The Hindi film industry is in full confession mode with Nawazuddin Siddiqui and Pooja Bhatt writing books which talk about unknown and the not so pretty aspects of their lives. Team Viva gives a sneak peek
Bollywood is not playing coy — not any more. Confessions galore, not just in off-the-cuff remarks but finding their way in full-fledged tell-all memoirs, seems to be the name of the game. From alcoholism, to lusty, hormonal pursuits and one night stands, nothing is taboo.
Actor-director Pooja Bhatt will soon be launching her own book on coming out of alcoholism. Ever since she had confessesed about her battle with the bottle to a Mumbai tabloid, it got an overwhelming response as it takes a lot of courage for any woman to open up to the fact that she had a problem with alcohol. Women across the country had reached out to her and shared their struggles with an issue that continues to remain a social stigma, a taboo. Bhatt had then said, “Women particularly are discouraged from seeking help because it’s a matter of shame for the family. .” Such was the talking point that Bhatt thought of catapulting herself at the forefront of a crusade of sorts. It was the genesis of a one-of-its-kind book that she is co-authoring with Roshmila Bhattacharya and which will be out in 2018.
Pointed out Bhatt, “I would like to emphasise that it is not an autobiography. At 45, I am too young to write my memoirs. As they say in filmi terms, Picture abhi baki hai, mere dost. But I can help others like me deal with their problem by talking about my journey.”
She points out that it has been exactly 10 months since she has touched liquor. “It hasn’t been easy but it hasn’t been too difficult either. A series of chapters in a book called life,” she asserts.
Swati Chopra, commissioning editor, Penguin Random House India, is excited about the project. “Pooja Bhatt’s forthcoming book is an incredibly brave one, about a topic that most people, especially women, would be hesitant to talk about in India. Pooja writes about overcoming alcoholism with courage and honesty that is rare, especially in image-conscious Bollywood, making this a truly groundbreaking book. And this will definitely not be a run-of-the-mill celebrity memoir.”
Following Bhatt’s candour is actor Nawazuddin Siddiqui, who has decided to speak in detail about his love life in his autobiography, admitting that he was selfish about his relationships with women and not shy of confessing that he gave in to his carnal needs many times.
Siddiqui had a passionate affair with his Miss lovely co-star Niharika Singh. And in the book he gives the details. “One day, while we were shooting a dance scene, something happened to my co-star Niharika Singh. When the director said, ‘Cut!’, she quietly rushed to her vanity van and stayed there. Something seemed to have happened to her. She was suddenly cold, went out of her way to maintain a distance from me and began to keep mum. I was puzzled. What was wrong with herIJ What had happenedIJ She used to be friendly, social and talk quite a bit. I thought it was best to ask her what had happened and so I did, not once, not twice, but several times, for several days. She responded that nothing had happened. I silenced my curiosity. I simply urged her to talk, be more social, that it was not healthy to be so quiet. After some days she began. I invited her over for a home-cooked meal, a mutton dish which was my speciality. She politely agreed and came over. The dish I had made for her turned out to be absolutely terrible. But she was too well-mannered to say so. Not only did she eat everything that was on her plate but she praised it as well. ‘Now you come to my house, Nawaz. I will cook mutton for you,’ she said warmly.
“For the very first time I went to Niharika’s house. I rang the doorbell, slightly nervous. When she opened the door, revealing a glimpse of the house, I was speechless with amazement. A hundred, or so it seemed, little candles flickered beautifully. She wore soft faux fur, looking devastatingly gorgeous, her beauty illuminated even more in the candlelight. And I, being the lusty village bumpkin that I am, scooped her up in my arms and headed straight for the bedroom.” That was the beginning of a one-and-a-half-year affair which she ended because he stayed away from emotional entanglements.
