When psychologist Abraham Maslow studied self-actualised individuals, it led him to the idea that such ‘stand-out’ individuals are above the pack, or a cut above the rest. And, that they are adept and skilful in surmounting numerous challenges of life and accomplishing their maximum potential through peak experiences. In the process, Maslow discovered certain attributes that also made them ‘hit it off well’ in every aspect of life, despite the usual human pitfalls, through self-actualisation.
Self-actualisation encompasses a veritable sequence of attributes — right from creativity, courage, humour and calmness to conviction. They are not just expressions of strength; they play the role of ‘shock-absorbers’ for that inevitable storm, or ups and downs, in one’s life, or career — aside from other quirks. In contemporary thought, this element has a new expression, ‘robust personality.’ You’d call it the extension of Maslow’s model — one that reflects qualities, such as, ‘to venture,’ persevere and manage.
Waheeda Rehman — now 85, but as young-old as ever — exemplified, and also exemplifies, such attributes in a manner born. She is the quiet-robust archetype of what mind scientists articulate a majority of us use, but a tiny part — about 3-4 per cent — of our inherent talents. Not our full, or actual, potential. Because, when we use them, at times, we not only surprise others, but also ourselves. Waheeda is an outstanding example of such a profound, well-organised, self-actualised, intensity-focused actress who has worked endlessly on her true, god-gifted potential, and taken art and acting to a new level—her level, or benchmark, that none can replicate. She has never dropped her focus. She’s always there, unswervingly, with her passion for cinema — even at the ‘twilight’ of her remarkable career.
I’ve always been a great fan of Waheeda and her films, right from my convent school days, in Mysuru, in the 1960s. I still am — the fascination has not diluted at all. Not even an iota, so to speak. It was a time when I did not know a smattering of Hindi. This was, of course, in no way influenced by the popular anti-Hindi movement, or Kannada ‘jingoism.’ Yet, I did not make an attempt to follow, much less understand the language. Yet, the irony is I was mesmerised by Hindi film music — I ‘worshipped’ Shankar-Jaikishan. I wanted to be like them. Literally. I still do — nothing has changed with my great fascination for the legendary duo, except that my Hindi today is a tad better than it ever was, although it still does not ‘sound’ as good as it ought to, otherwise, especially with non-Hindi folks, who have ‘cultivated’ the language over a period of time.
I don’t know what it was that allured me — Waheeda’s stunning face, her acting brilliance, or spur-of-the-moment super-duper expressions which most top actors and actresses are adept at. But, with Waheeda, they were all at a far too higher plane. I’d also reckon that there’s something magical in Waheeda and her acting talent, something mystical, something above and beneath art that captivated me.
There are innumerable Waheeda images that fall like raindrops on my bald pate. To highlight a brace of examples. The enchantingly ageless Sachin ‘Dada’ Burman’s number, Jane kya tune kahi, from Pyaasa — with Waheeda’s compelling, yet sublime ‘come-hither’ looks, dazzling eye notations and ‘waltzing’ cadence that Guru Dutt, the movie genius who ‘discovered’ her, could never ever have gotten over with. Or, that riveting scene in Guide when Kishore Sahu [Marco] returns home unexpectedly, perhaps, to ‘witness’ Waheeda [Rosie] in a dance practice session, thanks to Dev Anand [Raju, the guide]. Marco, who’s forbidden Rosie, his wife, from anything connected with dance, is close to a raging volcano — and, Waheeda expecting the expected ‘emotes’ the rattling effect on her countenance with sublime spontaneity, also supreme dexterity, where her subtle, also overt, expressions reveal all the trappings, perhaps, much better than deftly-picked, well-sculpted words. This is, again, to reiterate my point — a quick recap of just two of my Waheeda-centric movie reminiscences. There are, of course, a host of such superbly crafted Waheeda’s celluloid embellishments that reside in my mind. They will stay there — never to recede. My only regret is I’ve never met Waheeda in person. I don’t know if it will ever happen, because I’ve zero contacts in Bollywood. I hope she reads this piece — and, we meet. When it happens, nobody would be more delighted than I.
Waheeda has always been Waheeda, the eternal pretty face of Indian cinema. As Naseen Munni Kabir articulates in her riveting book, Conversations with Waheeda Rehman, “What I discovered about Waheeda Rehman was that she is a feisty lady and has always fought her corner, even from a young age. Besides her confidence and intuitive understanding of right and wrong, she also has a natural gift for storytelling. Admittedly, it takes her time and a sense of trust and ease to open up, but when she does, she comes alive. Her descriptions of the past and the people she knew have a once-upon-a-time feel to them — every event is told with a beginning, middle and end. She has a great memory and gets so involved in evoking the past that her eyes sparkle — it’s as though she were seeing actual images of that lived experience. In addition to her lively conversation, her insight into the craft of film-making shows a keen and alert intelligence… Getting to know the genuine person behind her illustrious reputation, great beauty and winning smile has been a wonderful privilege. Waheeda Rehman is truly as lovely in real life as she is on the screen.”
The philosopher Plato regarded quality, courage and human fulfilment as being essential cogs to leading a happy, contended life, or career. He said that wisdom has got much to do with the intellect just as much, or more, as a wise individual uses their mind to understand moral reality and applies it to their daily life. The ‘mariner’s compass’ for the wise individual, as Plato put it, is guided by rationality — the choices they make. In Waheeda’s case, the mariner’s compass, or radar, was her acting skill, also dancing ability. Her sense of courage had also so much to do with how she faced adversity, also ‘controversy,’ in the aftermath of Guru Dutt’s sad and untimely passing into the sunset.
The philosopher Aristotle too believed that life, or career, for each of us is keyed to a purpose and the function of one’s life is, therefore, aligned to achieve that purpose — with more than an element of empathetic steadfastness. He believed that there was an unambiguous, also crystal clear, connection for such a description in every individual’s life — focus, aim, or goal. It is a given, as Aristotle put it, that human achievement is, as a rule, energised by purpose and independent action and that we should all take delight in being exceptional at what we do — whatever the framework, or bandwidth, of our talents. You’d certainly think of Waheeda as being Hindi cinema’s foremost roseate star in the context.
Waheeda defied every obstacle that came in the face of challenge. What is it that enabled her to persevere in overcoming hurdles and setbacks that, otherwise, subjugate the less disciplined and less committed? Simple. Self-discipline. She rose to every challenge and emerged stronger than ever before. Besides, she also called upon her inner resources to find solutions to challenges. In so doing, she stood firm in her pursuit to which she was fully committed. Waheeda was always in a league of her own. She has never ever lost her terra firma, also winsome, charming smile — a natural part of her psyche, also acting ‘gear.’
Waheeda always knew her capacity — the ability to bouncing back in the wake of a film not doing well at the box-office. Agreed that there weren’t far too many such situations in her remarkable career. This was something that set the stage in enhancing her resiliency and promoting her talent through upbeat prudence. We all know that Waheeda’s success, be it movies, or personal life, was fuelled by large doses of optimism and positive thinking — this also included affirmative self-talk.
There won’t be another like her again.
— First published in Madras Courier
