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The Hit Girl
Asha Parekh was to the movies born. Ever since she was knee-high, she faced the camera as a child artiste, while performing simultaneously at dance fetes. An alumnus of Bombay’s The J. B. Petit Girls’ High School, she devoted after-school hours to learning classical dance from exacting gurus. Given a break as a leading lady by Filmalaya Studio’s Sashadhar Mukherjee, she debuted opposite Shammi Kapoor in the romantic entertainer Dil Deke Dekho. Instantaneously, the audience and the critics agreed: “A star is born.” Followed a concatenation of silver and golden jubilee hits, which established her as the quintessential Hit Girl. Possessed of all the requisites of the cinema of the 1960s and the ’70s – felicity at instinctive acting, intricate dance skills and the ability to invest conviction into the roles of zestful, glamour-exuding film heroines – she made an impact, too, with parts demanding gravitas. Apart from films in Hindi, she has also acted in films in Gujarati, Punjabi and a film in Kannada. The Mumbai film trade, to date, acknowledges her as one of the heroines with the highest number of successes. Her innumerable dance ballets on stage have earned her untold acclaim, at home and overseas. Among her other facets, she has been involved since decades in running a charitable hospital. She was Chairperson of the Central Board of Film Certification (1998-2001) and has been associated with the Cine and TV Artistes’ Associations and other organisations dedicated to the welfare of film industry workers, technicians and actors. She turned producer and director with several top TRP-rated TV serials like ‘Kora Kagaz’ and ‘Palash ke Phool’ and programmes like ‘Baaje Paayal’. Currently she has chosen to retire from acting, but adds, “Never say never.” She lives by the famed Juhu shoreline in Mumbai.
264 pages, Hardcover
Published January 1, 2017
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
September 12, 2017
I have never been a great fan of Asha Parekh. I mean, she was pleasant enough, and starred in some rather decent 60s entertainers, traipsing over hill and vale, romancing some of the biggest heroes of her time, getting to lip sync to some memorable songs... I did enjoy her presence when I watched these films. However, I didn't miss her when she wasn't on screen, nor did I watch a contemporary actress and sigh, 'I wish Asha Parekh had done this role.' She was, well, rather bland – in my opinion – and I could take her or leave her without overthinking the issue.
So, on a recent sojourn to India, when I was buying my usual quota of books – I brought back a whole suitcase of them – I dithered over buying her autobiography. Was I really interested enough to want to know more about her? I wasn't sure. Yet, she was one of the most successful actresses of her time, responsible for many pleasant hours I spent at the cinema, and what's one more book, after all? Even if it had a rather weird title? I succumbed to temptation and bought it.
Was it worth it?
The Hit Girl, co-authored with veteran journalist-screenwriter-filmmaker Khalid Mohammed, is a look back at the veteran actress's life and career.
Interestingly, the cover features the actress as she is today. 'Interestingly' because, typically, autobiographies feature the authors at their most presentable - which, in the case of actors, is usually a portrait of their younger selves. The book begins with a foreword by Salman Khan. While he rambles on at length, the tone is rather generic, and despite her closeness to the Khan family, a question arises – why Salman?
The foreword is followed by a long (very long) 'Author's Notes', and essays by directors Sanjay Leela Bhansali and Sai Paranjpye – neither of whom have worked with Asha Parekh. While Bhansali's five-page essay extolls her as 'born to be my heroine', Paranjpye's equally long essay titled 'Personally Speaking' talks about her interactions with the actress in Asha's capacity as CBFC chairman. It is not that the essays are tedious, but neither are they particularly interesting. By this time, I'm wondering whether I'm ever going to hear Asha's own voice.
However, once I waded grimly through the first 40 pages, the real story began.
Asha Parekh begins with the story of her parents' inter-religious wedding which cut them off from both their families for a period of time. She then goes on to chronicle her life and times as an actress, dancer, philanthropist, and television producer.