Siddiqui had once thought of marrying a Jewish girl called Suzanne. “We met in New York City and hit it off. She came to Mumbai and began to live with me. By then, Shamas (younger brother) and I had moved to Yari Road. Every few months, she kept extending her visa. It was a very sweet relationship. She was so lovely that the idea of marriage had begun to cross my mind, first in fleeting thoughts, and then slowly they turned into a decision. At the very last minute when I was about to propose, as if reading my mind, Suzanne said, ‘In my country it is divorce season right now.’ It was winter, famous for festivals and infamous for breakups in the West. Her brother had just gotten a divorce. Perhaps that was why she was afraid of marriage. ‘let’s wait and watch what we want to do. let’s see if we want to live together or not after a year,’ she said quietly. I was bewildered. Without telling her, I dropped the idea of marriage altogether. The shooting of Miss lovely commenced. Suzanne used to accompany me there. Then came the day when her visa expired and she needed to return to New York to sort it out. She was gone for many months.”
It was the relationship with Suzanne that speeded the demise of his relationship with Niharika Singh as she caught him two timing with the former.
“Anyway, coming back to the story, in the meantime, emails from Suzanne started coming. ‘Why are you not mailing me, NawazIJ What’s wrongIJ’ I did not respond, I did not have the courage to. I trusted my silence would convey what needed to be conveyed. When I was checking my inbox one day, Niharika happened to see one of her emails. ‘Who is thisIJ’ she inquired. ‘You know very well who it is,’ I said. ‘It’s Suzanne.’ ‘Wo-ow! It’s still going on between you two! Amazing!’Niharika thundered in anger. ‘It is wrong. I hope you know that.’ ‘No, Niharika, nothing is going on between us. Sometimes her emails come, that’s all. Slowly she will realise that Nawaz is not interested and she will stop emailing,’ I explained softly.
‘No, Nawaz! You must maintain clarity,’ she said. ‘All right! I will email her clearly then,’ I said. ‘No, you won’t. So I will email her,’ she said sternly. From that day, Niharika began to send emails to Suzanne from my email address. She would type, ‘I cannot continue with you . . .’ and sign off as me. Imagine the shock for Suzanne. She would send heartbreaking replies like: ‘What happened, NawazIJ Please tell me,Nawaz! . . . I am crying, Nawaz! Tell me, please.’ It was absolutely awful. I simply could not endure it! It was as if she was screaming, crying out aloud helplessly in unbearable pain. It was apparent that the emails had some sort of a multiple personality disorder. After a few of these email exchanges, Suzanne figured that this was not my voice at all. ‘Who is this writing, NawazIJ I know this is not you. Somebody else is with you,’ she wrote back. Imagine her plight—helplessly trying to solve a mystery from another continent and her only clues were those few emails. ‘Somebody else is making you write these emails. Tell me who is this personIJ’ she wrote.
‘Who is sheIJ Who is this b***hIJ’ ‘B***h!’ That word infuriated Niharika so much that she made me end all correspondence with Suzanne forever, then and there. I was very sad. Then I thought, so be it, it’s all right, I am with Niharika. My melancholy evaporated quickly.”
While the relationship with Singh lasted long, Siddiqui had a one night stand with a waitress in New York City. He says in the book, “Strangely, the West was kinder to me first, both in terms of love and work. I gained recognition there through my films which travelled to most festivals. I was at a cafe once with my friend in New York City’s Soho area. The stunning waitress kept staring at me. ‘Boss, you’re all set!’ My friend chuckled. I was not used to such attention, especially from the female kind. ‘YouIJ You are an actorIJ’ she asked a rhetorical question. ‘Yes!’ I replied. ‘Which film of mine did you seeIJ Gangs of WasseypurIJ’ She squinted, trying to remember, ‘No, no,’ she said. ‘Another film!’ After a few moments, she responded: ‘lunchbox!’ We got talking and let’s just say what happens in New York stays in New York, at least in my case. As you can probably guess from the titles of the films, this is a memory that happened way down the line when I had tasted the sweet nectar of success.”