What
Jameela did was historically important: studying at a film institute in 1969,
at a time when women, especially from the Muslim community, were not encouraged
to do higher studies.
In an
acting class at the prestigious Pune Film and Television Institute of India
(FTII), sometime in the early 1970s, filmmaker Mrinal Sen walked in for a
lecture. He looked at the class of one female student and many men and began,
“One lady and gentlemen.”
There was a
lot of laughter that day, Jameela Malik, that one female student remembered in
an article she wrote decades later. She died four days ago, aged 73, and
holding a record that people writing her obit would begin with: the first
Malayali woman to study at FTII, in 1969.
It has a
lot of historical importance, Prem Chand, journalist and film critic, says.
“Not just because she was the first Malayali woman to study at FTII, but also
for being a Muslim woman living in those times,” he says.
You wonder
if it is luck, timing or just the fact that she was a woman that prevented her
from enjoying the same status that the men in her batch would come to enjoy.
“Those were
the days you only heard of men going away to Pune to study films,” says
Sreebala K Menon, writer-filmmaker. Jameela happened to be among the first and
few women to have gone far from home, to train in acting. “It was too early.
The men who studied with her would come back and create a new wave of cinema, but
that would take years to happen. When Jameela came back after her course, she
somehow became part of commercial cinema, which possibly had different demands
from an actor, than what you’d expect of one who has been to FTII. The skills
she’d picked up, more suited for the parallel cinema that her batch mates would
later make, could not be put to use just then. And by the time they were making
cinema, Jameela had already faded into the background, perhaps with family
responsibilities,” says Sreebala.
Jameela was
still known for her historical achievement, one that few women followed after
her. Women from Kerala did go to FTII later on, to learn technical skills such
as cinematography and editing. But few have been known to take up an acting
course in particular.
Jameela
must have been in her early 20s then, going away from her home in Kollam after
finishing Class 10. Mother Thankamma Malik and father Malik Mohammed, both
culturally and socially active, had little doubt about sending their talented
girl to learn acting from the best in the country. To be sure though, they
checked with Basheer, iconic and much quoted writer of Malayalam fiction who
made simple literature appealing to all. Basheer, a close friend of the family,
agreed that Jameela should go to Pune.
The
audition was in the then Madras ,
at the Adayar institute, Jameela would narrate in future interviews. There were
three judges to evaluate her: Telugu superstar P Bhanumathi, vice principal of
FTII Jagat Murari and Tamil director Bhim Singh. They liked her. She got chosen
as one of the only two girls in her batch for the acting course.
This was
five decades ago. Women who were allowed to do higher education were few.
Muslim women were fewer still. Thanks to her progressive parents – who
themselves had a Christian-Muslim marriage, defying norms – Jameela could chase
her dream. A dream she formed after years of watching cinema freely, a
privilege that came from having socially affluent parents. Thankamma was
Gandhi’s disciple, and Jameela had for long kept a letter her mother once
received from the Mahatma.
Jameela was
nervous when she stepped into the Pune campus. But there she found a very
familiar world of Malayalis. Names that would become much revered in Malayalam
cinema were enlisted the same or nearly the same year as Jameela. KG George,
Shaji N Karun, John Abraham, KR Mohanan – all of whom would become renowned
filmmakers of art house cinema, and Ramachandra Babu, who’d become a noted
cinematographer. KG George cast her as the heroine of his diploma film Faces.
Ramachandra Babu was its cinematographer.
There was
also Ravi Menon, who’d become a known actor later. Jameela, however, didn’t
quite follow in the same footsteps as the others and didn’t quite make a mark
for herself in Malayalam cinema, barring a few films in the 1970s and 80s.
“Ravi Menon
got so many opportunities, he was the hero of a certain period of Malayalam
cinema. But somehow Jameela didn’t get that kind of a welcome,” Prem Chand
says. A sign, if you notice, that women had to walk the tougher road at all
times; even with the same qualifications and exposure, they had to play the
second fiddle.
After she
completed her acting course, Jameela went to live in Mumbai for a while, hoping
to get a break in cinema. Several chances slipped through her hands, she wrote
later. When nothing worked out, she went to Madras . She got her first feature in
Malayalam, a film called Ragging. Jameela was cast as the heroine opposite
Vincent. Actor-director Cochin Hanifa made his acting debut in this
film. While the release was delayed a little, Jameela got two more films:
Adyathe Katha and Sathi. When Ragging finally released, it didn’t click. So
didn’t Jameela’s luck.
She did
have a few more brushes with luck. There was the time when she became heroine
of Pandavapuram, based on writer Sethu Madhavan’s novel of the same name. Sethu
wrote a condolence post on Facebook, but he didn’t know her well enough to
comment about her, he said. She lived away (from where he was) in
Thiruvananthapuram. That’s where she moved to from Madras , after marriage. A marriage that
lasted only a year and gave her a son with whom she spent the last years of her
life, in a rented house near Bheemapally. Obituaries lamented about Jameela
having to take Hindi tuitions in her last years to make a living.
“This is
true. She took tuitions, she didn’t want to beg anyone for any favours,” says
actor-director Madhupal, who was with her in the final days and sent out word
to others in the film industry on her passing.
In an
interview, Jameela said she is grateful to the Association of Malayalam Movie
Artists for sending her money in the years she became unwell.
Jameela was
the kind of woman who did not whine about lost chances, who didn’t want to
blame others for not giving her a chance. She wrote that she was okay with it
all. Somehow, it didn’t work out for her. “I feel she was this woman who went
to this great institute, but didn’t know how to act in life,” Madhupal says,
continuing his earlier observation of how Jameela never asked for help. “Till
the end though, she had always wanted to act, that desire was there. She never got
the consideration she should have, but if it was today, a woman graduating from
FTII would have got a lot more attention,” Madhupal adds.
The people
with whom Jameela associated were all great – she had acted in Tamil and Hindi
cinema at a time when women from Kerala rarely did. She’d speak about working
with Jayalalithaa in her last film, Nadhiyai Thedi Vandha Kadal. About meeting
MGR. About her connections in Hindi cinema – Jaya Bachchan, then Jaya Bhaduri,
was her senior at college, who used to rag her in fun, Jameela would write
later.
“In
Bollywood and Marathi cinema, FTII graduates are treated with a lot of respect.
Somehow in Malayalam cinema, FTII graduates in acting – or for that matter
actors coming out of any such prestigious institute – rarely find a place for
themselves. Madhu sir (who studied at the National School of Drama) is an
exception. Jameela, for some reason, could not represent the change in
Malayalam cinema. It is actors like Jalaja who became representative of the new
wave back then. It’s said Jameela was supposed to act in John Abraham’s
Agraharathil Kazhutha but that too didn’t materialise. She was just not placed
in cinema properly,” Sreebala says.
The actor
seemed to fade away as the years passed. After the 80s she was limited to
performing on the mini screen.
“She was
not ready for any of those terms you hear about – ‘compromise’ or ‘adjustment’.
She also never tried to gain opportunities through her friendships. All I could
say is she was really under-utilised by Malayalam cinema. This was a pioneer, a
woman taking a big step in 1969. What Malayalam cinema did to her is wrong,”
Prem Chand says.
(Courtesy:
The News Minute)