She narrates how she loved to dance and was not loth to do so at any given occasion. A dance performance attended by Bimal Roy led to the offer of a bit role in Maa (1952). A few years later, her dancing skills gave her the chance to perform alongside Vyjayanthimala in a dance sequence for Asha (1957). She speaks glowingly of the senior actress who helped her when she faltered.
Her first big break was Goonj Uthi Shehnai (1959) opposite Rajendra Kumar. Unfortunately, she was dropped after a few days' shooting – the director felt she was not 'heroine material'. Moreover, Ameeta, fresh from the success of Tumsa Nahin Dekha (1957) slashed her price in half. This rejection was a setback in more ways than one – committed to Vijay Bhatt for Goonj Uthi Shehnai meant that she lost out on signing a three-film contract with V Shantaram's Rajkamal Studios.
Sasadhar Mukherjee encouraged her to join Filmalaya's acting school. (There, Asha would meet another debutante waiting in the wings – Sadhana – who would one day become one of her closest friends.) Dil Deke Dekho (1959), her first full-fledged role as heroine, would not have happened but for a quirk of fate: RK Nayyar, who had become besotted with Sadhana, requested that he be the one to introduce the debutante in Love in Simla. This left Nasir Hussain with Asha Parekh, a professional relationship that kick started her career and morphed into something more serious.
Asha is honest in her acknowledgement of Sadhana’s versatility, preferring to see herself as the bubbly ingénue who could dance. There was no professional rivalry between them, nor with Saira Banu, who made an equally successful debut a couple of years later. That honesty is evident throughout the book, especially in her assessment of herself as a performer: she was ‘not likely to be the prime candidate for parts requiring implosive, soul-searching performances’ (Pg. 106), she says. She had refused Ismail Merchant’s The Householder (1963) because she was not confident of art-house cinema. There’s a twinge of regret – had she accepted the role, she may have evolved as an artiste.
However, she was now an extremely successful actress, and she gracefully acknowledges the directors who mentored and made her the actress she was – Nasir Hussain, Raj Khosla, Vijay Anand, Shakti Samanta, amongst others. Her reminiscences about her heroes are equally refreshing:
How Dev Anand was an enthusiastic, disciplined costar but kept to himself after the shooting was over.
How Shammi Kapoor taught her to lip sync to songs and Geeta Bali helped with her makeup. (The latter even wanted Asha to call her ‘chachi’ (aunt) – which she did, though she baulked at calling her hero, ‘chacha’.)
How Sunil Dutt was shy and couldn’t bring himself to embrace her for a scene in front of her mother.
How Rajendranath once sent her flowers along with a card saying ‘Mujhe dil deke dekhoji.'
How Guru Dutt refused to talk to her unless she gave him one box of cashew nuts.
How Bharat Bhushan (and Hrishikesh Mukherjee) weaned her off Mills & Boons and influenced her reading.
How Rajesh Khanna was anything but arrogant and difficult.
How Shashi Kapoor once fooled her into believing he was a woman.
There are some other interesting tidbits:
How Asha was often seemingly 'possessed' by the spirit of a woodcutter’s wife, and still believes in rebirth.
How she was a tomboy right through her childhood, and saw her role in Ziddi (1964) as an extension of herself.
How Premnath spotted her dancing and insisted on her performing for Madhubala, Nimmi, and his wife, Bina Rai, proclaiming that she was ‘born to dance’.
How her real name could have been Zulekha or Gangubai, and, if left to Dilip Kumar, her reel name may have been Asha 'Pari'.
There are a few regrets, both personal and professional – of falling in love with Nasir Hussain but not wanting to break up his marriage or be the other woman.
Of not being able to work with Satyajit Ray who wanted to cast her in Kanchenjunga, due to a paucity of dates.
Of missing out on opportunities to work with Raj Kapoor, Dilip Kumar, and K Asif.
Of foolishly refusing Aradhana.
Asha slides over controversies – of allegedly passing an uncomplimentary remark about Dilip Kumar.
Of being accused of deleting Simi Garewal’s scenes in Do Badan, Laxmi Chhaya’s role in Mera Gaon Mera Desh, and Aruna Irani’s role in Caravan.
Of refusing a film opposite Amitabh Bachchan because he wasn’t a big star.
