Sunday 25 July 2021

SHYAMA , HINDI ACTRESS BORN 1935 JUNE 7 -2017 NOVEMBER 14

 


SHYAMA , HINDI ACTRESS BORN 

1935 JUNE 7 -2017 NOVEMBER 14

Shyama (born Khurshid Akhtar); (7 June 1935 – 14 November 2017) was an Indian film actress. She was active between 1945–1989. She is best known for her roles in Aar Paar and Barsaat Ki Raat.



Life and career[edit]

She was born in 1935 in a Muslim family.

Career[edit]

Shyama arrived in Mumbai from Lahore in the 1940s. As a young girl, she acted in a few films such as Noor Jehan's husband Shauqat Rizvi's Zeenat (1945) and Meerabai (1947).[1] She worked with Shammi Kapoor in romantic classic Mirza Sahiban (1957).

Director Vijay Bhatt gave her the stage name Shyama, by which she is credited in her movies. She had starring roles in Guru Dutt's classic Aar Paar, and later in Barsaat Ki Raat, which was perhaps her best performance. She was a major star in the 1950s and 1960s and acted in more than 150 movies, many in starring roles. During the period 1952-60, she appeared in as many as 80 films, mostly in leading roles. In 1963, she had as many as 18 releases and in 1964 she had 17 releases.

Shyama in Chhoo Mantar (1956)

Her best known roles were in Aar Paar (1954), Barsaat Ki Raat (1960) and Tarana. She was also noticed for her versatility through her performances in MilanBhai-Bhai (1956), Mirza Sahiban (1957), Bhabhi (1957) and Sharada (1957). For her performance in Sharada, she was awarded the Filmfare Award for Best Supporting Actress.

She was the actress in late 50s who has been most responsive to the rhythm and lyrics of the music directors and poets. Songs picturised on her such as "Ae Dil Mujhe Bata De", "O Chand Jahan Wo Jaye", "Ae Lo Main Hari Piya", "Dekho, Wo Chand Chhup Ke Karata Hai Kya Ishare", "Chhupa Kar Meri Aankhon Ko", Sun Sun Sun Sun Zalima and "Ja Re Ka Re Badara" are examples of her sensitive acting. She did a double role in Do Bahen (1959), portraying twins who were completely different in character.

She quoted in an interview: "I never needed to be taught [about acting]... I was confident and didn't need to think too much." She believed stars are born and not made.[2]

Johnny Walker and Shyama had worked in films such as Choo MantarAar PaarMusafir KhannaKhota Paisa and Khel Khilari Ka.[3]

In later years, her memorable roles came in films of Rajesh Khanna such as Masterji (1985) and Ajanabee (1974) and others such as Sawan Bhadon (1970) and Dil Diya Dard Liya (1966).

Personal life[edit]

She was married to cinematographer Fali Mistry in 1953. Her husband was a Parsi (Zoroastrian) from Gujarat, India. They kept the marriage secret for as many as 10 years because of the fear that Shyama's career would suffer if her marriage became known; in those days, it was thought that the fan following of female stars became less as soon as they married. The marriage was revealed to the public shortly before the birth of their first child, their elder son. The couple had three children, two sons, Faroukh and Rohinton, and a daughter Shirrin. Fali Mistry died in 1979, thereafter she continued to stay in Mumbai.[4]

Shyama's close friends were actress Ameeta and Johnny Walker. Nasir Kazi, Johnny Walker's son, expressed his grief on hearing the news of her death. In an interview with Mid-Day, he said, "It's really disheartening to know about the demise of Shyama aunty. She had done several films with my father and in a lot of them she was opposite him also. In fact, in the film that was made on his name "Johnny Walker", she was the heroine with him.[5]

Death[edit]

Shyama died on 14 November 2017 due to a lung infection at the age of 82.[6] She is buried at Bada KabrastanMarine Lines.[ci 



Happy birthday, Shyama!

Today is the 78th birthday of one of my favourite actresses, the gorgeous Shyama. Born in Lahore on June 7, 1935, Shyama debuted at the tender age of 9, when she appeared onscreen as one of the chorus in the Zeenat (1945) qawwali , Aahein na bhareen shiqve na kiye. In a career that spanned 40 years and close to 150 films, Shyama played everything—from the shrew to the vamp, the tomboy to the domestic goddess. And she invariably shone, quite literally. Shyama’s sparkling eyes and bright, 1000-watt smile could light up the screen like few other actresses were capable of doing.

