In memoriam: Om Puri, an actor par excellence, a man without artifice

Om Puri was someone who defied all stereotypes. In the early 1970s, 1980s and even 1990s where stereotypes were everything, he was perhaps one of the most ill suited persons to stand in front of the camera. Indeed, Puri, as he confessed himself, neither looked like a hero, villain, or comedian, and it became difficult for directors to slot him. But this perceived ‘weakness’ would prove to be his greatest strength as he blended effortlessly into his characters, creating a body of work that few could even aspire to, let alone emulate. For over four decades, Puri was one of cinema’s — not just Indian cinema’s — most gifted actors, with an oeuvre that would make him known the world over.

It wasn’t just raw talent though that made him what he was; Puri was also a man who was there at the right place at the right time. During the 1970s, a time of great social upheaval in the country, audiences demanded something more, and actors like him were there to provide it. From Govind Nihalani’s Aakrosh, Ardh Satya, Aaghat and Tamas to Shyam Benegal’s Antarnaad, Kalyug and Bhumika and Kundan Shah’s unforgettable Jaane Bhi do Yaaron, Puri wowed Indian audiences and then seemingly decided the Indian stage was not big enough for him. Hollywood called and Puri answered, and today his role as a rickshaw puller opposite Patrick Swayze in City of Joy has to be ranked as one of his best performances.

Speaking about the role later in an interview, Puri revealed that once while rehearsing, he stopped at a roadside tea-stall where two elderly men were sitting. Recognising him, they asked if he was Om Puri, to which he said, “Yes”. As he was leaving, he heard one of the men tell the other, “Poor Om Puri, what a fine actor he used to be. And imagine he’s pulling a rickshaw now. He must have fallen on very hard days.”    

Hollywood was just the beginning of Puri’s international foray. Indeed, long before the term ‘fusion cinema’ came into vogue, this man was hopping continents, ensuring that he became a truly international name. In the UK, his portrayal of a stern Pakistani father in the British film East is East; and then the bewildered father of a son who becomes an Islamic extremist in My Son the Fanatic, was enough to win him an OBE in 2004. This honour had followed the Padma Shri in 1990 showing that wherever he decided to act — be in India or abroad— Puri would make it to the top.

It wasn’t just Om Puri’s reel life that captivated us; it was his real life too. In a time where actors nurse egos, keep the media at bay, and weigh every word they say, Om Puri was in a league apart. Always accessible and often controversial, he shocked Indians when during a TV debate last year on Army jawans who had lost their lives, he lost his cool, and stated, “Who asked the soldiers to join the Army? Who told them to pick up weapons?”

Needless to say, his remarks were rightly attacked, but not one to hide — Om Puri came out again on national television where he apologised. And to show he really meant he was sorry, he went and visited the slain jawan’s family where he apologised again and wept. There was no pretence. No “I said it but I didn’t really mean it” and neither an “I was quoted out of context”. Om Puri simply said sorry.

Perhaps that was why the thespian appealed to so many of us. He made mistakes, he apologised and then he got on with living life, by doing what he did best — acting.  

Memories of the veteran will fade in time, but if there is anything that one can learn from Om Puri, it is that life can work out the way we want, if we let it. He was not conventionally good looking, yet he made a place for himself in Indian cinema; his English lagged behind his peers, yet he made the bigger impact on the international stage. In India, he was one of the few actors who matched Amitabh Bachchan frame by frame in Govind Nihalani’s film Dev.

That film, with its thought provoking exchanges between him and Bachchan, is perhaps one of the best ways to enjoy Om Puri the actor. At home as a whiskey drinking police commissioner or a tea-drinking rickshaw puller, this thespian showed that in a world of make believe, he could make everything real.