Full of lively anecdotes and wisdom, Sai Paranjpye’s memoir - A Patchwork Quilt - offers an exciting peek into the creative life of a pioneer of alternate, independent cinematic movement. Talking about the book, the legendary director and author said -

'A time will come when you will find yourself heading for the final departure lounge, wondering when your flight is to be announced. It is then that you will fervently wish to leave behind some small token of your having been around – not entirely without a purpose. An honest life story should leave nothing out. Every detail of a life well lived should be shared with the reader. All the ups and downs, bouquets and brickbats, achievements and failures, honours and slights, conquests and heartbreaks, friendships and feuds must be faithfully chronicled. I do hope that this quilt can provide some warmth and comfort to those it reaches.'

Here is an excerpt from the book -

Another scene from the film which won over the audiences was the Chamko soap episode. College-going students at that time had discovered a new activity to make a fast buck for pocket money. They became door-to-door salespeople, peddling toilet products, costume jewellery, scented josh sticks … whatever. Neha, too, joins the sales brigade. She arrives at the boys’ barsaati one day with her paraphernalia and rings the bell. Omi and Jo Jo in turn peep through the glass eye in the door to check who it is. They are stunned to see the very girl who has caused them much embarrassment. Instead of opening the door, they both rush down the back stairway and vanish from sight. Finally, Siddharth opens the door. He is taken aback to see this unfamiliar young damsel standing demurely at his doorstep. He has not seen her before and does not know that she is the one responsible for causing such turmoil for his two pals. Siddharth is not comfortable mingling with the fair sex. He tries to get rid of her, offering lame excuses. But the young lady is determined, and manages to gain entry into his flat, armed with her demo kit. Siddharth fetches a bucketful of water and towel, as per her bidding, after which she swings into action. She gives a convincing demonstration, extolling the virtues of her magical soap flakes, and dips the towel in the foaming bucket. She then announces that they will have to wait for five minutes, to give the formula time to work its charm. Those five minutes prove to be amazingly productive. From the confines of an enforced togetherness, a shared self-consciousness and stolen glances, an unplanned mutual attraction emerges. A tender bond is born. A popular song blares out on some distant radio: ‘Hum tum ek kamre me bandh ho... aur chabi kho jaaye... (Suppose we are locked up in a room, and the key is lost...)’ They both look at each other with a guilty start and Siddharth rushes to the door to open it wide. Neha smiles a dimpled smile in acknowledgement. They overcome their shy reserve. He gives her a laddoo made by his mother, and she tells him of the music lessons for which she is earning a little extra change. The five minutes are up. Neha pulls out a sparkling white towel triumphantly and asks, ‘Isn’t it spotlessly clean?’

‘But I gave you a towel fresh from the laundry,’ retorts Siddharth. ‘How could I give you a soiled item?’

After the release of the film, two or three detergent companies launched new brands and called them Chamko, but the bubbles did not take too long to burst. Another trend that became popular was Deepti’s name in the film, Neha. I have any number of goddaughters 305 Chashme Buddoor born in the early 1980s named Neha. The beautiful name was suggested by Indu Jain.

Saeed Jaffery put his heart and soul into the character of the paanwallah. The very day he arrived from London, he insisted on visiting old Delhi. Naturally, I accompanied him. He must have visited at least fifty-odd owners of paan kiosks. He observed their body language, their mannerisms, their language and its nuances with great attention. He was extremely particular about having a suitable name in the film, to the point of being finicky. Lachhan, Fumman, Gulshan, Jumman, Dadoo, Babban were some names that cropped up, were discussed and rejected. ‘The bell has not tolled as yet,’ he would say. We became despondent and a little exasperated. Then one day he called me, waking me up very early in the morning and said, ‘Aadaab. This is Lallan Mian speaking.’ The bell had finally tolled!

One day we were shooting in the natty little paan shop, set up by the roadside in Nizamuddin East. The scene was about Lallan Mian scolding the three musketeers about the bills they had run up, and their non-payment. Suddenly, Lallan’s arm shot up in the middle of a take. He whispered something to the spot boy and pointed to the cluster of viewers lining the other side of the road. The spot boy crossed over and within minutes returned brandishing a lungi in the air, like a victory flag. It was a purple lungi with a huge yellow Taj Mahal adorning it – the very epitome of kitsch art. Lallan Mian handed over his own brand-new lungi, wrapped the new acquisition around his waist, and the shooting resumed.

Farooq Shaikh was very religious. He was also disciplined to a fault. He never touched cigarettes or liquor. So a chain-smoking hero was a difficult proposition. We would cut the shot as soon as he raised the cigarette to his lips. Friendly and generous, he always rushed to help those in need. Once, a light boy fell from the roof while fixing lights in Defence Colony. He was admitted to a hospital. Farooq would quietly visit him every day, pay for his tonics, take him fruits and biscuits and so on. He was truly God’s good man or Khuda ka banda. Whenever business took him to Calcutta (it had not then become Kolkata) – as it did often – he would unfailingly get me mishti doi, a yogurt made with date jaggery – the father of all sweets, in my book. ‘What to do?’ He would smile. ‘One has to keep the director happy.’

Get a copy of this book to read the inspiring story of a fascinating life here - https://www.amazon.in/Patchwork-Quilt-Collage-Creative-Life/dp/9390327482