Once Upon a Cinema | Naseeruddin Shah and Om Puri: Chronicles of a Friendship

There is a picture of Om Puri and Naseeruddin Shah during their FTII days. Shabana Azmi looked at it and told them, “How could two such plug-ugly faces even dare to think of becoming actors?” When these two gentlemen broke into the scene, acting was the preserve of tall, fair, strapping men who bore no resemblance with the people they were supposed to entertain - not that anything has changed now. But these two men belonged to a generation of actors who resembled average Indians and could play anyone and anything under the sun.

The year was 1970. As Naseeruddin Shah walked up the stairs to reach his classroom on the third floor of National School Drama, he noticed two lanky young men in white shirts waiting for their destiny to unfold. One of them introduced himself, “Hi! My name is Om Puri.” He replied, “Hello. I am Naseer Shah.” The other man Naseer saw with Om that day was named Jaspal. He has an important part to play in this story.

Om Puri was reticent and rather shy. He rarely opened his mouth, nor looked people in the eye. He was decidedly an introvert, but much of his hesitation might have stemmed from his initial discomfort with English. Everyone was at home in the language, especially their instructor Ebrahim Alkazi and Om’s classmate Naseeruddin Shah. Om and Naseer had gotten glimpses of how talented the other was, and a bond had started to develop. They often encouraged each other.

On one occasion, some students from the directing course were given parts to read from a play. Om was disturbed by this. He gathered courage, stood up and addressed Alkazi in English. Acting students should be allowed to read, he said, not directing students. Alkazi was impressed that this silent boy had finally spoken. But he wasn’t the only one. That day after class, Naseer was waiting for Om. He told him, “I knew you would speak one day.” This statement of faith and encouragement made a profound impact on Om Puri. One day he invited Naseer to his place. Naseer knew that Om stayed at Jaspal’s father’s house, but he had no idea of the conditions they lived in. Jaspal’s father was a guard at Old Delhi Railway Station, and his quarter was near the platform. There were two small rooms, which five students shared, including Jaspal and Om. On asking where he slept, Om took Naseer to a corridor outside the rooms. He could smell the stench and smoke coming out of the railway station, which was right next door. Naseer explained later, “I saw a little charpai (cot) very neatly covered with a bedcover, a pair of chappals placed very neatly below it, a little bookcase with a couple of scripts and maybe one book – (Stanislavsky’s) My Life in Art, and a pen..and a lungi hanging on the wall and a stove which had a pump - made a godawful racket, sounded like a waterfall when it’s alight. Om’s journey from that corridor outside Old Delhi station to the kind of success in international cinema that all of us only fantasise about, is a testament (to the) man’s character.”

As their NSD course got over, Naseer enrolled at the Film and Television Institute of India to learn acting for film. During the holidays, he visited Om and insisted that he join him at FTII. But I have no money, protested Om. He couldn’t afford the fees. Naseer refused to listen. “Beg, borrow or steal if need be. But come join the institute.”  Om had to give in to his friend’s demands.

When Om was auditioning for a seat at FTII, Naseer was a second-year student and was expected to help the new aspirants. Om performed a scene from Adya Rangacharya’s Suno Janmejay, followed by a Hindi translation of the “Friends, Romans, countrymen” speech from Julius Caesar. A member of the selection board, a mainstream filmmaker, scoffed and said, “You don’t have a cinematic face!” If Naseer had his way, he would have physically accosted the man right there. But he didn’t have to. Girish Karnad, then director of FTII, echoed Naseer’s thoughts as he thundered, “What do you mean he doesn’t have a cinematic face?” What the man obviously meant was that Om wasn’t good-looking enough to be a hero. Many years later, reflecting on the incident Naseer said, “Om’s face is like a landscape in itself!”  Nobody could have said it better.

After FTII as they slowly but surely crafted the contours of a stellar career in film and on stage, Naseer and Om stayed friends. Their paths often crossed at work, sometimes spectacularly so. In the initial years, they were often cast in the same films – B.V. Karanth’s Thabbaliyu Neenade Magane/ Godhuli (1977), Madan Bawariya’s Shayad (1979), Shyam Benegal’s Bhumika (1977) and Sai Paranjpye’s Sparsh (1980). But the first time they really shared screen space in a significant way was Aakrosh (1980), where their characters were on two sides of a moral quandary, and sparks flew whenever they came together. This was followed by Bhavani Bhavai (1981), but 1983 was the year when some of their most iconic work came out: Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro, Mandi and Ardh Satya. Om unleashed the beast in Ardh Satya, and showed the world what he was truly made of. Naseer sparkled in a sizzling cameo as the suspended inspector Mike Lobo. When Om won the Best Actor award at Karlovy Vary International Film Festival for his work in the film and he went there to accept it, journalists in India asked Naseer what he felt about it. “I am very proud of him. Om was born with a wooden spoon in his mouth.”

Over the years, the two of them shared a relationship that was not devoid of friction entirely. But that’s how the most intense, durable friendships are. But this chronicle would be unfinished without the mention of an unfortunate episode which could have changed the course of Indian cinema’s history. While shooting for Shyam Benegal’s Bhumika (1977), Om and Naseer were in a restaurant having their dinner when Jaspal stepped in. Jaspal would have been one-third of a talented trio which included these two friends of his. To this day, many of his classmates and his teachers vouch for his talent. But fate had other plans. That evening, Rajendra Jaspal attacked Naseeruddin Shah with a knife.  He was able to stab him once, and would have hit more, if Om Puri hadn’t swung into action and subdued him. An ambulance was called but because it was an assault, the cops came in. Om pleaded to the cops that his friend needed urgent medical attention. Naseer was taken to Cooper Hospital in Juhu and then to Jaslok. Naseer recovered soon and had another bizarre encounter with Jaspal which he narrated in his memoirs. Jaspal didn’t work in films after this. Naseer and Om continued to build an exceptional body of work both together and as individuals. They remained friends till Om Puri’s demise in 2017.