A lifetime of laughter

“I was an extremely mischievous kid,” reminisces this actor, who is now confined to his chair for most of the day. “By the time I was in Std. IV, I had changed 16 schools.” But that did not stop him from getting into trouble. Sometimes, these childhood tricks were also violent. Says Mehmood, “Whatever memory I have of my childhood are from the time I was about nine years old. I draw a blank when it comes to the earlier years. When we were staying at Malad, I remember an incident that occurred when we were playing cricket.

“Our team had won but the opposite side refused to pay us the promised money. I got so angry that I lifted the stump and threw it at one of the boys. Unfortunately, it hit him on his knee and his leg had to be amputated.”

Later, when he had established himself as an actor, he paid up for this childish prank. “The least I could do was to help set him up in his retail fruit business.” But this is not something he admits to easily. “I don’t like tom-tomming about helping people. It somehow cheapens the entire thing.”

Just like the surprise he feels at being recognised in his old age, Mehmood, for a long time, could not figure out how he became what he was, a comedian. “When I was doing films, I was so busy enjoying life that introspection never came to me. I never thought that I’d be old one day, so I had no plans for retirement.”

Mehmood came face to face with old age when he had his first heart attack. “I was house-bound for a while, and when my son brought home a video and some tapes of my earlier films, I realised that I was old. Watching myself in those films, I understood that I would never be able to do all that again.

“So, now I have all the time in the world to think. I wake up at 4.30 a.m, and lying on my bed, a million questions go around in my mind. The other day I asked myself, How did I become a comedian when I started out as a villain?’

“I had all the makings of the bad guy – big build, big eyes. In fact, I even acted as one in Abhimaan. But Sasural launched me as a comedian. So how did this happen? I think it has to do with the way I am. Right since childhood, I was very observant. I would imitate the way my parents spoke, the manner in which my aunt walked and so on. And this is a trait that I carried into adulthood.

“Though I did do a villain’s role, in my personal life, I have always believed that I was born to make people laugh. In fact, even the way I greeted my colleagues and seniors made them laugh. With Ashok Kumar, I’d always hide on the sets and yell Pandurang,’ to which he’d reply Tukaram.’ With Shobha Khote, it was a drawn-out Bhaaaaai,’ and for Pran, I’d call out Mehmood’ and he’d reply Bhopal Aay Gaya’.

When Mehmood decided to take a break from films, it was little things like these that he began to miss. “I was into horses and agriculture and though these were satisfying, I began to miss things like the smell of make-up, I would think of what Dharmendra would be doing in Mumbai at the moment, what they’d be shooting at the studios. So my wife suggested that I start work again.”

But once again, insecurity struck. “What if my colleagues did not remember me? But I went anyway. The first day, I went to where Dadamoni (Ashok Kumar) was shooting, and like in the past, hid myself and yelled Pandurang!’ It was only when he yelled back Tukaram,’ and began searching for me, that I was relieved.”

Wherever he went, he was given a warm welcome. All the doubts he had about his colleagues were dispelled. Though the insecurity of being forgotten still persists. For he cannot play pranks or act in movies to grab attention now. So when there is a request for an autograph, he is thrilled. “It means they still remember me”.