I used to see Hrishida (Hrishikesh Mukherjee) drop in to meet Bimalda (Bimal Roy) even after he branched out and became a full-fledged director while I was an assistant to Bimalda. I became acquainted with his genius then. I remember Hemantda (Hemant Kumar) sending me to meet Hrishida when he was working on Aashirwad. I worked on the screenplay and became fast friends with his younger brother, Chhotuda. Hrishida loved all my suggestions and impertinence; if I may add, he indulged me.

A funny incident occurred at Bimalda’s place. Those days, Hrishida also suffered from gout, so he would limp a bit. Once he reached the house, he started limping, and the art director Sudhenduda (Roy) joked that he had gout in his left leg, not the right. Hrishida looked sheepish and laughed at the joke sportingly.

There is a scene in Aashirwad where a child’s chain has been snatched on the road, and typically in the scene, a crowd gathers. An onlooker says, “There’s so much crime and corruption; yeh government nahi chal sakti.” I thought Hrishida would cut that line, but he actually loved it and said it gives the scene its character.

It sounds cliché, but we all worked like a family. We collaborated on so many things and never fought for our credit because we learned so much from him. He gave us so much through his films.

What did I learn from Hrishida? I learned that it’s important to have a sense of humour, to keep your cool, and to concentrate on your work. Nothing else matters.

I also learned brevity in a scene from Hrishida: keep to the point. Many times, I’ve worked on Hrishida’s films written by other writers too. He would say, “Gulu, dekh lena.” And we did it happily out of love and respect for him.

There are so many memories with Hrishida that I could fill a book with his anecdotes. I remember narrating Anand to Kaka (Rajesh Khanna). He was excited and came with me to Hrishida’s bungalow, insisting on doing the film. Hrishida told Kaka that he couldn’t afford his exorbitant price. In fact, he couldn’t pay him anything at all. The producer, Mr. NC Sippy was sitting there, and Hrishida asked Kaka to discuss finances with him. Finally, it was decided that Kaka would not take his remuneration but the Bombay territory of Anand, which turned out to be a wise move because the film did very well. Those days, when a film ran for 25 weeks, the technicians received a bonus. When they approached Hrishida, tongue firmly in cheek, he told them to please ask the producer or Rajesh Khanna; he has the Bombay territory.

I remember during Anand, two songs—Kahin door jab and Zindagi kaisi hai—had been written by Yogesh for Salilda (Salil Chowdhary) for an unreleased film. Hrishida bought the songs from the producer of the unreleased film for 2000 each. He then asked me to write a sequence appropriate for the songs and also asked me to write two more songs for the film. That’s how I wrote Maine tere liye and Naa jiya lage na for Anand.

Sippy saab was a wonderful man and very empathetic. I remember he wasn’t too happy about Khubsoorat and didn’t give it much of a chance. He said, “I will give you 10,000 rupees if this film crosses 10 weeks at the box office.” Khubsoorat ran for over 30 weeks. I had forgotten the matter completely. True to his word, Sippy Saab called me to his office and made his son Romu cut me a cheque.”

Another incident happened during Anand when my name was missing from the credits. Two people, including Meenaji (Meena Kumari), noticed that my name was absent. I brought it to Sippy saab’s attention. He called back all the prints of the film and ensured that my name as dialogue writer was reinstated. Another fun incident during Khubsoorat occurred when, halfway through the film, Hrishida asked me for a title. I suggested “Namkeen.” After some days, he said it didn’t work for him. So I said I would give him a “Khubsoorat” title, but he had to promise me a bottle of cognac. He agreed, and I gave him the title Khubsoorat. I used “Namkeen” for my own film, and again, true to his word, Sippy Saab gifted me a bottle of cognac.

Coming back to Hrishida, it was such a wonderful time collaborating with him on so many other films like Chupke Chupke, Abhimaan, Golmaal, and Khubsoorat.

I remember while shooting a film called Sardar Udham in London, Hrishida asked me to write Guddi and Anand. Later, Hrishida opted out of that film, which later became Jallianwala Bagh.

Hrishida hated his actors coming late and would reprimand them sharply. He would also fix the scene through his editing skills. This happened with Dharmendra and Sanjeev Kumar in a couple of films. They were late for the shoot, so Hrishida skillfully edited them into the sequence; the actors were surprised by how he did it. He would never pander to star egos or tantrums and never overshot. He skillfully edited his sequences even while directing them.

Hrishida’s sense of humour was legendary. In his wry manner, he made his point. He was very fond of his dogs and doted on them. Once, a gentleman came from Kolkata and was chatting with Hrishida when Hrishida told his man Friday to make some tea. The gentleman politely declined, saying he didn’t want it. Hrishida shot right back, “It’s for my dog, not for you.”

So many memories, so many wonderful times when we all worked like one happy family.

If Bimalda was the principal of the institute called my life, then Hrishida would be its professor.