Revisiting The Film That Brought Raakhee And Sharmila Together News24 –
In sultry Kolkata, around 2 pm at the Tollygunge studios, the air is thick with humidity. Director Rituparno Ghosh is deep in discussion with one of his assistants. He looks up, frowning — then softens as I introduce myself. “Go into the set. Both of them are in there,” he says.
I step into the cavernous studio, nearly tripping over wires in the dim light. The set is a small, middle-class Bengali living room. Sitting inside are two legendary women, together for the first time since Daag. They’re discussing their climactic scene. Tension crackles in the air — not just from the impending confrontation, but from the stifling heat.
Raakhee spots me and smiles. I’m introduced to Sharmila, still luminous. When I compliment her, she gives a polite dimpled smile and says, “I look like a frog.”
Raakhee and I head to her tiny makeup room, cooled by a makeshift AC — a small comfort for a big star. “Everyone keeps talking about this grand reunion between two tigresses,” she says, amused. “The Kolkata press expected Rinku (Sharmila) and me to claw each other’s eyes out. I think they were disappointed when nothing happened. We met as though it had been three months, not three decades.”
The showdown-that-wasn’t took place earlier that day, when the two actresses were reintroduced by a visibly nervous Rituparno. Sharmila stood up and hugged Raakhee warmly. Whatever tensions may have existed during the Daag days were forgotten. Raakhee even helped Sharmila fix her makeup. From that moment on, they were completely at ease with each other.
It’s time for the scene. The two sit across from each other on set. Ghosh invites me to the monitor. Sharmila, playing a slightly fragile actress, looks edgy and distracted. Raakhee, as the detective, appears calm, assured, all-knowing. For this shot, Raakhee is meant to offer Sharmila a cup of tea, which she declines. Raakhee then rises and gazes beyond the frame. Shot over.
We return to Raakhee’s makeup room for lunch. A press conference is scheduled for 3 pm, and local journalists start to arrive. Nandita Das — who plays Raakhee’s niece but isn’t required for shooting that day — joins for the interaction. Soon, all three leading ladies are seated together, smiling as cameras flash.
Suddenly, a random carton of music cassettes appears — nothing to do with Shubho Mahurat. The cassettes are distributed regardless. I’m told it’s part of the film’s promotional deal to offset budget overruns. Brand placements abound in the film — even the tea Raakhee and Sharmila sip in the scene is sponsored.
Once the obligatory questions wrap up, Raakhee returns to the set for solo closeups. Sharmila chats with the press, while Nandita is cornered by journalists grilling her about Deepa Mehta’s aborted Water. “They just won’t let me forget Water,” she sighs, “though so much has happened since.”
Raakhee joins us, visibly tired. A young girl shyly approaches with a notebook. “I’m so happy to see both of you in Kolkata,” she says, eyes gleaming. A man follows, addressing Raakhee: “I’ve been following your films for a long time.” Raakhee raises an eyebrow. “I am privileged,” she replies dryly. He turns to Nandita next. “I loved you in that Bawandar picture.” Nandita smiles.
The three women — each striking in her own way — are part of a whodunit that promises something special. Though the tight budget is hard to miss, given the breathless pace of filming. “There’s hardly time to breathe between shots,” Raakhee remarks wryly. Both she and Sharmila put up with the heat without complaint — until Sharmila finally warns Rituparno to ease up, or risk her losing patience.
Raakhee wraps her scenes and departs. Rituparno now shifts focus to the rest of the shoot with Sharmila.
Shubho Mahurat marked a reunion of two powerhouses — Raakhee and Sharmila Tagore — three decades after their last film together, Yash Chopra’s Daag. Laughs Raakhee, ever composed: “Back then, the press hyped up our so-called rivalry. So when we came together again, the Kolkata press was bracing for fireworks. But sorry to disappoint — we met cordially and worked on Shubho Mahurat as true professionals.”
The highlight of Ghosh’s elegantly mounted drama lies in the layered scenes between these two icons. Raakhee, ever gracious, acknowledges that Sharmila has the meatier role. “But when have I ever been discouraged by limited footage?” she says. “From the time I started out in Reshma Aur Shera with just a small role, I’ve always taken up the challenge of making space for myself — no matter how little screen time I have.”