Of a long-standing feud with Shatrughan Sinha.
Of having begged a politician for a Padma Bhushan.
No book about Asha Parekh would be complete without a mention of her dancing – a whole chapter is devoted to her training in Kathak and Bharatnatyam, and her successful dance tours across the country and abroad. She also talks about her foray into Gujarati films and other regional cinema, as well as her stint as a television producer and CBFC chief.
Asha writes honestly about her disenchantment with the marginalised ‘mummy-ji’ roles she was being offered, her bouts of depression after the deaths of her parents, and her interest in social causes. She speaks warmly of her best friends – Waheeda Rehman, Shammi, Helen, Saira Banu, the late Sadhana and Nanda. It is a life well lived, and she does come across as someone who has no major regrets, not even about her ‘single’ status.
All good.
So why did I feel dissatisfied when I finished the book? Yes, the book could have done with the services of a good editor – there are a couple of jumps in the narrative that are discordant. But that's not the reason. Mohammed is a veteran journalist and writes well. That's not it, either. Perhaps it is the sanitised feel of the narrative. Perhaps Asha Parekh did not want any more controversies. Perhaps she felt the need to play safe. Whatever the reason, the book presents but a superficial view of an actress who was once considered a style icon and a lucky mascot.
So, on a recent sojourn to India, when I was buying my usual quota of books – I brought back a whole suitcase of them – I dithered over buying her autobiography. Was I really interested enough to want to know more about her? I wasn't sure. Yet, she was one of the most successful actresses of her time, responsible for many pleasant hours I spent at the cinema, and what's one more book, after all? Even if it had a rather weird title? I succumbed to temptation and bought it.
Was it worth it?
The Hit Girl, co-authored with veteran journalist-screenwriter-filmmaker Khalid Mohammed, is a look back at the veteran actress's life and career.
Interestingly, the cover features the actress as she is today. 'Interestingly' because, typically, autobiographies feature the authors at their most presentable - which, in the case of actors, is usually a portrait of their younger selves. The book begins with a foreword by Salman Khan. While he rambles on at length, the tone is rather generic, and despite her closeness to the Khan family, a question arises – why Salman?
The foreword is followed by a long (very long) 'Author's Notes', and essays by directors Sanjay Leela Bhansali and Sai Paranjpye – neither of whom have worked with Asha Parekh. While Bhansali's five-page essay extolls her as 'born to be my heroine', Paranjpye's equally long essay titled 'Personally Speaking' talks about her interactions with the actress in Asha's capacity as CBFC chairman. It is not that the essays are tedious, but neither are they particularly interesting. By this time, I'm wondering whether I'm ever going to hear Asha's own voice.
However, once I waded grimly through the first 40 pages, the real story began.
Asha Parekh begins with the story of her parents' inter-religious wedding which cut them off from both their families for a period of time. She then goes on to chronicle her life and times as an actress, dancer, philanthropist, and television producer.
She narrates how she loved to dance and was not loth to do so at any given occasion. A dance performance attended by Bimal Roy led to the offer of a bit role in Maa (1952). A few years later, her dancing skills gave her the chance to perform alongside Vyjayanthimala in a dance sequence for Asha (1957). She speaks glowingly of the senior actress who helped her when she faltered.
Her first big break was Goonj Uthi Shehnai (1959) opposite Rajendra Kumar. Unfortunately, she was dropped after a few days' shooting – the director felt she was not 'heroine material'. Moreover, Ameeta, fresh from the success of Tumsa Nahin Dekha (1957) slashed her price in half. This rejection was a setback in more ways than one – committed to Vijay Bhatt for Goonj Uthi Shehnai meant that she lost out on signing a three-film contract with V Shantaram's Rajkamal Studios.
Sasadhar Mukherjee encouraged her to join Filmalaya's acting school. (There, Asha would meet another debutante waiting in the wings – Sadhana – who would one day become one of her closest friends.) Dil Deke Dekho (1959), her first full-fledged role as heroine, would not have happened but for a quirk of fate: RK Nayyar, who had become besotted with Sadhana, requested that he be the one to introduce the debutante in Love in Simla. This left Nasir Hussain with Asha Parekh, a professional relationship that kick started her career and morphed into something more serious.
