Farooque Shaikh broke his arm and apologized as the ice pack melted in my car, says Ananth Mahadevan

MUMBAI: One of the most beautiful compliments FarooqueShaikh receives ahead of his first Smriti Din December 28 comes from close friend AnanthMahadevan. As he narrates the multiple virtues that came together in one personality, Mahadevan says ShaikhSahab was "not real".
"Not a day has passed that I have not remembered Farooque Sahab with a pang. In fact I don't remember my own aunt who raised me like a mother so often.This man is haunting me. I get restless when I pass by the kabrastan at Four Bungalows where he rests. That is why I went cold when you asked if I would speak about him. This is the least I can do for him," Mahadevan says. He had directed Shaikh in two television serials, 'Chamatkar' and 'Alvida Darling'.
As if by serendipity, the two often happened to meet at book stalls. "Either we met in the airport book shop or at Strand Bookstore," Mahadevan recalls.
Then he says, "Farooque Sahab was not real. I consider myself fortunate to have known him since the last 15 years. We made 125 episodes of 'Chamatkar' starting 1999. One day we were shooting on the terrace of Goel Bungalow in Juhu, and although the take was okay, I requested one more. As he performed this shot he fell and broke his arm. We quickly applied an ice pack around the wound and rushed him to a clinic in Lokhandwala Complex in my car. All through the journey he kept apologising for wetting my car as the ice melted. The doctors had to insert a metal rod in his arm which remained until the end. Can you imagine how guilty I felt? And he was overcome by embarrassment."
Mahadevan learnt so many life lessons from Shaikh. "When I was directing 'Chamatkar' I would become so tense that I would often omit to give the cast a break for lunch. One day Farooque Sahab said to me, 'I am going home'. When I asked why he patiently explained, 'Ananth Sahab, are you hoping to win an Oscar for the serial? Why not relax and take a break?' That put things into perspective for me. What was I hoping to achieve by taking on such high levels of stress?"
Both the actor and his director considered a good script to be paramount to the success of any film or TV serial. "He could have done so much more work but he was choosy. He never fell into the trap of making more money. In fact he travelled so often by taxi and autorickshaw without ever feeling small, without ever feeling that I am a film star so how can I do that," says Mahadevan. "He also had a great sense of humour. Both of us would share a great laugh, often at our own expense. I took it as a compliment if he would laugh at my jokes."
Unlike other actors whom Mahadevan directed, Shaikh was one artiste he constantly remained in touch with. "We exchanged notes, ideas and scripts, and discussed politics. Farooque Sahab was so aware, so critical, of all that was wrong with the system well before candlelight vigils became popular at Ramleela Maidan. He felt a sense of hopelessness and said we must extricate ourselves from the quagmire before it is too late."
"He did not fall into the category of the typical film actor at all. He did not play by the book or follow the rules. He was very well read and knew of things beyond the industry which is rare. Most actors are not acknowledged or taken seriously outside the industry. How intelligent can an actor be, people think. One may be a good actor or mimic or dancer, that is expected of you. But here was a man who was aware of things beyond the 'cocoon', who knew about medicine, science, politics, a man who was aware why a whistleblower named Edward Snowden was being hounded by the American establishment. I put him in the same category as Motilal and Balraj Sahni."
Shaikh Sahab and Mahadevan would meet even when they were not shooting. "I introduced him to a restaurant named Banana Leaf at Seven Bungalows in Andheri. He would enjoy the food even though this is a vegetarian establishment. Meanwhile he introduced me to the rich 'malpuas' at Suleiman Mithaiwala at Mohammed Ali Road. We would visit during Ramzan each year."
"Once during a shoot at Saki Naka he took us to Sweet Bengal. It became embarrassing sometimes because he would never let us pay. I said this has to stop, Farooque Sahab, but he just brushed me aside. This year Banana Leaf and Suleiman lost two of their patrons. I cannot bring myself to go now that he is not here."
Shaikh Sahab would size up a friend's need and be sure to fulfil it as soon as possible without even being asked to help. "One day I happened to say I was running a fever. The next day he sent me a jar of German honey saying it would cure me. Another time it was cow's ghee. After that, I was so cautious about saying anything that could lead him to infer that I needed something," he laughs.
Shaikh Sahab's fabled generosity shone through in other ways as well. "If it was the first day of shooting he would arrange a feast. If it was pack-up day he would give us a treat. And he always made sure the spotboys ate first. In fact a senior crew member Ajay Khamosh was ailing with cancer and Farooque Sahab learnt of it. He called for his address and despatched money for his treatment. Sadly, Ajayji passed away later."
"Shaikh was a pucca namazi. We knew that on Friday afternoon and during the month of Ramzan, Farooque Sahab will not be available. For him everybody was 'Sahab'. Even the family driver was Nasir Sahab. He had named his elder daughter Shaaista (courteous), what more need be said. His Lucknowi chikan kurtas epitomised his grace. In fact when we dressed him in shirts and trousers for 'Chamatkar' and 'Alvida Darling', we would compliment him saying we did not recognise him in another outfit. I said you look so good you should wear such clothes. He would smile but promptly go back to his favourite white dress after the shoot."
Mahadevan testifies to Shaikh Sahab's singular lack of faith in the allopathic system of medicine. "He believed in alternative therapy. When he fell ill in June 2012 and was admitted to Asian Heart Hospital I wonder if he brushed off the signs of ill health. Just two days before he passed away he sent me a new year message. Each time I wished him, he would reply, 'Same and much more to you'. I also have a few handwritten letters by him which I shall cherish forever," Mahadevan says.
Had time not fallen short, the friends would have worked together on a film based on a short story by Satyajit Ray.