Less Like a Star

We’re sitting in a semi-circle, ogling at the small black and white TV box. It is mounted on a gold-washed metal table, its legs fitted with wheels. There is pin drop silence in the room. Watching the TV, sat my siblings, aunt, grandparents, and cousins. The music from the TV displaying the chandana logo pierced into the silent room. Our hearts beating faster and the joy in our eyes with a thin smile waiting on the lip, as we wait to be sure it’s Anant Nag’s movie playing that Sunday evening at 4 pm.

If you’ve watched Anant Nag’s movies you’d agree that he was the most relatable actor of those times. By relatable I mean, he was not overtly dramatic. He acted well. Very well. He did it effortlessly. He was versatile, never confining himself to a particular genre - a tendency many actors of his stature seemed to follow. Lately, when I learnt that his background entails lots of theatre and stage work before he entered the big screens, I was not surprised. It all dates back to the 60s when he moved to Mumbai as a teen. That’s where he discovered theatre and acted in Konkani, Kannada and Hindi plays.

The one movie that left a mark for me was Na ninna bidalare and Gowri Ganesha. They were not oscar worthy or extraordinary movies, but the simple and heartwarming storytelling kept me hooked as a ten year old mesmerised by the world inside that little TV box. Then came the famous kids favourite, Malgudi Days, which was directed by his late brother Shankar Nag (who was a maverick talent on his own). I just recently found out it was again a collaborated project of the Nag brothers. Anant Nag also collaborated with acclaimed filmmaker Shyam Benegal, appearing in films such as Ankur (1974) and Nishant (1975).

The cinema of the ’80s was a sepia-toned kind of magic with raw, real talent that lit up our screens and transported us to a different world. We didn’t have social media. The only world actors took us along became our only source of joy and entertainment. In today’s language, you could almost call it our daily dose of data. Anant Nag made us laugh and believe him, so much so that we thought that’s how he must be in real life. It just felt like he is one of us and yet has that extra edge and extraordinary talent to stand out as an actor.

Anant Nag received the Padma Bhushan last year. This year he bagged the Dadasaheb Phalke award for his contribution to Indian cinema over five decades. He is the second kannada actor to win the Phalke after Dr. Rajkumar.

But for me, the real celebration is far more personal.

It’s the memory of those Sunday evenings. The semi-circle around the television. The familiar music. The anticipation. The little smiles. The magic of watching someone who felt less like a star and more like someone we knew.
Our semi-circle TV-watching ritual may have come to an end, but Anant Nag’s career has come full circle.