Shyama

So, to celebrate Shyama’s birthday, a list of some of my favourite Shyama songs. Shyama has had some lovely songs picturised on her, both solos as well as duets—and songs that feature a panoply of singers (Na toh kaarvaan ki talaash hai is a stellar example). If I went about listing each Shyama song I love, my list would run into dozens. I have therefore, restricted myself: these songs are all solos, in which Shyama lip-syncs to the song, and they’re all from pre-1970 films that I’ve seen. Furthermore, no two songs are from the same film.

Here goes, in no particular order:

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1. Saiyyaan pyaara hai apna milan (Do Behnen, 1959): I did mention that this list isn’t in any particular order, but if the songs here had been in order of preference, this beautifully romantic one would’ve been pretty close to the top—if not the first song on my list. It’s a suhaag raat song, sung by a lovely bride to her new husband. Everything—from the unmistakable affection, now shy, now teasing, in Shyama’s eyes (and for Rajendra Kumar, too! What splendid acting!) to the words—“Baat hi baat mein, raat hi raat mein, ban gayi main tumhaari dulhan” (“In the course of a conversation, in the passage of the night, I have become your bride”), to the very soothing music—is perfect.

Saiyyaan pyaara hai apna milan, from Do Behnen
2. Kaare-kaare baadra jaa re jaa re (Bhabhi, 1957): Shyama is the sole emphasis of this song as she dances through a seemingly empty house, scolding the darkening clouds and shooing them away. They have woken her from sweet dreams (of her love, no doubt), she says—and tries to cajole the pawan, the breeze, into taking her side and blowing the clouds away. A very melodious song, and one which allows Shyama to hold centrestage.

Kaare-kaare baadraa, from Bhabhi
3. Ae dil mujhe bata de (Bhai-Bhai, 1956): I tend to confuse this song with the one before it when it comes to picturisation, because Ae dil mujhe bata de is also all about Shyama, singing to herself in a large and seemingly empty house. (Not really, though; unknown to her, the man she loves—and whom she has been eagerly awaiting—has arrived even as she’s singing, and is walking towards her, entranced by her song).

This is a song that makes me think, as I’m watching it, that while Shyama may not have been one of the top dancers of the league, what she may lack in talent, she makes up for in enthusiasm. To see her trip about the room, leaping and frolicking, going from piano to divan to bed to parapet, her smile never dimming and her eyes always sparkling, makes you forget that she may not be as accomplished as some of her contemporaries.

Ae dil mujhe bata de, from Bhai-Bhai
4. Mujhe mil gaya bahaana teri deed ka (Barsaat ki Raat, 1960): Barsaat ki Raat was full to the brim with some of the best songs ever—definitely the best qawwalis in any one film. All of them, too, had Shyama in them, and if I’d decided to include songs other than solos, I’d have been torn between Na toh kaarvaan ki talaash haiNigaah-e-naaz ke, and Pehchaanta hoon khoob (not forgetting Garjat barsat saawan aayo re, which—while not a qawwali—is a brilliant song).

But, this list is about solos, and here is a Shyama solo from Barsaat ki Raat.  Here she dances and skips about while her ‘sister’ (played by Ratna) accompanies her on a dholak. The song embodies all the joy of an upcoming Eid, the celebrations of which will give our singer a legitimate excuse to meet and talk to the man she loves. Shyama at her chirpy, starry-eyed, best.

Mujhe mil gaya bahaana, from Barsaat ki Raat
(Incidentally, while I am a die-hard Madhubala fan, this is one film where I feel she was upstaged. Shyama is sublime in Barsaat ki Raat: lovely, sensitive, wise, sweet. Perfect).

5. Le jaa meri duaaein tadpaake jaanewaale (Lala Rookh, 1958): In a complete about-turn from the romantic, starry-eyed songs that I’ve listed so far, this one, which is addressed to a lover—but a seemingly faithless lover, who has broken the heart of the woman who loves him. Lala Rookh’s best-known songs were either Talat’s or duets (or, in one case, Mohammad Rafi’s), but this sad yet beautiful song is Asha’s—and Shyama’s. Her eyes are so expressive, that even without shedding tears, Shyama manages to convey all the pain and betrayal she feels.

