There was something extraordinary about Nawazuddin Siddiqui when I saw him for the first time in Kabir Khan’s New York. He played a victim of cultural targeting. In a monologue that rips a hole in your soul, Nawaz’s character comes on camera to tell us what was done to him and his family by the cops on suspicion of terror activities.
Nawaz never gave a better performance.
The voice, the eyes, brimming with unspeakable pain, it looked like a video recording of a real-life victim, like a Jew or a Kashmiri Pandit telling us what he has gone through during the holocaust. When I asked Kabir where he had got that documentary footage, he laughed, “No no that’s not real footage. That’s a brilliant unknown actor named Nawazuddin Siddiqui.”
That’s how our association began. Since New York, Nawaz has effortlessly climbed from glory to glory. He has been feted by both the national and the international press. They just can’t get enough of him. The highlight of global renown for Nawaz was when he was called handsome and compared with the legendary actor Marcello Mastroianni by the Italian press.
I have never seen him happier. “Marcello Mastroianni???!!! Oh my God! He is the ultimate in good looks. The consummate matinee idol. And to be compared to him. Main kabhi sapne mein bhi nahin socha tha (I never thought even in my dreams that this would happen to me). I always had a persecution complex about my dark skin and looks. I never thought of myself as handsome. When I would tell my folks that I wanted to be an actor back in my hometown Budhana, they would react with sarcasm. ‘Tu apne aap ko bada Dilip Kumar, Rajesh Khanna samjhta hai?’ (who do you think you are?). I would look myself in the mirror and be stricken with self doubt. Was I really cut out for acting?”
What kept Nawaz going through years of struggle in Mumbai? “It was my belief that I had the talent. I may not be good-looking like the gora-chitta filmy heroes of yesteryears who were always coming first-class-first in their studies. But I had what it takes to be an actor. Back then I’d sign any small part that came my way. When you have your belly to fill you don’t go into aesthetics of your vocation. You just take what comes your way.”
The breakthrough performance was, not Anurag Kashyap’s Gangs Of Wasseypur or Sacred Games, as most believe. It was a film called Patang directed by Prashant Bhargava in 2012 where Nawaz played a small part. He was hailed by America’s most famous critic Roger Ebert who invited Nawaz to his home.
“I respect all critics. But Roger Ebert is God. He called me home, offered me tea and snacks, spoke to me like I was a brilliant actor. It was a high point in my life. Going suddenly from a struggler to an actor who is noticed by the world’s eminent critics, was more than a dream come true. Meeting Roger Ebert was definitely a highpoint. Another highpoint was Gangs Of Wasseypur. Anurag Kashyap gave me a commercial standing. That’s why when he asked me to just a voice performance in AK Versus AK, I happily agreed. It is important to not get carried away when fame and fortune come knocking after years of struggle,” opines Nawaz.
His marriage went through some turbulent times three years. Now Nawaz says it’s all good. “I have never been more at peace with myself. I don’t regret doing anything. Even when there was so much being said on my marriage, I didn’t utter a word. It’s best to wait for the storm to pass.”
The first time that Nawazuddin Siddiqui came home, he was walking with the help of a stick: he had injured himself while shooting for Ketan Mehta’s Mountain Man in Gaya. When I asked him if it was worth it to risk his life for a role, he replied gently, “Sir, anything for a role.”
For Sudhir Mishra’s Afwaah, Nawaz was required to work on his English with a voice coach to sound like the NRI’s character. The actor apparently couldn’t find the time for the prep. Resultantly, the character in Afwaah goes around with his hat-the-phuk accent more suited to an NRA (non rehearsed actor) than an NRI.
When Nawazuddin came home for the second time, it was a different man with a different plan. Nawazuddin appeared far more confident now. He showed me his newly-born daughter’s pictures on his phone. When I asked if he would like her to be an actress, he shook his head vigorously in the negative and said, “Sir aisi bud-dua na de.”
Now one hears his daughter is prepping to enter the film industry. Good luck for that.
