We need more powerful scripts and well-etched out characters: Sulochana Latkar

You were born in a small village near Kolhapur? Did your parents name you Sulochana because of your beautiful eyes?

I was born in Khadaklat village near the Kolhapur-Belgaum border but I don’t think parents then put so much thought into naming their children. I was variously called Rangu, Gangu and even Nagu (since I was born on Nag Panchami). It was only after I came to Kolhapur that I was given this name. I don’t know if it had anything to do with my eyes (laughs).

Films fascinated you since a very young age.
Yes, my mother, maasi and me were hooked to cinema. No one had heard of TV in that era. Household chores done, we’d head to the touring talkies tent and watch the same movie for a month. Though it seems wholly inappropriate now, it helped of course that my father was a foujdar in the police and we never had to pay for tickets.

The plague was seen as a curse during those times, but in a way, it propelled you into acting?
Yes, you could say that. The plague had led to evacuation of our village when I was barely 13. We shifted to Chikodi to a close friend S Benadekar a teacher’s house. He was close friends with my father. Master Vinayak Karnataki, the film-maker, his student would often visit him. During one such visit, my mother got me dressed in a nine-yard sari and presented me. “Master Vinayak this girl’s no good at studies or housework. Why don’t you find her work in films?” she asked. He asked me to come to Kolhapur to join his company.

When you joined Praful Pictures in Kolhapur, it was your first experience of being in a city. Was that fun?
No no... I used to be quite homesick. I also harboured a huge complex about being illiterate and unable to speak in a polished way. Though he did it in a good-natured way, poet-lyricist’s Ga Dee Madgulkar’s mimicry of my language would often reduce me to tears. I’d run off to cry in a corner of the sprawling studio. Lata Mangeshkar who had herself come from humble beginnings would come looking for me and pacify me.

She would take me to her room and chat with me, perking me up. She even took on some superiors who tried to humiliate me for being too familiar with seniors like her. “Whenever you feel like, just come to my room and we can talk,” she would re-assure and look out for me.

It is perhaps these roots that have left us so attached to each other. Though our age and health problems do not allow us to meet more frequently as before, we still find time to visit each other and reconnect.

There were other legends too at Praful Pictures..
Yes there was lyricist Vasant Jogalekar, Meenakshi Shirodkar (who stunned sensibilities by becoming the first Indian woman to wear a bikini on-screen in 1938 for Brahmachari) and Sumati Gupte were all there. In that sense I feel privileged that I got to learn from many seniors right from the beginning.

Tell us about your first forays into acting...
My first film was Chimukla Sansar (1943). I had to push a toy cart with Raja Gosavi. The camera lingered on its moving wheels while the opening credits rolled. Apart from that the camera zoomed in on me and my hands in another scene where I clap at a cricket match. Despite having no lines and a bit part, I still remember how excited I was when Bhaurao Datar, did my make-up.

Fate had other plans though and you landed up working for the legend Bhalji Pendharkar’s Jaya Prabha studio next...
Yes Praful Pictures was shifting to Bombay and both me and my family were scared of shifting to such a big city. In those days it felt like the equivalent of moving to London (laughs). I backed out and was soon married at 14. It was my in-laws and husband’s support that saw me approach Bhalji -who we call Baba -for work.

Many like Lata Mangeshkar have called Baba an institution.
And that’s true. He was associated with cinema since the silent era. There was so much Baba picked up out of just observing what was happening in the world of cinema outside and mixing it with native wisdom. For example he didn’t have resources for a trolley-shot so he’d attach the camera to a bullock cart and get two people to raise it gently from behind giving the same effect.

All actors and crew would assemble in the ground for a prayer led by Baba himself in the morning. The first shot would be done before 9 am. This prayer routine would be repeated in the evening at 6 pm before everyone left for home too. He seemed strict during the rehearsals which like plays would go on for two whole months, but would go out of his way to care for everyone like family.  I learnt everything from walking, talking, riding horses, sword-fighting under his guidance.

And that’s how you got your first lead role...
Yes after a second lead in Sasurvas he offered me the lead in Jai Bhavani. The appreciation that followed established me in the industry and I began gaining the admiration, respect and position I yearned for. I did a spate of films both social and historical and became a household name.

The only time you danced the lavni and played a character with negative shades was Bhaubeej (1955).
Yes. It was very tough for someone like me since I’d never danced before ever. After months of hardwork, I did the role, but it shocked audiences who criticised me for taking up a role like this. I was told to my face, “It is as disturbing as watching our mother or sister as a courtesan.” I felt why work so hard and do something people don’t like and never went that way again.

You began doing Hindi films in the late 1950s?
Yes it began with Abb Dilli Door Nahin (1957). But I was apprehensive about getting into character roles. Even when Bimalda (Bimal Roy) approached me with Sujata (1959) I was in two minds. I felt that I will lose out on playing heroine myself if I play mother to Shashikala and Nutan. I consulted Lalitabai (Lalita Pawar). She asked me, “Do you want to be heroine for the next few years or have long innings as an actor?” and advised, “If you do a Bimal Roy film it will stand you in good stead always.” I’m glad I took her advice.

What was Bimalda like to work with?
Bimalda would spend a lot of time getting the actors to understand the character. But he wouldn’t try to impose his interpretation. He would let you explore and gently nudge you if went off-track. There was a lot of emphasis on subtlety and keeping it real.

You’ve done over 200 films and seen the film industry from its pre-Independence days. From its threadbare avatar, it has gone to become formidable with the latest technology, superstars and multi-crore films. What does it feel like to look back at this journey?
It is of course great to see the technology and the production quality in the films but we are increasingly losing its soul. We need more powerful scripts and well-etched out characters. Earlier even if you did a bit role as a mother it was written in an integral way to the plot and kept very real. This made audiences identify with the character and relate to her. I often wish that was brought back.

You’ve played mother to virtually all top stars from the 60s to now in Hindi and Marathi? But the mother’s becoming glamorous and can even shake a leg when needed. Do you ever wish there had been such roles for you too?
See the current on-screen mothers are a reflection of the times we live in. Mothers are educated, earning and assertive. We played mothers who were house bound and illiterate with little exposure. That worked then but this works now. I feel its best to keep pace with the time.

Who among the stars would you rank as your favourite on-screen child?
(Laughs) That would be really tough to say. I have played mother to everyone from Kashinath Ghanekar, Dilip Kumar, Dev Anand, Amitabh Bachchan and recently Bharat Jadhav. Picking a favourite is difficult but it feels nice too see the love and respect with which they greet me whenever we meet.

Do you feel that recognition and state honour has taken its time finding you?
The love from audiences is enough to keep me going. I’ve never hankered for more. I feel blessed and privileged to have been conferred the Padmashri and the Maharashtra Bhushan awards. As for the others, there are several seniors artistes who are far more deserving. The honour should come at a time when the artiste can at least feel happy that he’s honoured. It just broke my heart to see the way Pran saab was given the Dadasaheb Phalke award so late when he practically had gone beyond enjoying the moment.

You keep getting offers...
Yes. But my foot is in bad shape due to age. So I can’t get into a hectic schedule. I'm still open to good roles, though. Which actor doesn’t hunger for more?

To view rare archival photographs from Latkar's personal collection, click here.