Le jaa meri duaaein, from Lala Rookh
6. Barkhaa ki raaton mein (Shrimatiji, 1952): The lyrics of this song bear a passing resemblance to the previous one: our heroine is bemoaning the loss of her love, the roothna of the man she had hoped was going to be hers for ever. That, though, is where the resemblance stops. Shyama in Shrimatiji was no shrinking violet; she was the ultimate kick-ass heroine. In this song, too, even though she talks about “aankhon se aansoowon ka dariya chalta-chalta hai” (“rivers of tears flow from my eyes”), you can see, now and then, that she is fairly certain of being able to get back the man in question; there’s steel beneath the silk.

Barkha ki raaton mein, from Shrimatiji
7. Dil se main mujhse dil (Bus Conductor, 1959): At first glance, this song looks very much like another Ae dil mujhe bata de or Kaare-kaare baadraa: Shyama dancing and singing all by herself in an otherwise empty house. But, even though it begins with the lady sitting at a dressing table (and looking very sweet in a fluffy towel robe), it then moves outside—to a swing, to the beach where she sits under an umbrella or splashes along the shore, and finally to a boat. A lilting and frothy little love song, and there’s the bonus of seeing Shyama not just in sari or salwar-kurta (not to mention that robe!), but also in trousers—she looks wonderful.

Dil se main mujhse dil, from Bus Conductor
8. Yeh lo main haari piya (Aar-Paar, 1954): From Aar-Paar, my favourite song that features Shyama unfortunately doesn’t qualify for this list—because while it has her at her athletic best (dressed in overalls, and climbing all over a car), it is also a duet. But this song comes a close second, and it is a Shyama solo, so here it is. This one’s featured in other lists of mine, and with good reason too: it’s a good example of not just great music and direction, but also excellent acting and lyrics.

Our heroine here is setting out to woo back her huffy sweetheart, and she uses everything she has in a fairly formidable arsenal: she begins with apologies and pleading, then goes on to emotional blackmail—telling him how her poor little heart will break if he goes on like this—and ends up with a threat to get angry and fling a few abuses at him. Along the way, she also swings into sultry seductress mode for a little while.

It’s easy to understand why Guru Dutt’s character, by the end of the song, is back in a good mood.

Yeh lo main haari piya, from Aar-Paar
9. Yeh zaalim nigaahon ki ghaat (Khota Paisa, 1958): Besides her beauty, her vivacity and her acting ability, one thing I really like about Shyama is that she doesn’t seem to have had any qualms about which roles she’d do and which she wouldn’t. At a time when actresses swiftly got typecast—good girl (read wife material), vamp, suffering mother, sister, etc—Shyama did it all. In Aar-Paar, Shrimatiji, Mai Baap, etc, she was a convincing heroine; in Bhabhi, Chhoti Bahen, and Dil-e-Naadaan, she was the shrew; in Barsaat ki Raat, the woman who loved the hero but never spoke of her love—and in Bhai-Bhai, the other woman.

And here, in a madcap film opposite Johnny Walker, Shyama shows her flair for comedy too. She doesn’t get the nuttiest lines, but she’s quite clownish for a leading lady—and she gets to dance this absolutely delightful club song, where she puts on a seductive act for the benefit of an approving NA Ansari.

Yeh zaalim nigaahon ki ghaat, from Khota Paisa
10. Dil toh razamand hai (Mai Baap, 1957): To end, a song that is very quintessentially Shyama: bubbly and cheerful and just so full of joy that it makes me want to get up and dance. Although there were two versions of Dil toh razamand hai, I prefer this one, which appears only about five minutes into the film. It’s a sweet panghat song, with Shyama’s character telling her friends—all of them ostensibly here to fill their matkas, but combining it with some dancing—about her views regarding her husband to be. Shyama, even with just a matka for a prop, steals the show.

Dil toh razamand hai, from Mai-Baap
Do you have any favourite Shyama songs? Please share!

Shyama
(By the way, there’s a nice little interview with Shyama, here).


'Shyama was an entertaining friend during the shooting and we continued our friendship even after the film was over.

"During those days, we formed working relationships that lasted beyond the workplace.'

Waheeda Rehman pays rich tribute to her late co-star



Yesteryear actress Shyama, who worked in a slew of musicals in the 1950s and 1960s, like Guru Dutt's Aar Paar, Barsaat Ki Ek Raat and Sharda (for which she won a Filmfare award) passed away on Tuesday.

Waheeda Rehman speaks to Subhash K Jha about her late friend and co-star

"After Nanda and Sadhana, I have lost another co-star and friend. Shyama was very good looking and a good human being. She was warm and affectionate," Waheeda recalls.

Shyama and Waheeda have worked in only one film together.

