The many Om Puris we will miss

The angry police officer of Ardh Satya, a movie that defined his career and made him an integral part of independent cinema along with the other great actor, his classmate from the 1973 batch of National School of Drama, partner in many fun-loving crimes and fellow student of Ebrahim Alkazi, Naseeruddin Shah. That was the Indie Om, much like Shah, paid “peanuts” for films that made history.

Then there was Happy Om, star of Priyadarshan comedies such as Hera Pheri and Malamal Weekly. This Om was cuddly, often excitable, always watchable.

There was also the International Om, who played Pakistanis (from George Khan in East is East to President Zia ul Haq in Charlie Wilson’s War) with as much aplomb as he did battered rickshaw pullers in Kolkata — for the role of Hasari Pal, he worked for a month as a rickshaw puller in the City of Joy, ferrying passengers around barefoot. This Om was a recipient of the Order of the British Empire, but never waved it about.

If Om Puri didn’t exist, Irrfan Khan and Nawazuddin Siddiqui would not.

He made it possible for so-called “unconventional” actors to play lead roles with confidence and aplomb. As Subhash Ghai once told Om’s friend Naseeruddin Shah, too much reality is not appreciated in Bollywood.

Even “ugly” has to be portrayed as “handsome ugly”. Om Puri made it possible for them to go out to seek work in international cinema. He made it possible for them to evolve their own distinct style.

He made it possible for us to be human and humane. That was his greatest contribution.

His generosity as an actor. As a friend. For much of that you will have to read (if you haven’t already) Naseeruddin Shah’s fine memoris, And Then One Day, where he chronicles several misadventures with Om, including a month when he was laid up in hospital and couldn’t roll a joint without the help of friend Om and wife Ratna Pathak Shah.

Or listen to what K Hariharan, director of Ghasiram Kotwal, the film based on Vijay Tendulkar’s play, has to say: “His talent lay in his ability to entrust his persona to the desires of the script and the vision of the director, at the same time. He made this possible by understanding the total context of the production itself. So it is not surprising that when we, the students of the FTII, formed the first film cooperative called YUKT in 1976 to produce ‘Ghashiram Kotwal’, he willingly joined the 16-member technical crew as the only student of acting. Besides essaying the lead role of Ghashiram, he took charge of transportation and accommodation for all the actors from the Theater Academy during the shooting! Om was just one of us and when time came to shift out of the FTII to work in the metropolis of Bombay, my parents were more than happy to have him stay at home. We all felt very proud when he was selected for several of the new wave films that were being launched during the heady days of the post-emergency Janata government.”

Indeed, his most enduring legacy is the characters he has left behind. The intense Anant Welankar of Govind Nihalani’s Ardh Satya, conflicted about his duty and the corrupt system he is up against, helpless to control his own violence and that which he sees around him. The cackling Ahuja of Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro, man of wobbly walk and wobblier morals, and outstanding Mahabharata scene. The rickshaw puller of City of Joy, and his electric dynamic with the late Patrick Swayze. The disgusted George of East is East, defeated by his children’s western ways. The Punjabi-speaking Khadak Singh, the man in search of his paise, in Hera Pheri. And most recently, the affable Papa Kadam enjoying a quiet romance with the gorgeous Madam Mallory, Helen Mirren, in The Hundred Foot Journey.

And his humanity — he was not perfect, none of us are. And he didn’t try to be. As his character in City of Joy says: Gods haven’t made it easy to be a human being. Swayze’s reply: That’s why it feels so good to beat the odds.

Indeed, in his wonderful career playing Everyman, Om Puri did more than beat the odds.

Also read: Om Puri's death leaves a gaping hole in Indian cinema. Tributes on Twitter

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