‘Be a Warrior from Day One’

When Sanjay Leela Bhansali called Manisha Koirala to cast her as Mallikajaan, she was gardening at her home in Kathmandu, Nepal. She had been cancer-free for three years, and was delighted to be chosen. The result? At 53, a role in Netflix’s Heeramandi, as the queen of a declining kotha in Lahore on fire, that she has poured years of trauma and pain into.

Koirala hasn’t always been so lucky. In a 33-year career in Indian cinema, she has worked with some fine directors, such as Mani Ratnam, Vidhu Vinod Chopra, Ram Gopal Varma, Mansoor Khan, and Bhansali. She has also missed out on great opportu­nities, either because of periods of drinking heavily or because of heartbreak—a prime example being Shyam Benegal’s Zubeidaa (2001), a role that went to one-time rival Karisma Kapoor. Diagnosed with stage-three ovarian cancer in 2012, she recovered from it, with the help of a supportive family. She has also seen her share of controversies, ei­ther brought on by a court case against an unscrupulous director, Shashilal K Nair, who used a body double for sex scenes in Ek Choti Si Love Story (2002) without her permission, or by her own statements in the media criticising fellow actors for their lack of honesty.

In Heeramandi, as Mallikajaan, Koirala goes completely dark, in a sustained perfor­mance that is part Pakeezah and part Umrao Jaan. The series may have been criticised for lack of authenticity, but it has been hailed unequivocally for its performances. For Koirala, it was an opportunity of a lifetime. She knew she had to give it 100 per cent. She did, whether it was sitting in a water fountain for 12 hours without a break or dropping her voice an octave or taking tuition for Urdu diction for the role of Mallikajaan.

“Sanjay and I have changed a lot,” she says about Bhansali who first shot her songs in Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s 1942: A Love Story (1994) and then directed her in Khamoshi: The Musical (1996). “While I have had a lot of breaks in my career, he has gone from strength to strength. He is the best we have in the world for female-centric subjects. His growth is phenomenal. After my health crisis, I did a few small roles but Heeramandi has been the most substan­tial,” says Koirala.

There has been no shortage of great roles in the past though. Whether it was Shaila Bano, the migrant caught in terrible communal riots in Mani Ratnam’s Bombay (1995), or Kiran, the singer who refuses to let society dictate how she will live her married life in Mansoor Khan’s Akele Hum Akele Tum (1995); whether it was Meghna, the enig­matic terrorist who becomes the object of Shah Rukh Khan’s obsessive attention in Dil Se (1998), or Rajjo, the ladki who captivates Anil Kapoor in 1942: A Love Story (1994), Koirala’s career was a rare mix of mainstream and arthouse success. She was part of the generation of female actors such as Kajol, Raveena Tandon, Pooja Bhatt, and Karisma Kapoor, who were restricted by poor writing and in­adequate characterisation. They are also actors who are seeing a much-needed revival in their fifties with the rise of OTT.

They were also defined by the height of a confessional, sensational and bold style of film magazine covers where the women often made more news for saying the unsayable and being photographed wearing the unwearable. Koirala was always good copy, says Khalid Mohamed, veteran journalist and filmmaker. “She was well spoken, articulate and not snooty at all,” he says. It helped that she was beautiful, with translucent skin and the slight imper­fection of a chipped tooth.

“Mallikajaan is beyond my imagination. No one knew how it would turn out. Though Sanjay Leela Bhansali kept saying, ‘You don’t know what you have done.’ I trusted him blindly and gave it my all, says Manisha Koirala, actor

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Yet she was consistently plagued by reports of excessive drinking by a far more feisty film media in the 1990s. Her dating habits were always a subject of scrutiny, whether it was the legendary romance with actor Nana Patekar or a more sedate relationship with a former Australian envoy to Nepal. She was famously married to a Nepali business­man Samrat Dahal for two years before a bitter divorce. In her book, Healed: How Cancer Gave Me a New Life, written in 2018, she writes often about being disappointed in love and “choosing the wrong guy”. All she will say about it now is this: “Actors are now savvier than I was, so there were times when the media wrote things that hurt. But you’ve got to move on and forget the rest.”

