Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra’s autobiography is steeped in secularism

At the turn of the millennium, when the Hindi film industry was looking for new voices to break the monotony of mindless violence and NRI romance, Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra emerged as a filmmaker who was unapologetic about the roots of Hindi cinema and dared to tell original and relevant stories. Rang De Basanti (2006), Delhi-6 (2009) and Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (2013) are significant landmarks for anybody researching the relationship between popular cinema and society. When intolerance and hatred for the other was gaining currency, Mehra was showing a mirror to society, urging: “Rehna tu, hai jaisa tu”.

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Mehra’s recently released autobiography, The Stranger in the Mirror (Rupa), is laced with the honesty and warmth that mark his films. Written in collaboration with marketer-author Reeta Ramamurthy Gupta, the memoir chronicles an eventful life that has helped shape Mehra’s persuasive narratives that negotiate human imperfections.

Like most of his films, the autobiography too has no single narrator. Instead, it uses the voices of many creative people who nurtured the untrained filmmaker’s vision over the years. From Rahman, Aamir Khan, and Waheeda Rehman to Abhishek Bachchan and Sonam Kapoor, these voices give us a sense of the pixels that make the picture.

Mehra, who grew up in a cubbyhole in the precincts of a Delhi five-star hotel where his father started his career as a dishwasher, had a close look at the dance of wealth and want. Having flown kites from the rooftop of his grandmother’s home in Old Delhi, he had moved in spaces that define cultural coexistence.

Blissfully unaware of its poetic past, he used to play hide-and-seek as a child in Ghalib ki Haveli and sit on the emperor’s throne in Red Fort for a lark. Years later, armed with the tools of advertising, it was this immersive secular experience that found a reflection in his cinema, particularly Rang De Basanti and Delhi-6, his most significant works, which have become even more relevant than when they were released. Even Bhaag Milkha Bhaag is more a Partition story than a biopic of a sports legend. Mehra took creative liberties to showcase how Milkha Singh outpaced the ghosts of Partition.

Mehra showed his penchant for risk right from the start with his debut film Aks (2001), which dealt with the philosophy of life and death, good and evil, in a highly stylised fashion. But it was Rang De Basanti that marked his arrival on the big stage. This heady amalgam of the heroes of the freedom movement and a group of vibrant graduates seeking direction pricked the conscience of the youth and encouraged them to take on corruption in all its forms. The candle march that became a staple feature of civil society movements was first seen in RDB, in which a group of young people stand up against alleged corruption in the purchase of MiG fighter planes. Interestingly, Mehra is a product of the Air Force Bal Bharati School, which had a replica of the fighter plane parked in its precincts.

A sportsman, Mehra almost made the cut for the water polo team in the 1982 Asian Games, and often uses sporting similes to describe his work. He once told this journalist that he is like a referee in a football match: “I blow the whistle only when somebody is offside.” This frees the artiste, and the autobiography is full of anecdotes where Mehra allowed his creative partners to take a deep dive without fearing the destination. It was under his direction that Sonam Kapoor seemed like an accomplished actress and Farhan Akhtar looked compelling as a sprinter. It was his freeflowing jugalbandi with A.R. Rahman and Prasoon Joshi that enhanced the experience of RDB and Delhi-6. Who can forget ‘Masakali’, ‘Sasural Genda Phool’ ‘Masti Ki Pathshala’ or ‘Khoon Chala’? The book provides a window into the madness behind the method.

When most filmmakers start with romance, Mehra was keen to make a social statement before turning to a timeless love story with Mirzya (2016). An incorrigible romantic, here again he focused on human imperfections, in collaboration with Gulzar. He once told me that you can fall in love multiple times. “Yes, you remain loyal to one person, but you can experience the emotion many times, and every time it gives a different kick.” The book tells the real-life love story of the Punjabi Mehra and the South Indian P.S. Bharathi, who, he says, tries to edit out the flab from his life and films.

Those close to him point out that Mehra is a rambling narrator, and this tendency to meander sometimes creeps into his films too. To make a sporting analogy, he often tiptoes around the target for far too long before landing the punch. And when the lilt in music is missing, the gaps look glaring. Perhaps that’s why his latest film, Toofan (2021), feels tepid despite its powerful performances. But it is his honest approach and the dash of idealism that wins our hearts even when the mind demurs.