Jaya Bachchan

One of the most important changes in my life when I started class V as a senior denizen of primary school was that I started entering the school building through the “portico entrance” rather than from the school grounds. The portico had conspicuously placed tall off-white boards with names of all headgirls listed in staid black letters; that’s where I first read the name Jaya Bhaduri. Having studied in her alma mater for fourteen years, and having shared board-space with her, my admiration for Jaya Bachchan is easily explained.

The Facebook 30 day Bollywood soundtrack challenge made me realise that many of the loveliest Lata Mangeshkar numbers are picturised on Jaya Bachchan. There will be a lot of talk of Lata Mangeshkar in this space (as is everywhere else). Jaya Bachchan, however, is one of the most underplayed, unsung heroines of Bollywood – always talked of in the context of Amitabh (or Rekha!) or her  political fiascos; her excellent acting is often forgotten.

Despite parents who were quite happy to keep me uninfluenced by the nineties bollywood, and a childhood sans cable tv, I was never deprived of Doordarshan screenings of some excellent Jaya films like Parichay, Mili, Sholay, Guddi and Koshish. I quite enjoyed her relatively recent Ma roles in Fiza, Laaga Chunari mein Daag and her Shahrukh-ki-ma roles through the last decade. What I absolutely adore though, is her portrayal of the unglam heroine in Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s Abhimaan, Bawarchi and Chupke Chupke – one might say, in teen filmon se Jaya-ji ne industry ko acting ki ABC sikha di.