"It was the ill-fated Dil Diya Dard Liya in 1966, where she played my friend. Though the film didn't do well, it is remembered for its powerful theme," Waheeda says.

Shyama was an entertaining friend during the shooting and we continued our friendship even after the film was over.

"During those days, we formed working relationships that lasted beyond the workplace. So even after Dil Diya Dard Liya, Shyama and I would meet often," she adds.


ur friendship became easier to maintain for two reasons," she shares.

"One, we lived on the same road (Napean Sea Road in south Mumbai), in buildings opposite each another. She lived in a building called Gulmarg and I lived in a building called Poonam. We'd run into one another quite often.

"Secondly, Shyama was married to legendary cinematographer Fali Mistry. He shot some of my most well-known works including the film that I'm closely associated with, Guide.

"Later, Falisaab also shot me in Neel Kamal and Prem Pujari.

"So there was a bond with Shyama that went beyond the one film that we did together," she adds.

"Of late, she had not been keeping well and, now, God has chosen to take her away. May her soul rest in peace."



Shyama’s Interview

It’s not a task getting an interview with veteran Shyama. She answers the landline herself, her feeble voice betraying excitement. I am also keen to meet the actor who romanced Guru Dutt in the spiffy Sun sun sun zalima in Aar Paar. When I reach her flat at the plush Napean Sea Road, she’s all ready and waiting in a pink salwar kameez, her short hair neatly combed. Daughter Shireen has dropped in to check on her 74-year-old mother, who insists on staying alone. Shireen gives a barrage of instructions to the maids, gives her mother a lingering hug and leaves us to chat on a drizzling afternoon. “I fractured both my legs sometime back. I stay at home. Main kahin nahin jaati hoon (I do not go out at all),” says the erstwhile actor pointing to the walker waiting in attendance. 

Apart from dhagas (holy threads) around her wrist there are emerald green beads. “My hairdresser gave them to me,” she says. She hands me a black diary. The pages, yellow with the years, hold a record of her films. Black and white moments of her trysts with legends Guru Dutt, Nargis, Meena Kumari and Raj Kapoor stand framed on her drawing room shelves. Memories, unlike people, do not have a shelf life. She relives those years in bits and pieces, some easily and some with effort…

Shyama, born Khurshid Akhtar, began her jaunt in Hindi cinema as a nine-year-old. She became one of the chorus singers in the qawwali “Aahen na bhari” in the Noorjehan starrer Zeenat (1945).

“I had gone with my friends to watch Noorjehan shoot for a film in Dadar. The director Shaukat Hussain (Noorjehan’s husband) asked us, `Does anyone of you want to work?’

I put my hand up and said, ‘Main karoongi (I will)’. She continues, “My parents were not well off. Yet, Abba didn’t want me to work in films. I said, ‘What’s the harm?'”


I was always interested in acting. During the lunch break in school, I’d stand on the table and dance. Later, I even learnt singing and dance. I watched every film,” recalls the actress who was one of the busiest stars of her times, playing lead, second lead and vamp roles in around 147 films.

“I was lucky to get good roles. I even got the Filmfare Award for Best Supporting Actress for Sharda. I enjoyed doing family dramas like Do Behnein, Choti Behen, Bhai Bhai and Do Bhai. In Do Behnein I played the good girl and the bad girl. Rajendra Kumar was a newcomer then. So initially, the film didn’t do well. But when it was re- released, it became a hit,” says the actor who was also appreciated for her roles in Barsaat Ki Raat, Tarana and Aar Paar in the ’50s. “I had a photogenic face. Whatever direction the light fell from, I photographed well. I maintained my figure. I was particular about my diet and for days I’d just be sipping glucose water to remain slim. I used to wear all kinds of clothes — ghararas, salwars, saris and pants,” smiles the actor who was known for her puckish prettiness.


While doing Sazaa (1951), the 16-year-old Shyama fell in love with director and ace cinematographer Fali Mistry. “We were fond of each other. But I was very shy. I couldn’t express myself,” she confides. “Initially, he asked me not to work after marriage but I said that wasn’t possible. I had worked very hard to reach where I was.” They got married in 1953 and had three children, two boys Farook and Rohin and a daughter Shireen.

“I was very content in my married life. Even after my first child, I didn’t give up acting. Fali had confidence in me. When it would get late I’d say, ‘Fali hum late hogaye hain. Magar khana hum saath khayenge (I’m late. But we will have dinner together)’. We had a great understanding,” she says of the Muslim-Parsi marriage.