Asha is honest in her acknowledgement of Sadhana’s versatility, preferring to see herself as the bubbly ingénue who could dance. There was no professional rivalry between them, nor with Saira Banu, who made an equally successful debut a couple of years later. That honesty is evident throughout the book, especially in her assessment of herself as a performer: she was ‘not likely to be the prime candidate for parts requiring implosive, soul-searching performances’ (Pg. 106), she says. She had refused Ismail Merchant’s The Householder (1963) because she was not confident of art-house cinema. There’s a twinge of regret – had she accepted the role, she may have evolved as an artiste.
However, she was now an extremely successful actress, and she gracefully acknowledges the directors who mentored and made her the actress she was – Nasir Hussain, Raj Khosla, Vijay Anand, Shakti Samanta, amongst others. Her reminiscences about her heroes are equally refreshing:
How Dev Anand was an enthusiastic, disciplined costar but kept to himself after the shooting was over.
How Shammi Kapoor taught her to lip sync to songs and Geeta Bali helped with her makeup. (The latter even wanted Asha to call her ‘chachi’ (aunt) – which she did, though she baulked at calling her hero, ‘chacha’.)
How Sunil Dutt was shy and couldn’t bring himself to embrace her for a scene in front of her mother.
How Rajendranath once sent her flowers along with a card saying ‘Mujhe dil deke dekhoji.'
How Guru Dutt refused to talk to her unless she gave him one box of cashew nuts.
How Bharat Bhushan (and Hrishikesh Mukherjee) weaned her off Mills & Boons and influenced her reading.
How Rajesh Khanna was anything but arrogant and difficult.
How Shashi Kapoor once fooled her into believing he was a woman.
There are some other interesting tidbits:
How Asha was often seemingly 'possessed' by the spirit of a woodcutter’s wife, and still believes in rebirth.
How she was a tomboy right through her childhood, and saw her role in Ziddi (1964) as an extension of herself.
How Premnath spotted her dancing and insisted on her performing for Madhubala, Nimmi, and his wife, Bina Rai, proclaiming that she was ‘born to dance’.
How her real name could have been Zulekha or Gangubai, and, if left to Dilip Kumar, her reel name may have been Asha 'Pari'.
There are a few regrets, both personal and professional – of falling in love with Nasir Hussain but not wanting to break up his marriage or be the other woman.
Of not being able to work with Satyajit Ray who wanted to cast her in Kanchenjunga, due to a paucity of dates.
Of missing out on opportunities to work with Raj Kapoor, Dilip Kumar, and K Asif.
Of foolishly refusing Aradhana.
Asha slides over controversies – of allegedly passing an uncomplimentary remark about Dilip Kumar.
Of being accused of deleting Simi Garewal’s scenes in Do Badan, Laxmi Chhaya’s role in Mera Gaon Mera Desh, and Aruna Irani’s role in Caravan.
Of refusing a film opposite Amitabh Bachchan because he wasn’t a big star.
Of a long-standing feud with Shatrughan Sinha.
Of having begged a politician for a Padma Bhushan.
No book about Asha Parekh would be complete without a mention of her dancing – a whole chapter is devoted to her training in Kathak and Bharatnatyam, and her successful dance tours across the country and abroad. She also talks about her foray into Gujarati films and other regional cinema, as well as her stint as a television producer and CBFC chief.
Asha writes honestly about her disenchantment with the marginalised ‘mummy-ji’ roles she was being offered, her bouts of depression after the deaths of her parents, and her interest in social causes. She speaks warmly of her best friends – Waheeda Rehman, Shammi, Helen, Saira Banu, the late Sadhana and Nanda. It is a life well lived, and she does come across as someone who has no major regrets, not even about her ‘single’ status.
All good.
