Peek into the life of Bollywoods Jubilee girl

From a frontline heroine to a stint as chairperson of the film censor board, Asha Parekh has had a long and illustrious career. Now, with an autobiography in the works, you can read all about it

Fifty years ago, she scored a consecutive number of four major box office bonanzas, all in the space of 12 months. Crossing over from the black-and-white era to splashy vibgyor cinema, Asha Parekh was instantly canonised as 'the jubilee girl', guaranteed to make the movie barons guffaw all the way to the till.

Now, at the age of 73 and a filmography of over 90 films, she has commenced writing her autobiography (after much procrastination), which will be flashback of her private and professional lives. Sensibly, yesteryear's frontline heroine hasn't signed up with any publishing house at present, in order to avoid interference. "I don't want to be bogged down by dos and don'ts," Asha tells me, when I drop by her neat apartment, done up in shades of white, on Mumbai's prime real-estate property, the Juhu seafront. "I just want to write an honest account of my journey from a child actress to a heroine, and simultaneously including other aspects, such as my stint as chairperson of the film censor board. Hopefully, the book should make for an engrossing read."

Just a decade ago, the actress lived in a one-of-a-kind bungalow, stylishly architected in Rajasthani salmon-hued stone. She had to let it go when her parents passed away. The bungalow was demolished and gave way to a seven-storey high-rise in which she occupies a penthouse. "I couldn't live in the bungalow any more," she explains. "It had too many memories. Moreover, it was far too difficult to maintain. I do miss that beautiful house, but one has to adapt to the times."

Her mother, who hailed from a Bohra Muslim family, and her father, who was from a Gujarati Hindu business family, had to elope in the 1940s. "Theirs is quite a dramatic love story but please don't ask me to elaborate on this. Read about it when the book is complete," she smiles, segueing into hostess mode by serving a pure vegetarian thaali. "It's not that I'm strictly vegetarian," she explains, while serving yam, daal, and diced paneer-and-peas topped with sheera. "Next time, I promise to cook up chicken coconut curry."

Often described as 'the sweetheart of the swinging 60s', she stayed away from marriage, although she almost took the plunge at one point. "That's a long story but, again, my reason for remaining single will be revealed in one of the chapters of the book," she says, evasively.

So what prompted her to get cracking on the book? To that, she responds, "Over the years, there have been several offers from publishers who wished to do a bilingual version, in English and Gujarati. I wasn't sure. I didn't want to blow my own trumpet. Then my friends badgered me and I decided to see how it would turn out. I certainly won't brag about my achievements, if I may call my films that. I can be quite objective about myself, fingers and toes crossed."

The 1960s belonged to the trinity of fast-rising young heroines: Asha Parekh, Saira Banu and Sadhana. Since they had their distinct personalities - of a livewire-cum-trained dancer, a classic beauty, and an eternal enigma respectively, no comparisons were made between them.

Eventually, after being confined to character parts, she switched to producing TV serials, the most prominent one being Baje Payal, which aired on Doordarshan. But she has withdrawn since. "There are far too many labyrinths to get a serial on air." Presently, she's knee-deep in ensuring that her charitable hospital runs smoothly, besides involving herself in the welfare of needy film artistes and technicians. Our conversation over lunch stretched on till early evening and tea. I want to know more about her and the book in the works. "You journalists are so impatient," she laughs. "When it's published, I'll give you one of the first copies. Promise!"