An unchained melody
Zeba Bakhtiar is the quintessential heroine of our times. The Anarkali who launched a movie and the mother
who fought a public battle for her son, speaks candidly to Sumeha Malik
Here’s the challenge. Write about Zeba Bakhtiar, Quetta beauty, Henna star and the most tragic woman in
Pakistan filmdom, without sounding gushy – or as if you want the lead role in her next film. Perhaps,
considering the facts on the ground it is not even worth the effort. Her soft doe-eyed beauty is a given (you
don’t get to be branded the most beautiful woman by a filmmaker of Raj Kapoor’s stature for nothing), she has a
portfolio of films (Sargam, Qaid and now Babu and Azan), and just last year fought a courageous court-political
battle replete with kidnapping and intrigues, to regain custody of her four year old son Azaan.
Bakhtiar was resting when I rang her doorbell. A ubiquitous guard stood sentry by the entrance. A short while
later she came into the room like a breath of fresh air, emanating charm, and despite the early morning hour,
vibes of restless energy. Resplendent in a simple shalwar kameez, her favourite way of dressing, she was a
picture perfect image, an inspiration for the best of poets, instantly bringing to mind the words of Raj Kapoor:
‘One of the most beautiful women I have ever set eyes on.’
Despite her youth and a traditionally sheltered upbringing, she has been through traumas once too often. Not
surprisingly, after the failure of two marriages, the trauma of losing her baby and struggle to get him back,
bitterness has found a permanent abode in her person.
“The small town girl from Quetta” of Pathan and Hungarian origin, she had a very sheltered and rarefied
childhood. Inspired by her favourite author Barbara Cartland’s imagery of an “out of this world” euphoric
feeling after marriage, Zeba, wanting to fashion herself in her mother’s image, always wanted to be a homebody.
“Mummy was a complete wife and mother in the real sense, through and through,” says Zeba. “And that is how
I envisioned myself. A picture of a perfectly happy married life, with lots of kids, a loving husband and maybe
dabbling a bit in fine arts.” But when her dreams were shattered and reality came tumbling down she
comprehended the brutality of life.
“It was a very painful homecoming,” says a deeply scarred Zeba. During the one year of married life, she
learned the hard way that all that glitters could be mere gold plating. Life soon became a long act, put on for the
benefit of others to portray that all was hunky dory and marital bliss. “I was deceiving every one, mostly myself
by leading a life full of lies.”
Feeling stifled and trapped with no room to breath, wanting to break the shackles of marriage and the bonds of
a relationship in which she did not respect herself, Zeba says she had to act fast.
“I could not cope with hypocrisy. I feel every woman in our society is supposed to act. Specially after tying the
nuptial knot, she cannot really be herself.”
So she broke away from the confines of her first marriage, and jumped headlong into the harsh lights and brash
moods of the tinsel world. “I wanted to be recognized and respected by all,” she says believing this to be the
balm to salve her bruised ego.
“When you’re bitter you’re looking for an outlet.” That outlet and mode of self expression was writing. She
wrote a couple of scripts and took one to PTV.
“I was more interested in writing than acting and that still holds true. That’s when they offered me a part in
Anarkali, giving me a chance to write quite a few scenes as well. This became my debut in acting and writing,”
says Zeba with pride.
Still full of verve and energy, she moved on to London for a brief stint in an English serial “Stolen”. It was there
she bagged the “Henna” role. Approached by Haseena Moin and Randhir Kapoor, she took on the challenge.
Henna was the most publicised film of its time. Others to follow were Mohabbat Ki Aarzoo, Jai Vikranta,
Stuntman and a few others. Save for her initial experience with PTV, Zeba thinks that most of her learning
process took place in the hard school that was Bollywood. It was during breaks between takes that instead of
catching a wink in the cool interiors of a make-up room, she would linger on the set, all eyes, absorbing
everything like a dry sponge. This is where she absorbed the ropes of her profession!
“They are dedicated and devoted to their work to the extent of worship, whereas here we lack modesty, which
they have in abundance.”