Though she chose Fali as her husband, she did have her share of suitors amongst her co-actors. “I got many proposals from my peers. I don’t want to take their names. Some of them are no more while the others have their families. Sometimes we call each other up and ask kya haal hai?” she laughs.


She continued acting, doing character roles, even after Fali passed away prematurely in 1979. The last film she did was the Sanjay Dutt starrer Hathyar. The highlightof her day today is just aaram (rest) she says. “I rest; I sleep and see my old films. I have sent the DVDs to my sons too,” smiles the mother who says she has `secured’ her children’s future. Her close friends are Waheeda Rehman, Nanda and Shashikala but she greatly misses Nirupa Roy and Nadira. “I was very close to Nirupa. She died suddenly. It was a great shock,” she says softly. About friendships in the industry then and now she says, “We used to hide each other’s secrets, today they let them out.”

She seems a wee tired as it’s time for her afternoon siesta. The memory jog has also been an exertion of sorts. I gently draw the interview to a close. Any regrets I ask her. “I miss my family” she says referring to her sons who have settled abroad. “Also, my parents had nine children. Today I’m the only survivor.” She continues, “Log aaye our chale gaye, yaadein chhod gaye. Meri dushmani kisise nahin, dosti hai sabse (People came and went, leaving behind memories. I have enmity with none, friendships with all).

Any unfulfilled wishes? “Last year I was honored with the Dadasaheb Phalke Award. Let’s see if I get some more!” Down yes, but definitely not out. That’s Shyama for you! – [Interviewed by Farhana Farook in 2010]









The beautiful Indian film industry actress of yesteryears, Shyama now lives a reclusive life in Mumbai, but in her heyday, she was a much sought after artiste. She played the lead role in many films, notably Aar Paar (1954), but her forte was as a supportive actress in which she excelled in many great films. 

Among them I include Shabnam (1949), Patanga (1949), Tarana (1951), Sazaa (1951), Chhoo Mantar (1956), Chhoti Bahen (1959), Barsaat ki Raat (1960), Bahu Rani (1963), Dil diya Dard liya (1966) and many more. In Sharada (1957), she won the Filmfare Best Supporting Actress Award. Personally for me, her role as Shipalee, who loves the rebel, Raj (Balraj Sahni) in Zia Sarhadi’s Marxist classic, Hum Log (1951), is unforgettable, especially the picturisation on her of the song Chhun, chhun, chhun baje payal mori, which Roshan had composed so sweetly.

Shyama was born as Khurshid Akhtar in Baghbanpura, Lahore on June 7, 1935. She hails from Lahore’s most populous biradari of Arains, who before the partition of India were the main Muslim landowning biradari in Lahore district besides the Sikh Jatts who were almost entirely in the rural tehsils of Lahore district. 


The pioneer of the Lahore film industry and later, a legendary filmmaker in Bombay, A R Kardar was also a Lahore Arain belonging to the Zaildar family of Bhaati Gate. Another Arain at Bombay film industry was the gorgeous Begum Para. Her father, Mian Ehsan-ul-Haq of Jullundur, was a judge who joined the princely state of Bikaner, now northern Rajasthan, where he became chief justice of its highest court.

For several reasons, the Arains were radicalised towards fundamentalist Islam and that created extremely conservative values among them. I know this because I myself was born in that group. I shall probe this and the overall trend of other Punjabi Muslim castes and biradaris towards ‘Arabisation’ in a forthcoming series.

Anyhow, among old-timers of Lahore, Shyama remained a legend. For a legend to evolve, it needs people who for some emotional and psychological reasons need to associate themselves with an individual. Each time I am in Lahore, I find some addition to the legend of Shyama. Yet, all this happens in gossip and whispers and not in media where there is a hush-up, even among those who write in films about Shyama.



This is because her fans, especially those from her biradari, cannot disown her because she attained fame and ruled hearts once upon a time. That in itself does not sit well with Islamism, but she violated some more taboos. 


She married the famous Bombay cinematographer, Fali Mistry, a Parsee. Her two sons have been raised as Parsees. One lives in New York and the other in London.

I talked to her in her Mumbai home on June 2, 2012 from Stockholm. The same day I had spoken to Kamini Kaushal who also lives in Mumbai. Shyama’s father Chaudhry Mehr Din was a fruit merchant who set up business in Bombay. Shyama’s family shifted to Bombay when she was only two. The megastar Dilip Kumar’s father was also a fruit merchant in Bombay, so those who are into novelty hunting can probe the connection between fruit and films. I would only stick to the facts.



