Dev Anand’s last words to me in November, 2011 were, “London Ja Raha Hun. Ake Tujh Se Milta Hun.” Hearing the news of his sad demise seven years ago, I broke down. Even today he remains my Dev Anand, my hero who created the journalist in me. Today, I share with you, some of my experiences with him on the occasion of his seventh death anniversary.
Nattily dressed Dev Anand walked briskly into his Khira Nagar office at Santacruz, Mumbai. “Mr. Gupta what can I do for you. How do I know you are a journalist?” These were his first words to me. I showed him my identity proof of the film weekly I just joined. I received the first interview of my journalist’s career. My job knew no bounds as I interviewed my favourite hero.
I still have fresh reminiscences of Dev Anand shooting Awal Number at National Park, Borivali. He was disciplined, involved in his work yet caring. In the days to come he was my Devsaab and I his Ranjan. Through work we developed an emotional relation. Devsaab personally asked me to interact with his illustrious brothers, Chetan and Vijay. He genuinely felt they would enlighten me.
My rapport with the Anand brothers helped the journalist in me to grow. I learnt many aspects of their films and also came in personal contact with Devsaab’s reclusive wife Kalpana Kartik. Devsaab admitted late Guru Dutt and Rajkhosla were his true friends.
Our discussions varied from cinema to literature to music. I cried remembering his lip synching to Sawan Ke Mahine Mein in Sharabi. Devsaab said, “Are Are. Tu Ro Diya. Don’t be silly. There were occasions when Debvsaab helped me come out of crisis. There were times when we strongly differed. He was rude and even banged the phone at times. Yet the next day he was his usual self."
The author writes on films, among other things.