It’s a sad situation, she says, that in our industry everybody is on the look out to pull the ladder from under you
at the first given opportunity. She sighs and adds regretfully, “There is no one from whom I can seek advice, I’m
totally on my own.”
She came from a conservative and protected haven, she confides, “My father never approved of it. As for
permission I still don’t have it.” Being the youngest pampered daughter with a stubborn streak and typical
Scorpion characteristics - impulsive and intense, peppered with perseverance, she conquered all; though in the
long run losing a lot. As compensation her father accepted the fact, seeing this was what his beloved daughter
had set her heart on. As for writing that had everyone’s whole hearted approval.
Not one to be easily satisfied, and as quickly bored with monotony; acting was not enough. Constantly on the
go, the spunky girl decided, around this time to try her hand at direction.
Surprised I asked if it was adios to her acting career. She responded thoughtfully. “Not really, if I am given a
different story and a powerful role I might consider it, may it be garnished with an occasional dip and dance
around a tree.”
She has definitely not lost her touch as she is playing the heroine opposite Saud in her self directed movie titled
“Babu.” Oozing excitement, she delves into the story without any hesitation, proclaiming she had started work
on this project in 1993, shelving it from time to time due to various reasons.
This time she means business and, despite maniacal problems with co stars and sets, intends completing it.
As the topic is extremely controversial, her guess regarding public response, is as good as ours. “Because it
(Qaid) is focussed on the realities of life that have always been there, but we conveniently ignore it as if it’s non
existent.”
In a nutshell it is the story of an illegitimate child growing up with his mother in the red light district, while the
father moves on to greener pastures. Hopes are high of completing the movie by next month then she will start
working on her next venture titled “Azan.”
“So far everything is going as planned,” says a satisfied Zeba.
“I’m very happy with the outcome. Everything I have put in is a part of me.”
Though satisfied with the working of our actors Zeba feels there is not much choice when casting. “At times
you want a fresh face for a particular role, but our girls have inhibitions and refuse offers.”
As for their attitudes, “They all respect me as I do not pose any apparent threat to them.”
As of directors, there are a few who have great ideas for instance Syed Noor, Sangeeta and Samina Peerzada. “It
is lack of facilities and equipment that make our films a poor product. Also due to a small market they cannot
afford to go for big budget ventures.”
One can feel Zeba’s dedication to her work, and also her frustration which she in no way tries to hide. She wails,
“Though I’m trying to make my movie totally Pakistan based, to aggressively project our culture and tourism,
the negative and discouraging attitude of people really drives me up the wall. Even for permission to shoot
against a historical monument you have to run back and forth, from city to city and department to department,
and in the end, the result of all this frenzied activity is what? You are refused.”
More importantly though, she feels there’s a very serious dearth of musicians in our country. Art forms are
dying and not being revived .
For her film she needed an accomplished sarangi player. Not one was to be found. Zeba mockingly adds, “We
can boast of KFC’s and McDonalds in our country, but can’t lay hands on a sarangi player. This speaks for our
dwindling culture.”
Having glimpsed a chubby and an extremely adorable five year old Azan, a couple of times, I consider this just
the right moment to broach the touchy subject of his abduction. She says, “The situation prevalent in our
society is very inhuman. The attitude of the people is also the same – callous and careless.” It’s a state of
apathy everywhere. People who were in a position to do something for her kidnapped son exploited the
vulnerability of the helpless mother.
“Each day I was learning something new and hating our system all the more. There was a time when I was even
told: Forget about this child. Why can’t you have more children?”
Ever since the return of her son, who is a carbon copy of his father, neither Adnan, nor anyone else from that
family has tried to contact her, not even to ask how Azan has settled down. A problematic marriage from the
beginning and, “a mistake on my part,” admits Zeba. She tried to make it work only for Azan’s sake. Today she
wishes, “it could all have been more civilized. I’m absolutely numb. Sometimes you reach a stage, having been
dealt such harsh blows that you don’t feel like talking about it ever.”