His world and work were the elephant stables of the Mysore Palace. And it was here in 1935, that the famous director Robert Flaherty saw him for the first time and knew immediately that, in Sabu Dastagir, he had found his ‘Elephant Boy’. (Recently, there has been some talk that his real name was not ‘Dastagir’. For that matter, even his date of birth may not be correct. In those days, who would have made an exact note of the birth date of a humble stable boy?)
Uneducated he may have been but he was super-intelligent, with large expressive eyes, eager to learn, instinctive, understanding direction beyond expectations. He was given no time to adjust or even absorb the complete over turn his life would now take. He travelled to England for the film shooting. The movie was a smash hit, raked in millions for the studio and made him famous overnight.
Sir Alexander Korda, then one of the topmost film producers/studio owners in England asked his writers to script a film especially for Sabu. Shot in America, The Thief of Baghdad was a major hit. Sabu was established in Hollywood, and many films followed, co-starring him with the big names of those times — Maria Montez, John Loder, Jean Simmons and Deborah Kerr.
One of the first things he did, as soon as he could, was to send for his beloved elder brother — Shaikh, who was the only family he knew, to whom he was deeply attached and had protected him all his life. He set him up in the furniture business. It flourished because of the long, hard hours they put into building a reputation for excellent craftsmanship and personal attention.
He served in the US Army in the World War II, winning the Distinguished Service Cross in 1944. As secretary to A J Patel — visionary and founder of Patel India and Filmcenter Laboratory, I had the opportunity to meet an endless line of famous foreign film personalities (among others from different walks of life) such as Alfred Hitchcock, Danny Kaye, William Holden, Errol Flynn, Rod Cameron, Gregory Peck, Mark Robson, Stewart Granger, Barbara Rush… Some were very charming, some introverted, and some rude. I took it in my stride — it was part of the job.
But in 1952, I met Sabu and his wife Marilyn, with their two-year-old son Paul and formed a deep personal bond with them. He was unassuming, alert, always cheerful and ever willing to help. Sitting on the terrace of Patel’s beautiful home — White House, with the Arabian Sea literally at our feet, and looking at The Queen’s Necklace (Marine Drive), we would talk for hours. He never spoke of his war experiences, or his successes — he was not a ‘name dropper’, and he was always the butt of his jokes!
They told me how they had met. The heroine of his film, End of the River, had fallen ill, and they were shooting around her with a substitute for the long shots. This substitute was a beautiful aspiring actress Marilyn Cooper with jet-black hair and gray-green eyes. And just as it happens in films, they knew immediately that this was
forever. In 1949, as soon as the film was completed, they got married. This was her first and last screen appearance.
Marilyn was a totally devoted, loyal wife and mother. Her world was Sabu. In every way, she was a typical Indian bahu. We spent a lot of time together — shopping, driving along the Juhu Beach, stopping at my house in Bandra to meet my mother and sisters, wandering through Bombay. I picture their visit, as it would have played out today, hounded by the media and public! On two or three occasions, after a lot of persuasion from Sabu and many assurances from my side, Marilyn left two-year-old Paul with me. They visited Mysore and Agra.
There was some talk of Sabu doing the role of Birju in Mehboob Saheb’s Mother India, but nothing came of those meetings. They returned to America, where their daughter Jasmine was born. He continued with his film career. Marilyn and I kept in touch with letters and messages even after my husband and I moved to Madras. We exchanged Christmas greetings each year.
In the 1940s and 1950s, Sabu was listed among the richest stars in Hollywood. Among his closest friends were Ronald Reagan, Jimmy Stewart, Tyrone Power and Gregory Peck. And then in 1960s, his miracle world came crashing down.
They began losing money in the business. His old, hit films were aired on TV and initially did well, but new generation audiences were no longer fascinated by Sabu and the outdated techniques of filmmaking.
He was in negotiations with Walt Disney for work at Disney Land. But nothing came of this. He then began working in the circus. But the cruelest blow that shattered him was the brutal murder of Shaikh in the furniture showroom. Some said it was a burglary gone wrong. A murder that was never solved.
I tried desperately to stay in touch, but my letters were either returned or never answered. Through common American friends, the Patels also tried to contact him, but with no result. We learnt of his death through the newspapers. He died in December 1963, following a massive heart attack. He was 39 years old.
Marilyn had stood by him through the worst times. After his death, she had to raise their two children on her won, with no career and probably very little money. But she never
married again. Years later, in a rare interview, she said that having loved and been the wife of a man like Sabu, she could never consider marrying another man.
Their children, however, prospered. Paul became a musician, and Jasmine, always besotted by horses, opened a small stud farm. She was determined to revive her
father’s name and achievements. She went from pillar to post to find backing to remake his hit films Jungle Book and Thief of Baghdad. But the old studio system was gone and she found no support. I read somewhere that she was in touch with producers in south India who had shown interest in this venture, but it was all very vague. I have no way of knowing if this is true.
As it turned out whatever her hopes and dreams may have been, whether she had actually found financial backing or not, it ultimately meant nothing. Tragically she died in 2001, and is buried next to her father at the Forest Lawn Cemetery.
Fate took him out of a stable to the dizzying heights of fame, bringing him success and money in Hollywood — and then, in one fell swoop, took it all away so ruthlessly. This bitter truth has been one of the hardest for me to accept.
don’t know gregory peck
Gregory Peck was to arrive in Bombay. Patel had instructed his daughter Indira and me to receive him at the airport. Shashikala, a very close family friend, dropped in, and was only too happy to join us. Suddenly Patel insisted we take Sabu with us, as otherwise we would not recognise Gregory Peck! He could not understand why
Indira, Shashikala and I got into a non-stop fit of giggles!
Finally, Sabu did come with us, and we brought Peck safely home.