Shyama was only a child when she left Lahore so she has no personal association or memories of Lahore. By the way, the same is true of the late Suraiya who died in Mumbai some years ago. In 2001, I was in Mumbai and knocked on her door, pleading for an interview but Suraiya refused it. On that occasion, Shyama was not in town.

And now, some gossip about Shyama’s Lahore connection. One is that she was at college in Lahore and then went to Bombay. Another, that she was engaged to Chaudhry Abdullah, popularly known as Chaudhry Thhailla of Mozang, Lahore. Another is that she visited Lahore in 1960 and was given a rousing reception.

According to Shyama, she visited Lahore only in the 1990s and stayed with Madam Noorjahan, whom she met in Bombay at the age of 10 when she visited the sets of Zeenat (1945). She was recruited to take part in the famous qawwali Aahein naa bhareen shikwa naa kiya by Noorjahan’s first husband, Syed Shaukat Hussain Rizvi. She had come to the sets to watch the shooting with a bunch of schoolgirls and was offered the job. That gradually paved the way for more roles.

Shyama told me she had an old sister and brother who were settled in Lahore, but when she came in the 1990s, they were not alive anymore. Therefore she did not meet any relatives in Lahore. I know, however, that her cousin, Naseer Maliki, who worked at the Lahore Television Station, used to talk about her. He was a good friend of my brother-in-law.

On March 26, 2004, I met Ripudamman Singh in his shop at Rambagh Bazaar, Amritsar. He gave me an eyewitness account of what happened in that town in the 1947 riots (The Punjab Bloodied, Partitioned and Cleansed; Oxford University Press, Karachi, 2012). He told me that in the early 1960s, he met a Muslim woman and her daughter who wanted to see their old home in Amritsar They had come from Lahore and were going to take the train to Bombay next day. He brought them home. She told him that she was a relative of Shyama and was going there to meet her. Hence, until then at least, Shyama did have contact with her Lahore relatives. All this had faded from her memory when I talked to her.





Selected filmography[edit]

  • Insaan (1982)
  • Payal Ki Jhankar (1980)
  • Khel Khilari Ka (1977) - Mrs. Khairatilal
  • Khel Khel Mein (1975)
  • Sewak (1975)
  • Ajanabee (1974)
  • Naya Din Nai Raat (1974) - Brothel Madame
  • Honeymoon (1973) - Laxmi Choudhary
  • Prabhat (1973) - Champabai
  • Suraj Aur Chanda (1973)
  • Gomti Ke Kinare (1972)
  • Shaadi Ke Baad (1972) - Basanti's mother
  • Zindagi Zindagi (1972) - Meeta's chachi (aunt)
  • Kangan (1971)
  • Sawan Bhadon (1970)
  • Mastana (1970) - Mrs. Dhanraj
  • Beti (1969) - Kamla Verma
  • Aag (1967)
  • Milan (1967)
  • Lal Bangla (1966) - Bela
  • Dil Diya Dard Liya (1966) - Mala
  • Janwar (1965) - Seema
  • Ji Chahta Hai (1964)
  • Bahurani (1963) - Nautch girl
  • Ghar Basake Dekho (1963)
  • Zabak (1961)
  • Barsaat Ki Raat (1960) - Shama
  • Apna Ghar (1960)
  • Duniya Jhukti Hai (1960)
  • Chhoti Bahen (1959) - Shobha
  • Chandan (1958)
  • Bus Conductor (1959) Asha Devi
  • Lala Rukh (1958)
  • Panchayat (1958)
  • Taqdeer (1958)
  • Bandi (1957) - Shankar's Wife
  • Bhabhi (1957) - Tara
  • Hill Station (1957)
  • Johnny Walker (1957)
  • Mai Baap (1957)
  • Mirza Sahiban (1957) - Sahiban
  • Sharada (1957) - Chanchal ..... WonFilmfare Best Supporting Actress Award
  • Suvarna Sundari (1957)
  • Bhai-Bhai (1956)
  • Chhoo Mantar (1956) - Sawli
  • Makkhee Choos (1956)
  • Bhagwat Mahima (1955)
  • Khandaan (1955)
  • Musafirkhana (1955)
  • Aar Paar (1954) - Nikki
  • Darwaza (1954)
  • Dhoop Chhaon (1954)
  • Laadla (1954)
  • Majboori (1954)
  • Pensioner (1954)
  • Pilpili Saheb (1954) punjabi movie
  • Savdhan (1954)
  • Shart (1954)
  • Kaude Shah (1953) punjabi movie
  • Lara Lappa (1953) Punjabi Movie
  • Char Chand (1953)
  • Dil-E-Nadan (1953)
  • Shyama (1953)
  • Bahadur (1953)
  • Suhag Sindoor (1953)
  • Thokar (1953)
  • Aasmaan (1952)
  • Shrimati Ji (1952)
  • Sazaa (1951) - Kamini
  • Tarana (1951) - Sheela
  • Dolti Naiya (1950)
  • Nili (1950)
  • Nishana (1950)
  • Naach (1949)
  • Patanga (1949)
  • Roop Lekha (1949)
  • Shabnam (1949)
  • Zeenat (1945)


