Theory of Relativity

Just one of the asides of having your father double up as a colleague. When discussions start even before you’ve put down the toothbrush and continue way past dinner. So much so that ‘‘mom just gets up and walks off. After three hours, she can’t take any more,’’ says Rangita. It’s bad enough when a person is like Pritish Nandy, (founder Pritish Nandy Communications), for whom life and work are inseparable and who can never switch off (‘‘I envy Rangita in this,’’ he says), but it’s worse when the obsessive gene has been passed on to the progeny as well.

Ad man and director Alyque Padamsee is someone who thinks there’s no such thing as too many rehearsals. Add to this kind of obsession a son who is equally focussed and you have conversations that are well—focussed. ‘‘We are both slightly obsessive people and when working together, we talk of little else. Which is why though I enjoy working with him, I have more fun with him when I’m not,’’ says Quasar, whose father directed Quasar Theatre Production’s play Romeo and Juliet and who more recently acted in excerpts from Death of a Salesman for Padamsee.

While Rangita too rues that working with dad gives them less time as father and daughter, for couples sharing the same professional space, it means more time together. ‘‘We keep thinking how we’ll manage if we have to work in different serials,’’ says Gauri Tonk who is married to her screen brother-in-law Yash Tonk in Kahiin Kissi Roz. “We are constantly communicating with each other,” adds Praful Chandawarkar who runs Pune’s Malaka Spice restaurant with wife Cheeru.

‘‘Besides, we get to know a lot more about each other. Much more than if you did a nine-to-five job,” says Jaipur-based John Singh who along with wife Faith, is the creator of the popular Anokhi brand of textiles. ‘‘If you are married to someone you work with, you share the eight to 10 hours that separate other couples. You don’t have to come home and start off with, darling what did you do today,’’ he adds.

Ditto for choreographer Marc Robinson and wife and model Waluscha. ‘‘I’ve been offered many jobs but I like fashion. Besides, for me it’s more important to spend time with my family,’’ says Marc. Which is how cue-sheets are called out at home while the baby is asleep and songs for shows picked out of regular TV viewing.

It’s also very convenient. ‘‘Waluscha does all my shows and especially after the baby, she can come and go when she wants,’’ points out Marc.

Dreams that Rangita dreamt too. Training at O&M and Percept, she was working ‘insane hours’. So when her father asked her to join PNC, ‘‘the temptation was strong,’’ she recalls. Rangita thought the restrictions would be slacker and she could take a break when she wanted. Only to find that it was the opposite.

That’s another thing. No special treatment. ‘‘If she screws up on stage, I’ll reprimand her there and then,’’ insists Marc. ‘‘At rehearsals, he’s AP just like he is to everyone else,’’ says Quasar. Sometimes, they even go out of their way to be careful. ‘‘In a political party, to work with your brother, friend, relative, you have to be very careful you are not sending a wrong message. In my 22 years I have never suggested a ticket for another Deora,’’ says Congress leader Murli Deora, adding, ‘‘maybe there wasn’t a Deora ready yet.’’ Though not together on the political stage yet, son Milind handles the utilisation of Deora’s MP fund, using it in a free computer education project for schools in Mumbai.

While Savita Bhatti, who handles production for husband Jaspal Bhatti’s satires, may complement her husband, she does have one complaint. ‘‘Her only shikayat is that I give her smaller roles. But then I don’t want people to say it was a family production!’’ says Jaspal.

There may be no special treatment, but no one can deny the existence of the double relationship. ‘‘Deep down I know she’s not just another model,’’ says Marc. While Nandy resents the fact that Rangita prefers to be more of a colleague. ‘‘I want her to be a daughter at work,’’ he says. A fact that washes all of Rangita’s efforts down the drain.

‘‘As it is you get subtle flak at office for being the boss’s daughter. And then sometimes in the middle of a meeting he’ll go, ‘gimme a kiss,’… it’s so embarrassing!’’’ she says, throwing up her hands in despair.

Playing several roles in relation to each other also brings other asides. Take the case of Padamsee who directed a play for daughter Raell. Since she was the producer, technically she was the boss. ‘‘But because she’s my daughter, I wanted her to listen to me. Though in the end she would get her way,’’ he says. ‘‘While when Sharon produced Evita, it was a burden on her when I came home and cribbed to her.’’

And a fashion choreographer calls the shots when it comes to the ramp, right? Wrong, if one of the models is also your wife. ‘‘Waluscha has a huge hand in who I book for the show,’’ says Marc as his wife adds, ‘‘so all the women better watch out!’’

It’s a tricky tightrope, this trying to be a professional and a human being. Are the tensions and disagreements offset by the instinctive knowledge of what the other person wants, by the unquestioning loyalty that a personal relationship brings to a professional set up? ‘‘I would advise don’t ever work with anyone related to you. It helps neither the professional relationship nor the personal,’’ says Padamsee.

Considering that he’s worked with three wives, a daughter and a son, count that as the voice of experience. Or take it with a pinch of salt.

(With inputs from Jaskiran Kaur/Chandigarh, Anuradha Nagraj/Jaipur and Uma Karve/Pune)