So why did I feel dissatisfied when I finished the book? Yes, the book could have done with the services of a good editor – there are a couple of jumps in the narrative that are discordant. But that's not the reason. Mohammed is a veteran journalist and writes well. That's not it, either. Perhaps it is the sanitised feel of the narrative. Perhaps Asha Parekh did not want any more controversies. Perhaps she felt the need to play safe. Whatever the reason, the book presents but a superficial view of an actress who was once considered a style icon and a lucky mascot.
April 26, 2017
I picked it up only because it was co-authored by Khalid Mohammad. The first thing that struck me about the book was its simple, lucid and yet attention holding narrative. It's simple, matter of fact style autobiography. It does not make a big deal out of anything that has happened in Asha Parekh's life. It comes across as honest. I liked that about the books. I also enjoyed several photographs. One of the things that impressed me about her is that she comes across as a happy, positive person. She has nothing negative to say about others. She does not come across as a sulking woman. In fact, after reading the book, I felt that he has adopted a very healthy, constructive way of approaching her everyday life. She has an eco-system of her own that includes, her friends, family, domestic help and he phenomenal charity work with the hospital.
Several decades ago, my mother worked for a OPD center called Jeevan Vikas Kendra in the suburbs of Mumbai and once Asha Parekhji had visited the center since she was planning to make some donations there. I am sure she did going forward but her contribution to society has been great and that too consistently over the last several decades.
Through the biography, I also felt that the lives of these performing artistes are complicated and slightly delusional as well. It involves hard work, upward management, being confident and yet, being positive and appear joyful. That's a tough job.
"I liked the tone of "The Hit Girl". I liked her renditions on assorted topics. It would be very interesting to meet her and have a short conversation with her. Albeit, if that ever comes true.
Several decades ago, my mother worked for a OPD center called Jeevan Vikas Kendra in the suburbs of Mumbai and once Asha Parekhji had visited the center since she was planning to make some donations there. I am sure she did going forward but her contribution to society has been great and that too consistently over the last several decades.
Through the biography, I also felt that the lives of these performing artistes are complicated and slightly delusional as well. It involves hard work, upward management, being confident and yet, being positive and appear joyful. That's a tough job.
"I liked the tone of "The Hit Girl". I liked her renditions on assorted topics. It would be very interesting to meet her and have a short conversation with her. Albeit, if that ever comes true.
October 19, 2019
Ah well autobiographies I do love them and let me start with that yes Asha Parekh wasn't my favorite what with the fact that by the time I was born and got big enough to watch the movies she had already retired but I sure loved the fact that her book led to me to enjoy few songs from the yesteryears. I liked the stories and the notes by different people too. The best part was that unlike other biographies where you might have few pages of photos here we had photos on almost each page and I wasn't averse to remembering her time with stars along with her.
This was a fun read and I liked it good enough and I would definitely recommend what with the style of photos on each page. Then so long.
People who don't read generally ask me my reasons for reading. Simply put I just love reading and so to that end I have made it my motto to just Keep on Reading. I love to read everything except for Self Help books but even those once in a while. I read almost all the genre but YA, Fantasy, Biographies are the most. My favorite series is of course Harry Potter but then there are many more books that I just adore. I have bookcases filled with books which are waiting to be read so can't stay and spend more time in this review, so remember I loved reading this and love reading more, you should also read what you love and then just Keep on Reading.
This was a fun read and I liked it good enough and I would definitely recommend what with the style of photos on each page. Then so long.
People who don't read generally ask me my reasons for reading. Simply put I just love reading and so to that end I have made it my motto to just Keep on Reading. I love to read everything except for Self Help books but even those once in a while. I read almost all the genre but YA, Fantasy, Biographies are the most. My favorite series is of course Harry Potter but then there are many more books that I just adore. I have bookcases filled with books which are waiting to be read so can't stay and spend more time in this review, so remember I loved reading this and love reading more, you should also read what you love and then just Keep on Reading.
January 28, 2018
Breezy read, not unlike Asha Parekh's films. Packed with shooting stills, posters, memorabilia pics and what not. Extremely well-designed, almost like a coffee-table book. Holds Asha Parekh's voice almost throughout, smoothened by - what I suspect is - Khalid Mohamed's writing panache.