There was magic whenever Geeta Dutt lent her voice for Shyama. This vibrant singer and exuberant actress complemented each other perfectly through several films like Shrimatiji.

She was the impish girl in dungarees in Aar Paar (1954) and the qawwali singer in Barsaat ki Raat (1960). She had no problems playing the parallel heroine and more than held up her end with actresses like Meena Kumari and Madhubala. With her winning smile, Shyama was one of the best known faces of the 1950s and with her passing on Tuesday at the age of 82, another link with the golden era of Hindi cinema has ended.

Born Khurshid Akhtar in Lahore in 1935, Shyama began her film journey when she faced the camera as a pre-teen as part of the qawwali back up players in the Noor Jehan starrer Zeenat (1945). She then went on to play younger sister/sister-in-law roles in various films before getting more important roles by 1949-50 and breaking through in the early ’50s.

Though she never really got her due, at her peak, Shyama was perhaps the busiest actress of the decade playing different roles ranging from the heroine in mostly B films to second leads and even negative characters in the A-list ones, working with every actor or actress worth their salt.

With her gorgeous looks and talent, she was in great demand. It was Aar Paar, where she played the garage owner’s daughter who falls in love with the taxi driver Guru Dutt, that made her a bankable star.

Guru Dutt and Shyama in Aar Paar.

Some of her well known films of the time are Zia Sarhady’s Hum Log (1951), Bimal Roy’s Maa (1952), Guru Dutt’s Aar Paar, M.V. Raman’s Bhai Bhai (1956), L.V. Prasad’s Sharada (1957) – for which she won the Filmfare Award for Best Supporting Actress – Bhabhi (1957), Chhoti Bahen (1959) also directed by Prasad, Do Behnen (1959) playing the double role of the good and bad sister, P.L. Santoshi’s Barsaat Ki Raat (1960), Zabak (1961) and Bahurani (1963). She teamed up with Johnny Walker in many comedy films centred around the actor.

In the mid 1960s, she shifted to doing character roles, ending her acting career of well over 200 films with J.P. Dutta’s Hathyar (1989).

I was lucky to meet Shyama thrice, nine years ago, as part of researching a project on Guru Dutt. Straight off, Shyama recalled her admiration for Noor Jehan and how happy she was being part of the qawwali in Zeenat, starring the singing star. She recalled the highlight of her trip to Pakistan in the 1960s where she met the ‘Mallika-e-Tarannum’ (as Noor Jehan was called), showing off the photograph of her and the melody queen together at a function.

She was all praise for Guru Dutt’s handling of actors in Aar Paar and among other things, she spoke about her deep friendship with fellow actress Nirupa Roy. But she also admitted that after the death of her husband, the well known cinematographer-director Fali Mistry, whom she married in 1953, and with whom she has three children – one of whom, Faroukh, is also a cinematographer – she did feel lonely at times with all of them leading their own lives. She spoke about the fun she had accompanying Mistry, who passed away in 1979, to Nepal when he was filming Hare Rama Hare Krishna (1971) for Dev Anand. And talking of Dev Saab, she naughtily added that when she got a copy of his autobiography, she first went to the pages to read what he had written about his love story with Suraiya and then immediately thereafter to what he had to say about Zeenat Aman. That sense of humour that reflected in her face was very visible till her final years.

Shyama has been filmed in some wonderful songs. An early song where Shyama first made an impact is the second version of the main love duet, ‘Tu Mera Chand Main Teri Chandni’, from A.R. Kardar’s Dillagi (1949) starring Suraiya and Shyam. The original version was filmed on the stars, but this version on Shyama voiced by Geeta Dutt is less known.

