As we slowly meandered up Pali Hill and entered Nargis Dutt Road, the taxi driver mildly rattled off the residences of the who’s who in Bollywood pointing his hand to the right and left. We went past Sashi Kapoor’s, Jitendra’s and took a left turn in search of Imperial Heights. Pali Hill wore a homely calm in the afternoon sun as a few security guards sat under a huge tree immersed in friendly chatter right in front of Imperial Heights. An old man, who was guarding the Imperial Heights picked up the phone and asked us again to confirm whether we have come from Delhi. Please go up to the 11th floor, he said in immaculate English.

Shankar was at the door to welcome us. At first sight it was Khaleem talking to someone on his mobile phone facing the transparent glass wall looking far into the black and gold Arabian sea. He came up to greet us. At the far end of the house, safe inside his bar was the man himself, actor and protagonist of the gangster genre in India, Bollywood’s own Al Pacino. He was busy speaking to someone on his phone. He looked into us as though the glass wall that separated the bar from his living room never existed sitting there, truly like a lion. After a few minutes, he walked out of his bar and strode into his living room to greet us. He stood eyeball to eyeball donning a white floral short kurta that gracefully gave way to show his twin layer of white and golden beads, a chain with golden coin of Lord Balaji of Tiruppati inscribed, on his neck. He was a wearing a pale blue gunshot jeans that would have made John Travolta think a thousand times twenty years back. Yet, now, Sanjay Dutt at forty-seven was looking utterly stylish which could have made look Howard Saint (John Travolta in The Punisher) a sinner. A huge golden Rolex with a green dial and a black bezel kept time on his left wrist while his left hand clutched a pack of Marlboro cigarettes. He radiated the combined grace and elegance of his parents, Nargis and Sanjay Dutt, as he firmly shook hands with warmth.

He sat in the corner of a black and soft-grey leather sofa with prominent black cross-stitches on its edges. Majestic, at ease, his right leg at right angle to his left and his right hand on the arm of the sofa, his left hand sliding over his pointed black and brown triangle-patterned leather shoes, he fielded questions with outright honesty and without a whiff of pretension. “No I have not read Gandhiji’s My Experiments with Truth” he said during the interview. Not just the mere looks, he has the face of a lion with a flowing mane tattooed on the inside of his broad right forearm, written Simba beneath it. He turned his forearm inside to show us his Simba. “This is nothing, see this”, he said while pulling the left inside of his shirt to show his beloved deity with childlike innocence. On his towering left shoulder Lord Shiv sat there with Om Nav Shiva sloka written under it as if Sanjay Dutt’s shoulder was a Himalayan abode.

If there was a word that could have described 11, Imperial Heights it was minimalist. The western side of his living room had a row of chairs with young bamboo, palms and other potted plants behind them on the terrace. On the southern side, outside the bar, a flight of wooden stairs ran to the first level of his house. As you enter his house, a huge red painting of an unknown artist hangs on the eastern side of the wall with the sketch of a brooding man on it. Abhishek Bachchan’s gift to Sanjay Dutt adorns the southern side of the wall. Another unknown artist has poured so much of life into the painting that a moustached and French-bearded Sanjay Dutt looks directly into the beholder’s eye with his arresting looks, his hand almost reaching for you and the other holding a cigarette in hand, looking down with pregnant thoughts- all awash in red, blue and black. Both in the painting and in real life, Sanjay Dutt’s eyes are dreamy as much as they are mesmerizing. “I am same Sanjay Dutt who is sitting in front of you and the one who appears in movies”, he says. The look is one of kingly primal as if the lord of the jungle is just about to cripple the prey with its looks before the final blow. Yet gleaming with knowing affection. Affectionately, they all call him Babaji from the old man at the gate to Shankar and Mangala who have been with him for the past fifteen years.

“I can’t be alone. I am not this academic to spend time alone. I need to be with people”, says Sanjay Dutt. “But to be without parents is a sad feeling. We (brother and sister) sometimes get together and realize that we are orphans”, he laments. Suddenly, his eyes turn rheumy on being asked whether he missed his father during the making of Lage Raho. “Yes, I miss him. He was a great man. I am so proud of him. He lived and died for the country. I am trying to step into his shoes and delegate responsibilities but that is a tall order. But I am trying.” There is a characteristic ease and thoughtful ponder on his face when he answers the questions. At the same time, he is quick with his replies. Initially when he came on the phone, he said, “I am pretty quick with interviews, yaar.” He was, indeed.

He quickly gets over his characters that he portrays in his films. “After the shooting is over, I am through with the role and character”, he says. But Lage Raho has affected him, not just the success of the film but the background inspired the film’s success, Bapu.

“My nephew and niece tell me they see everyday change when they visit the Coffee Days and Baristas. They don’t anymore throw cigarette butts on the road. It is impacting people in a small way like never before.”

Phone calls and door bells punctuate the interview. He quietly hands over the phone to Khaleem without interrupting his conversation. Kumar Gaurav, his brother in-law dressed in a pale orange shirt and blue jeans with a cap walked in, threw a glance at us and consigned himself to a barstool inside the bar. Before walking into the bar Kumar Gaurav says, “We have to be there at 545”. And Sanjay slowly turned his head, acknowledged and went ahead with the interview.

Asked if he could name a few films that marked his career, he looked up, thought for a while and said with meaningful pauses, “Mission Kashmir, Shabd, Vaastav, Lage Raho. I am happy with what I have done,”

He talked fondly about his daughter Trishla who is in now in the America studying criminal law. “I am so proud of her. She has recently joined the John College of Criminal justice. I feel so good. To be accepted in a college like that it is a prestigious issue. I was so proud of her when she said she wanted to help people who are in need. She is doing criminal law and she is specializing in forensic law. In the due course I would want to retire and live off her money because lawyers make a lot of money.”

He stood there again after the interview with an air of familiarity eye ball to eye ball, this time the handshake as firm as it was in the beginning, but more warmer. The tamed afternoon sun flung a prismatic chiaroscuro inside Sanjay Dutt’s house adding to his radiance. His smile, genuine giggle has not still lost its sheen, the charm or even the childlike innocence. A black and white picture with Sanjay Dutt in his teens flanked by his parents on the eastern side of his home is visible proof. He was rushing off to keep another appointment with his brother-in-law. Inside a black Mercedes, on the wheel, as he moved out of Imperial Heights, he raised his right hand to say goodbye and his car vanished out of sight leaving the thoughts of a memorable, engaging and delightful interview with actor Sanjay Dutt.

Source: gettothechase.blogspot.com

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