August 27, 2018
I have never been a great fan of Asha Parekh....I mean, she was pleasant enough, and starred in some rather decent 60s entertainers, traipsing over hill and vale, romancing some of the biggest heroes of her time, getting to lip sync to some memorable songs... I did enjoy her presence when I watched these films. However, I didn't miss her when she wasn't on screen, nor did I watch a contemporary actress and sigh, 'I wish Asha Parekh had done this role.'
She was, well, rather bland – in my opinion.
Asha begins with the story of her parents' inter-religious wedding which cut them off from both their families for a period of time. She then goes on to chronicle her life and times as an actress, dancer, philanthropist, and television producer.
She gracefully acknowledges the directors who mentored and made her the actress she was – Nasir Hussain, Raj Khosla, Vijay Anand, Shakti Samanta, amongst others.
Her reminiscences about her heroes are equally refreshing:
How Dev Anand was an enthusiastic, disciplined costar but kept to himself after the shooting was over.
How Shammi Kapoor taught her to lip sync to songs and Geeta Bali helped with her makeup.
How Sunil Dutt was shy and couldn’t bring himself to embrace her for a scene in front of her mother.
How Rajendranath once sent her flowers along with a card saying ‘Mujhe dil deke dekhoji.'
How Guru Dutt refused to talk to her unless she gave him one box of cashew nuts.
How Bharat Bhushan (and Hrishikesh Mukherjee) weaned her off Mills & Boons and influenced her reading.
How Rajesh Khanna was anything but arrogant and difficult.
How Shashi Kapoor once fooled her into believing he was a woman.
There are some other interesting tidbits:
How Asha was often seemingly 'possessed' by the spirit of a woodcutter’s wife, and still believes in rebirth.
How she was a tomboy right through her childhood, and saw her role in Ziddi as an extension of herself.
How Premnath spotted her dancing and insisted on her performing for Madhubala, Nimmi, and his wife, Bina Rai, proclaiming that she was ‘born to dance’.
How her real name could have been Zulekha or Gangubai, and, if left to Dilip Kumar, her reel name may have been Asha 'Pari'.
There are a few regrets, both personal and professional – of falling in love with Nasir Hussain but not wanting to break up his marriage or be the other woman.
Of not being able to work with Satyajit Ray who wanted to cast her in Kanchenjunga, due to a paucity of dates.
Of missing out on opportunities to work with Raj Kapoor, Dilip Kumar, and K Asif.
Of foolishly refusing Aradhana.
Asha slides over controversies – of allegedly passing an uncomplimentary remark about Dilip Kumar.
Of being accused of deleting Simi Garewal’s scenes in Do Badan, Laxmi Chhaya’s role in Mera Gaon Mera Desh, and Aruna Irani’s role in Caravan.
Of refusing a film opposite Amitabh Bachchan because he wasn’t a big star.
Of a long-standing feud with Shatrughan Sinha.
Of having begged a politician for a Padma Bhushan.
The book holds Parekh's voice almost throughout, smoothened by - what I suspect is - Khalid Mohamed's writing panache
She was, well, rather bland – in my opinion.
Asha begins with the story of her parents' inter-religious wedding which cut them off from both their families for a period of time. She then goes on to chronicle her life and times as an actress, dancer, philanthropist, and television producer.
She gracefully acknowledges the directors who mentored and made her the actress she was – Nasir Hussain, Raj Khosla, Vijay Anand, Shakti Samanta, amongst others.
Her reminiscences about her heroes are equally refreshing:
How Dev Anand was an enthusiastic, disciplined costar but kept to himself after the shooting was over.
How Shammi Kapoor taught her to lip sync to songs and Geeta Bali helped with her makeup.
How Sunil Dutt was shy and couldn’t bring himself to embrace her for a scene in front of her mother.
How Rajendranath once sent her flowers along with a card saying ‘Mujhe dil deke dekhoji.'
How Guru Dutt refused to talk to her unless she gave him one box of cashew nuts.