She was fiercely proud of her financial and emotional independence. It has become even stronger now. “Be a warrior from day one,” is her advice to women. “Because of age, sexuality or caste, some of us are made to feel less, don’t accept it. Everyone is God’s child.”

Cancer leaves an impact on your body and mind, she says. “It depends on the circumstances of each patient. Mine has left me hungrier for more out of life. I had double responsibility. My life had to come back on track and I didn’t want people to see me as a victim. Now I am keen to work on interesting projects. Physically and mentally, we have to work with our new body but it shouldn’t limit us. Mallikajaan is beyond my imagina­tion. No one knew how it would turn out. Though Sanjay kept saying, ‘You don’t know what you have done.’ I trusted him blindly and gave it my all.”

The industry has changed a lot now, she says. “It demands focus, dedication and excellence. If you’re willing to give that, it will embrace you. Sure there have been bad times, when people have been cruel, but I am grateful to the industry and the country,” she says. A particularly difficult time for her was after 2002, when she wasn’t getting the kinds of roles she was used to as a new genera­tion of filmmakers and actors took over in Mumbai. In 2004, she went to New York University to study filmmak­ing and set up a production company when she returned to Mumbai, but with little success. By the time cancer struck in 2012, the roles had dried up.

Five years later, she made some headway with parts in Dear Maya and Sanju. In 2023, she even played mother to Kartik Aaryan in Shehzada, a remake of Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo, the Telugu blockbuster. But it took Heeramandi to in­troduce her to a new generation, which is now discovering her incredible oeuvre with classic directors.

Would she do it again? Step away from her political family (her grandfather BP Koirala was prime minister of Nepal) and enter the entertainment industry? She says, “My grandmother allowed me to enter the industry and told me whatev­er you do you should be the best at it. But I would say, if you come to the profession, choose it correctly and give it your best. It is a roller coaster ride but stay true to your art and to your commitment. Choose the profession for what you can give it. Things will fall into place if you work hard. Remember, there are a lot of ups and downs in the profession emotionally, physically and mentally.”

“Cancer has left me hungrier for more out of life. I had double responsibility. My life had to come back on track and I didn’t want people to see me as a victim. Now I am keen to work on interesting projects,” says Manisha Koirala

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Suhasini Maniratnam, who worked with her on husband Mani’s films, Bombay and Dil Se, calls her a “free spir­it”. “She’s a good friend and personally a very nice girl. Once she is in front of the camera, she’s professional. She was a good actress and she could be both very real and a star. She keeps in touch with us even after so many years and she’s someone who is approachable. An ethereal beauty, she worked very hard on her Tamil with utmost dedication and gelled very well with the Tamil film industry.”

Indeed. She acted with the star Kamal Haasan in Indian (1996) and was directed by S Shankar in Mudhalvan in 1999. In 2008, she was directed by the late Rituparno Ghosh in Khela.

Veteran journalist and author Bhawana Somaaya still remembers her when she was in her first Hindi film, Saudagar (1991). She shone in it, and blossomed in 1942: A Love Story, she says. “She came from Nepal and was strikingly beautiful. Fragile like glass. She was always a performer. Mani Ratnam was stumped by her ability to dance and emote and Bhansali said she was always prepared on the sets of Khamoshi: The Musical.”

Now that she looks back on a career of 100 films across three decades, Koirala says: “I would want to have a career like Meryl Streep, do meaningful, impactful and powerful roles with good directors. I would like to be a global artist. But for that I have to keep on working at my craft. I never expected the love I’ve got for Heeramandi. It’s the most welcome surprise till date in my life. I never planned this. I had promised myself if I get well, I will be advocating that there is life after cancer. Sometimes even a better life.”

About The Author

Kaveree Bamzai

Kaveree Bamzai is an author and a contributing writer with Open

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