71st anniversary of the birth of Farooq Shaikh: an indispensable star who does not wish to remember

Although traditionally beautiful and charming in a way that would have naturally included him in the world of Bollywood singing, it is difficult to understand why Farooq Shaikh turned to the middle clbad in its most famous films. Not that he had not sung and danced, but it was certainly not the kind that could be placed between "traditional Bollywood". His most popular songs are significant, often written by well-known poets / poets and do not require the dance skills of Jeetendra and Sridevi. Think of "Tumko dekha", "Zindagi jab bhi" or "Phir chiddi raat"

Farooq Shaikh revealed a rare ability to distract attention or the spotlight from himself. This is perhaps why the shy Shaikh never wanted to become a typical Bollywood hero, because a Bollywood hero is a model who must above all be a pro of love and vanity. Sheikh, on the other hand, was too disdainful of his (enormous) talent and had never been seduced by his own image, like the good old Narcissus. He liked talking about his own movies by quoting his co-stars, thus avoiding his own name, as if he was not part of it at all. And such a man did not want him to be remembered for his legacy. "Everyone is coming in and out of this world," he said once. "I do not really want to be called back after I leave."

Ironically, he did not want to be remembered. However, the world of cinema and in particular movie enthusiasts of the road refuse to forget it. Somewhere between the history of Farooq Shaikh

The Everyman

Whether the Ghulam taxi driver arriving in Mumbai as thousands of migrants leaving behind his new wife and sick mother in Uttar Pradesh, in Muzaffar Ali's Gaman (1978) or the studious and sincere roomy of smart-alecky majnus (Ravi Baswani and Rakesh Bedi) in the cult Chashme Buddoor directed by Sai Paranjpye (1981), Farooq Shaikh was the everyman of cinema Hindi, like Amol Palekar, his colleague Hrishik Rang Birangi of Mukherjee (1983). By investing each of his roles in what Amitabh Bachchan described as "discreet honesty," the late Sheikh, who died as a result of a heart attack in 2013, embodied the boy next door. Many fans who grew up in the 1980s, when Farooq Shaikh was at its peak, often summed up his character on the screen as "Mr. Nice. " Given the tributes that the fanboys and filmmakers continue to pay to Shaikh and the kind of sweet-sour films he was badociated with, only proves that old habits die hard. Take, for example, a multiplication of remakes of Shaikh stars like Chashme Buddoor and Katha or odes to his songs, first in Aiyyaa of Sachin Kundalkar (a character sings "Tumko dekha" even though the woman main interpretation by Rani Mukerji does not know). Farooq Shaikh and Deepti Naval are) and more recently, the photograph of Ritesh Batra on which plays the title song of Noorie in the background, giving the protagonist Rafiuallah (Nawazuddin Siddiqui) the idea of ​​naming his fake betrothed under the name of Noorie.

Farooq Shaikh and Saeed Jaffrey at Chashme Buddoor. (Source: Archive Express)

Gaman: his most distressing turn to date

Trained as a lawyer, Farooq Shaikh was born into a prosperous family of landowners in Gujarat. His first break took place in 1973, in the historic Garam Hava, an atrocious tale of the score. Seeing his potential, Muzaffar Ali entrusted him with one of his leading roles in his career, as a taxi driver Ghulam in Gaman (1978) alongside Smita Patil. The film tells of Ghulam's trip to Bombay to earn a living and support his impoverished family in his village of Uttar Pradesh. The song "Seene Mein Jalan", illustrated by Shaikh leading to Bombay in his Padmini Premier cabin, is the sharpest commentary on the unfathomable and unfathomable spirit of the island city. Written by Shahryar in the composition of Jaidev, it became a hymn to everything Bombay represents – everyday cruelties, a life without joy, frustrations, warts and everything else. Close – ups on Shaikh and his wife 's timely return in the village highlight the overwhelming bitterness that the city can impose on a migrant. This is perhaps the most annoying role of the easy going star. Shaikh would then form a successful team with the aristocratic Muzaffar Ali, former ad-man, sometimes fashion designer, part-time filmmaker and full-time Sufi. Besides Gaman, Ali's Umrao Jaan, in which Shaikh appears as a Nawab in love with the charming courtesan embodied by Rekha, is a fan favorite.

One of the most unusual roles of Shaikh was that of 1983, Katha. Who would have thought to turn this childlike face into an antagonist? Shaikh plays the hare version of the hare-turtle parable (based on a Marathi play) in this comedy by Sai Paranjpye. As a boastful but talkative Bashu, he is the perfect haunt for the timid and underrated Rajaram (Naseeruddin Shah). Interestingly, Shaikh has already shared the following exchange of Katha sets. "If Naseer and I are in the same plane, it will be my face facing the camera and the back of Naseer," Shaikh recalled. To which Naseeruddin Shah, always the torch, replied: "Yes, because my back is more expressive than your face." (Maybe if Naseeruddin Shah revisits Gaman, he might change his mind.) Once again, Shaikh's heroine in Katha was the wisest Deepti Naval. They worked together in half a dozen hits, including Saath Saath and Chashme Buddoor, and more recently found themselves in Listen … Amaya as an older couple, winning a big box of memories and nostalgia.

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