Dillagi – ‘Tu Mera Chand’

By the early 1950s, in both Sazaa (1951) and Tarana (1951), Shyama found herself in strong supporting roles but as the one who loses heroes Dev Anand and Dilip Kumar to Nimmi and Madhubala respectively. Sazaa was directed by Shyama’s future husband, Fali Mistry, while Tarana, directed by Ram Darayani, is an out and out Madhubala show. Nevertheless, Shyama makes an understated but strong impact as the third point of the triangle as the woman who loves Dilip Kumar selflessly and is willing to marry him even though he tells he can never love her. The film, with music by Anil Biswas, has a lovely all female duet sung by Lata Mangeshkar and Sandhya Mukherjee (on Shyama) as both women declare their love for Dilip Kumar.

Tarana – ‘Bol Papihe Bol Re’

Talk of Shyama, and the first image of her that would probably come to mind to most old-timers, is her being dressed in dungarees and plaits, being wooed by Guru Dutt in the crime-thriller Aar Paar. In the film, Shyama plays Nikki, a Punjabi garage owner’s daughter romanced by ex-convict and taxi driver Kalu, enacted by Dutt. Her character is said to based on a girl that Guru Dutt had loved in his Calcutta days. Shyama recalled that she was extremely busy when the offer came from Guru Dutt but relented and made time or the film when Geeta Dutt met her personally and requested her to take on the role. With his flair for song-picturisations and inherent talent as a choreographer picked up from Uday Shankar’s dance school in Almora, ‘Sun Sun Sun Zalima’ is beautifully filmed by Guru Dutt inside an actual garage as the two lovers play out their romance. It is one of the most charming performances of Shyama’s career.

Aar Paar – ‘Sun Sun Sun Sun Zalima’

There was magic whenever Geeta Dutt lent her voice for Shyama. This vibrant singer and exuberant actress complemented each other perfectly through several films be it Shrimatiji, Aar Paar, Musafir Khana (1955) or Chhoo Mantar (1956). But if one song truly stood out in their collaboration, it has to be the beautiful ditty from Bhai Bhai composed by Madan Mohan, Ae Dil Mujhe Bata De. Even though Shyama played a negative character, the wife of conman Om Prakash who is after the already married Ashok Kumar for his money, few could blame Kumar from being led astray when Shyama turned on the charm fully with this song.

Bhai Bhai – ‘Ae Dil Mujhe Bata De’

Shyama also made a popular team with filmmaker M. Sadiq, comedian Johnny Walker and composer O.P. Nayyar in several films – Musafir KhanaChhoo MantarMai Baap (1957), Duniya Rang Rangeeli (1957) and Johnny Walker (1957). In the last, Walker played an alcoholic who pretends to abstain from alcohol making Shyama fall in love with him. The film had two lovely duets by Asha Bhosle and Geeta Dutt, filmed on Sheila Vaz and Shyama including the fabulous Thandi Thandi Hawa. Asha Bhosle, by now becoming Nayyar’s main singer, lends her voice for heroine Shyama, while Geeta Dutt sings for Vaz.

Johnny Walker – ‘Thandi Thandi Hawa’

One of the big successes of Shyama’s career was Barsaat Ki Raat, directed by P.L. Santoshi. From being just another face in the qawwali in Zeenat, Shyama gives a great peformance as a full fledged qawwali artiste in this love triangle where she ultimately loses the hero, Bharat Bhushan, to the leading lady of the film, Madhubala. Barsaat Ki Raat is deservedly known for some of the best qawwalis ever composed on the Indian screen by music director Roshan.

Barsaat Ki Raat – ‘Nigahe Naaz Ke’

Besides her Hindi films, Shyama also played the lead in some Punjabi films including two of the early hits of Punjabi cinema in post-Independent India, Posti (1951) and Koday Shah (1953). Posti, directed by K.D. Mehra, saw Amarnath, Manorama, Randhir and Majnu co-starring with Shyama, while Koday Shah, helmed by S.P. Bakshisaw Daljit being introduced opposite her in the film. Both films had extremely popular soundtracks composed by Sardul Kwatra, who also composed music for the Shammi Kapoor-Shyama starrer Mirza Sahiban (1957) where Shyama reprised her idol, Noor Jehan’s role of the tragic Sahiban. Interestingly, in a role reversal, Noor Jehan, herself, would play Shyama’s role in the Pakistani remake of Chhoo Mantar.

Koday Shah – ‘Chad De Tu Mera Dupatta’  

Karan Bali is a filmmaker based in Mumbai who is also the co-founder of Upperstall.com, a website on cinema of the sub-continent.

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