Mauritius shooting for the Yash Johar-produced Gumrah (1993) which providentially translates as The One Who Has Gone Astray.
After scores of STD ‘phone calls, I’d got him on a Mauritius hotel’s line to inform him that he had just sparked alarming national news. “National?” he had responded. “Really? What does that mean?” I explained that he would be in a stew any moment now. It was odd that he wasn’t in the loop yet. To that he had mumbled repeatedly, “Really? Really? You’re joking. Right?” and had handed the phone over to his secretary Pankaj Kharbanda.
Both the actor and his right-hand man were unaware of the repercussions. If they were, both had just given Oscar-worthy performances. Three days later as a reporter I fetched up at Mumbai’s Sahar International Terminal where he was received by his thoroughly stressed-out family. His arrest was imminent and inevitable.
Subsequently Sunil Dutt campaigned tirelessly for his son’s release on probation. At his Bandra office, Dutt Sr was a broken man, pointing out that Sanju possessed the knack of inviting trouble. Earlier, there had been the traumatic phase of seeing his son through a cure at a drug rehabilitation centre.
Sanjay had lost his mother, the legendary actress Nargis, and then his wife Richa Sharma, to cancer. His daughter Trishala was raised by her maternal grandparents in New York, and a much-conjectured relationship with Madhuri Dixit – whom the father alluded to as “that lovely actress” had apparently gone to dust. She had cut off all lines of contact with him.
Although the atmosphere in the office was dark, the father’s optimism shone through. Sanju baba would return to start afresh and he did. Before passing away in 2005, the doting dad saw the prodigal back at the studios, toting occasional hits, as well as flops, projects which were ill-selected, be it Zila Ghaziabad, Policegiri, Department, Ungli or the senseless retread of Zanjeer.
Not surprising that. Sanjay Dutt has been irrevocably impetuous. When I had called him to check on his hush-hush nikaah to his third wife, Dilnawaz Sheikh rechristened Manyata – he dimissed it as ‘faltu gossip.’ Once the gossip was confirmed as fact, he apologised bashfully. “Come over for dinner,” he laughed over the phone. I didn’t. Why embarrass him further?
Be that as it may, the actor appears to have has achieved an iota of stability following the marriage and the birth of twins Shahraan and Iqra. I don’t think he will or should ever opt for politics again. He had joined the Samajwadi Party, at the exhortation of its then major domo Amar Singh, but backed out on finding that he was as miscast as he would be in a dance musical.
It’s his strong screen presence that he has to encash right now, and re-demonstrate that he can belt out a remarkable performance or two, which he can when a director inspires him to. Notable examples: Mahesh Bhatt’s Naam, Lawrence D’Souza’s Saajan, Mahesh Manjrekar’s Vaastav and Hirani’s Munnabhai MBBS and Lage Raho Munnabhai.
In an avuncular vein, I can only conclude that the movies are his only beat. Those phases of going astray are over and done with, touchoak.
(The writer is a film critic, filmmaker, theatre director and a weekend painter)
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