Our association can only be described as a karmic connection. I was less than 10 years old when I first 'met' him in far-off Agra. My parents and some
relatives were staying the night at the Hotel Clarks-Shiraz.
My cousins and I were gambolling in the foyer and I was running to catch one of them. And my head collided with a solid midriff.
As I stumbled, two hands picked me up and when I looked up, a smile flashed on my face. I recognised a face I had seen at least a few times in the films my movie-crazy parents would take me to watch. I remembered his name was Dharmendra.
It would be about four decades until I met him again. By that time, I had become a die-hard fan of the man who was one of the most underrated natural actors in Hindi cinema, playing a cop or a criminal, a professor or a politician, a village bumpkin or a Thakur, a truck driver, physically challenged ghost, a spy, a doctor, and more.
His performances tended to be real, whether in drama (Bandini, 1963), comedy (Chupke Chupke, 1975), action (Hukumat, 1987) or -- his natural forte till he became Hindi cinema's OG He-Man -- romance (Phool Aur Patthar, 1966). It was providence that I got the honour of penning his biography, Not Just A He-Man.
In 2007, a fortnight after Apne hit the screen, an unknown number flashed on my phone. I was writing then for India-West in California, where my US colleague had just interviewed Dharamji, and at her request, I had written a 800-word synopsis of his career and persona.
Who is this, I asked, and the voice said, "I am Dharmendra!" The penny dropped. But I was suddenly nervous about what had compelled him to call our office in the US, take my number and contact me. His simple reply was, "There have been 5000 interviews and write-ups on me. Par tumhare article ne meri rooh ko chhoo liya! Hum Deols ki parampara rahi hai -- when we like someone, we give them a jhappi. I am still in America, awaiting treatment for my knees. But when I come back, I will hug you!"
Though it was weeks before we met, the promised jhappi enhanced my love for the man responsible for the greatest high of my career as a journalist!
From here to suggesting his name when Rupa Publications gave me an offer to write a book on any star took six years, during which I kept meeting or/and interviewing him. Dharamji, as I also called him, was soft to the core, and I could only wonder at his simplicity when he told me that he came to Mumbai to just earn a "flat and a Fiat!" This car remains a prized possession, still used for shopping! I was told stories of how he beat up someone who threatened to harm his sons and then also took him to the hospital. Asha Parekh revealed how he refused to drink brandy when drenched and shivering during a Darjeeling shoot of Aaye Din Bahaar Ke (1966) as she had warned their producer to ensure that he did not come drunk on set!
My favourite performances of his remain Phool Aur Patthar, Anupama (1966), Jeevan Mrityu (1970), Yaadon Ki Baraat (1973), Chupke Chupke, Pratiggya (1975), Sholay (1975), Dharam-Veer (1977), Ghazab (1982), Apne, and his last release, Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani (2023). If that's not variety and versatility, what is?
Dharmendra discovered a poet within him in 2007, and recited lines to me that sum up his persona perfectly. "Chaahat hi boyi hai jo ab kat rahi hai/Shohrat chali jaati hai chaahat nahin." That was his secret.