How Bharat Bhushan (and Hrishikesh Mukherjee) weaned her off Mills & Boons and influenced her reading.
How Rajesh Khanna was anything but arrogant and difficult.
How Shashi Kapoor once fooled her into believing he was a woman.
There are some other interesting tidbits:
How Asha was often seemingly 'possessed' by the spirit of a woodcutter’s wife, and still believes in rebirth.
How she was a tomboy right through her childhood, and saw her role in Ziddi as an extension of herself.
How Premnath spotted her dancing and insisted on her performing for Madhubala, Nimmi, and his wife, Bina Rai, proclaiming that she was ‘born to dance’.
How her real name could have been Zulekha or Gangubai, and, if left to Dilip Kumar, her reel name may have been Asha 'Pari'.
There are a few regrets, both personal and professional – of falling in love with Nasir Hussain but not wanting to break up his marriage or be the other woman.
Of not being able to work with Satyajit Ray who wanted to cast her in Kanchenjunga, due to a paucity of dates.
Of missing out on opportunities to work with Raj Kapoor, Dilip Kumar, and K Asif.
Of foolishly refusing Aradhana.
Asha slides over controversies – of allegedly passing an uncomplimentary remark about Dilip Kumar.
Of being accused of deleting Simi Garewal’s scenes in Do Badan, Laxmi Chhaya’s role in Mera Gaon Mera Desh, and Aruna Irani’s role in Caravan.
Of refusing a film opposite Amitabh Bachchan because he wasn’t a big star.
Of a long-standing feud with Shatrughan Sinha.
Of having begged a politician for a Padma Bhushan.
The book holds Parekh's voice almost throughout, smoothened by - what I suspect is - Khalid Mohamed's writing panache
Read
February 2, 2021There are people in foreign countries who are very fine actors and after I saw Asha Parekh in about 6 really great Bollywood films, I wondered what kind of a person is she? And I had read that she never married. And I wondered, why? And is she happy now? If she is, how did she manage that? And she never cared what anyone thought about her being a single woman leading an independent life? How did she manage that? All this and more is contained in this book. Her advice on how to survive and how to hold your ground and be yourself no matter what is pricelessly valuable. This hardcover book is one of most beautifully designed and produced books I have ever seen in either America or India. It's printed in an elegant font on quality paper with awesome black and white and color photographs sometimes assembled on coordinated color backgrounds where even the type sometimes in a different color. Readers find out all about the best actors, directors, composers and dance choreographers of the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s, when foreign investment began changing how Hindi language films were made. Parekh is a smart superwoman who became a television series producer, helped fund and get funding for a still existing continually expanding Mumbai hospital named after her. And she also worked on the establishment of welfare groups to help older screen and television stars fallen on hard times. And she has spoken for women being offered the opportunities that men are more often always given in India. This book should be very appealing to women in America because Asha very frankly explains how she has been able to survive as a single woman in an industry that often refuses to favor women after they've reached a certain age. This is an awesome book written by an elegant, practical former Hindi film actress, who just happens to be an incredible human being!
May 8, 2022
4.5 stars!! Not giving it solid 5 because I knew I was gonna love this book and hence I expected so much from it. Much as in more behind the scenes from the film set, some interesting incidents. Also there were only a few mentions of the actresses of her time which kinda disappointed me.
But overall I absolutely loved it. I'm not really into autobiographies but I knew I was gonna enjoy it. And I did, I so did...
The book is beautifully designed with some rare pictures of her which left me stunned. I kept staring the pictures. I have immense respect for Asha ji and I must say she has blessed me with this book. Being a major old Hindi films fan, I'll cherish this book and will come back to this book whenever I need to have a moment alone with the era of 1960s.
But overall I absolutely loved it. I'm not really into autobiographies but I knew I was gonna enjoy it. And I did, I so did...
The book is beautifully designed with some rare pictures of her which left me stunned. I kept staring the pictures. I have immense respect for Asha ji and I must say she has blessed me with this book. Being a major old Hindi films fan, I'll cherish this book and will come back to this book whenever I need to have a moment alone with the era of 1960s.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews