Fame
Some things never change
at the awards...Thank the lord
 Circa
:1983. Those were the days before anyone
had heard of event management. The venue
for the Filmfare Awards Nite was the Shanmukhananda
Hall (before it burnt down) lit up like
a wedding pandal. Stage decoration was a
basic affair with flowers, thermocol, satin
and glitter done by the Indian National
Theatre. Kanti Mehta's AV about previous
awards functions was the highlight of the
evening. Entertainment meant some songs,
an orchestra, folk dances (really!), maybe
a starlet doing a classical dance number
and a comedian cracking a few jokes. A politician
as a guest of honour, speeches and votes
of thanks, and then the announcement of
the awards. No one could have imagined then
that one day the Filmfare Awards would have
a sponsor, a budget running into eight figures,
top stars performing, international acts
and nationwide telecast. Even minus the
glamour and high-powered multi-media coverage,
and stars staying away if they were not
sure of winning, the Filmfare Award pass
was still a much sought after piece of card
paper. I remember having started my report
(Filmfare June 1-15 the mag was a fortnightly
then) with the words, "The pre-Awards function
tension slowly reaches its peak. Frayed
tempers, near nervous breakdowns, people
barging into the office, the phone ringing
constantly, in general, everybody going
berserk and a few hours before the function,
the biting of nails--Will everything go
well? Will so-and-so turn up? Will the audience
enjoy the programme? Have the celebs got
proper seats?" The situation must be pretty
much the same now. And 16 years after I
quit Filmfare, I'm still badgered for passes
by the star struck: "Surely you have contacts,"
they demand. I know what the Filmfare staffer
hates most at the time of the awards--the
wheedling, cajoling, insistent, if-you-are-my-friend-you-will-
get-me-a-pass phone calls. Compared to today's
razzmatazz, the format of the Filmfare Awards
then seemed so simple. By the '80s, the
Awards had, kind of, lost the high glamour
they used to have in the earlier decades,
when stars used to attend in full force
and there used to be an unofficial competition
over which actress was best dressed. And
heroes used to get new suits ordered for
the evening. That may have had  something
to do with the fact that during this period,
the `art' filmwallahs were winning all the
trophies, and the commercial film folk were
always sore losers. However, 1983 was the
year in which the biggies of commercial
cinema won the awards--Dilip Kumar, Raj
Kapoor, Shammi Kapoor, Deven Varma, Salim-Javed,
R.D. Burman, Kishore Kumar, along with promising
newcomers Padmini Kolhapure, Supriya Pathak
and Salma Agha--and the attendance was on
the high side. (The Marathi and Bengali
awards were also included, like poor country
cousins). So it was a warm April evening.
I remember having excitedly bought an expensive
new dress and gold sandals for the special
evening (my first official awards function),
pinned on the huge shiny badge and stood
in the foyer keeping Sarika company. She
was assigned the task of welcoming guests
and shooting a couple of questions at them
before they went into the hall. When all
the actresses came decked up in shiny Kanjeevarams
and jazzy salwar kameezes, dripping gold,
diamonds and gajras, Sarika had the nerve
to come in a white cotton skirt-blouse,
with a bead necklace round her neck. Jugal
Hansraj had just captured viewers' hearts
as the Masoom moppet, and he cutely declared
that he didn't "hate girls but was very
shy of them." The film had won for first-time
director Shekhar Kapur the Critics' Award.
He was the next big thing then--still is--and
Mahesh Bhatt was the up-and-coming maverick.
Of the directors walking into the function
then, only Yash Chopra has survived the
years in good shape. Salim-Javed had won
the best screenplay award for Shakti, but
had broken up their glorious partnership
by this time. Though they kept up a cordial
front, the cold vibes were freezing. Javed
had come with then wife Honey, and accepted
the trophy from a coyly smiling Shabana
Azmi, and of course everybody could feel
the chemistry between them. The entire Kapoor
clan had come, Raj Kapoor had won the Best
Director award for Prem Rog, and Shammi
Kapoor Best Supporting Actor for Vidhaata.
Randhir, Rishi-Neetu, Shashi Kapoor with
Kunal (zipping down from the shooting of
Utsav for a day) had all come to cheer.
Though Randhir good naturedly grumbled that
the function was cutting into his drinking
time! Amjad Khan was the wisecracking master
of ceremonies, who ad- libbed with Deven
Varma and talked a stage-fright stricken
Raakhee to hand over the Best Film trophy
to Riaz (of the Mushir- Riaz duo, producers
of Shakti). From among the actresses who
were then on their way up the stardom ladder--Padmini
Kolhapure, Poonam Dhillon, Anita Raaj, Swapna,
Rameshwari, Anooradha Patel, Salma Agha,
none has had the long career spans of Asha
Parekh, Tanuja, Raakhee, who were then established
actresses. Dimple Kapadia hadn't made that
miraculous comeback, but had the bearing
of a queen. Smita Patil, who walked in daringly
alone, died tragically young. Of the heroes,
Rishi Kapoor, Raj Babbar, Suresh Oberoi,
Farouque Shaikh, Kunal Kapoor, Kumar Gaurav,
and a skinny young Anil Kapoor rubbed shoulders
with the seniors like the Kapoors, Sunil
Dutt and Rajendra Kumar. But Dilip Kumar
is still the undisputed star two decades
down the line. And Anil Kapoor is still
the leading man. And yes, even the then
chief guest Naushad, had the same complaint
about the decline of Hindi film music. Thank
god some things never change.
- Deepa Gahlot
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