Manav Kaul Lives for Art

How did a boy from Baramulla, Kashmir, become the thinking woman’s pin-up after essaying the role of a pleasure artist in Netflix’s Tribhuvan Mishra CA Topper? Well, the boy Manav Kaul saw Habib Tanvir’s adaptation of Mudrarakshas and realised this was what he wanted to do. He moved to Hoshangabad, then Bhopal, where he did theatre with Alok Chatterjee. He then moved to Mumbai in 1998 where Satyadev Dubey took a liking to him out of 180 potential actors in a workshop. That was the beginning of a new life, dedicated to the pursuit of the arts. It has been the same way since, acting, writing and directing theatre, with some powerful cinematic roles along the way. He’s stayed away from the temptations of Bollywood by not getting typecast. “After I played the rightwing politician in Kai Po Che! (2013), I got so many offers to do the same. But I had to sit at home for a year-and-a-half. After Wazir (2016), everyone thought I should play only a villain. I always love to perform possibilities,” he says. “When I left acting for over a decade, I started writing, living in chawls. I don’t need that much money. I only wanted my laughter to be open. I travelled a lot, especially in the mountains. No one took money from me. Then you understand acting better, life better.

Tribhuvan Mishra’s tenderness is from the life I have lived.” His art, his writing, his work, everything is a reflection of who he is. The last few years have seen a lot of experimentation, whether it is the loveable husband of Tumhari Sulu (2017); the vain film star of The Fame Game (2022); or the speech-challenged lover of Ajeeb Daastaans (2021). Tribhuvan Mishra is a middle-class, honest accountant in Noida, who has to resort to a rather unusual service-sector job. Did Kaul have any inhibitions doing the part? “I am an actor,” he says. “Even if you make me dance naked, I will do it. My body is nothing for me.” Kaul has studiously stayed away from the red-carpet life. He would rather be writing, or reading, or travelling. Or making a show like Tribhuvan Mishra where, he says, “Everything is so tender, and women are leading the show.” He laughs, adding, “I am who I am, the people I have met, the books I have read. Everything I do is me.” Now is the time for him to climb more mountains, he says, literally and metaphorically, while his knees are working, his back is in shape.

Mommy Deepika

As if it was not enough to be the star of four blockbusters, Jawan, Pathaan, Fighter and Kalki 2898 AD, Deepika Padukone continues to work through motherhood. This is a far cry from the time when pregnant stars were meant to be invisible. Deepika’s next appearance is as Lady Singham Shakti Shetty, in Singham Again, the Singham franchise movie releasing later this year. This was a part she shot for well into her pregnancy. At 38, Deepika has managed to keep the allure of stardom alive, suggesting a career that Hollywood divas like Nicole Kidman and Cate Blanchett have, doing lead roles well into their 50s. I remember a younger Deepika telling me how she believes that women can have both a career and a rich family life simultaneously, rather than one at a time. Other actors in the film industry have shown it too, a plus for diversity and inclusion.

Rewind

Remember the time when foreign exchange was scarce and buying foreign goods cost an arm and a leg? Well, when you watch Sangam, Raj Kapoor’s first full colour film in 1964, you understand the consequences. In a scene where newlyweds Raj Kapoor and Vyjayanthimala are jauntily walking down Parisian streets, the latter spots a handbag she must have. Kapoor explains to her that it costs 786 francs, which in Indian rupees is far too much. “We are tourists,” Kapoor tells her. “We can’t behave like royals. We’ll have to give up our dinner.” To which Vyjayanthimala remarks acidly, “We’re already not eating lunch. What will we live on? Air?” Cut to Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara in 2011 where the soon-to-be married Kabir, played by Abhay Deol, asks his friend to bring the ‘It bag ’ of the summer for his lady love. It soon finds pride of place in the car they are travelling in. Because it costs 12,000 euros, it “travels only first class”, and is forever after referred to as Bagwati, with a hat and dark glasses to protect ‘her’ from the sun. The journey from Sangam to ZNMD is one of liberalisation, of consumerism, and of materialism.

About The Author

Kaveree Bamzai

Kaveree Bamzai is an author and a contributing writer with Open

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