Sajid, 42, and Wajid, 40, are real brothers who are not just bonded through their music, but also through values instilled by their father. While Wajid composes, Sajid  arranges, melody being key to both. They are both protective about each other and while Sajid is most attached to Wajid, Wajid’s soft corner is clearly his mother. While they won their first Filmfare award for their music in Dabangg, Deewana and Partner too remain their favourite albums. Even though their music of Jai Ho is still to release, their song Saamne Hai Savera from Bullett Raja is already a hit. Over an hour-long conversation with TOI they speak about their father’s khuddari, Sonu Nigam’s hoshiyari and Salman Khan’s dildari. Excerpts: 

You come from a musical family. Let’s talk about your childhood? Sajid: While we were both born and brought up in Mumbai, our grandfather Ustad Abdul Latif Khan sahab was a musician from Peshawar, Pakistan, who moved to Saharanpur post partition as my grandmother was from India. Our father Sharafat Ali Khan, from a very early age, played the dholak and by the age of 10, he became famous as the leading dholak player in Western UP belt and decided to move to Mumbai. He was picked up by top music directors and travelled the world, performing shows with Ashaji and many other leading artistes. Our nana Padma Shri Fayaz Ali Khan sahab from Kirana gharana was a big man, who at that time owned a flat in Mumbai and taught music to half the industry. He heard my father perform and decided to get his daughter married to him. From a young age, I learnt the tabla and Wajid, the guitar, and as children we would sit with my nana and play with big artistes without realising that. Even though our father was uneducated, he was a thorough musician and knew how to impart musical education to us. He did that throughout his life till four months back, when he passed away at just 63, due to a second bypass surgery that he could not survive.

Let’s talk about your father? Sajid: My father being a top musician never had time, as he always had so much work. While usually kids go to class to learn music, we got everything on a platter and learnt informally and unknowingly, a lot. We were never tied up to music and were introduced to music, ranging from Michael Jackson’s Thriller to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan sahab’s music. He would say, ‘You should be a versatile artiste, whether you are a singer, musician or a music director. He was a believer in melody and would always say that in a song the ‘aha’ comes only if it has melody. And he instilled the importance of melody in our minds. Papa wanted us to always be perfect. He would demoralise us even when we would make great songs and say, ‘halka hai’. Wajid would often stay up all night practising and perfecting himself, always thinking why his father said ‘halka hai’. When we were young and if we were wrong, he would never hit us. Even if he hit us, he would hit us very reluctantly thinking that we shouldn’t get hurt. But if I was down, and if I cried, that is the time he would slap me really hard and say, ‘Mard bache rote nahi.’ He wanted us to be men. For him, being a man was loving your people, being responsible and always giving. He was a liberal man, who just wanted us to be independent and not be dependent on anybody. He would always encourage us to share our knowledge and would say, ‘Allah gives only a few people the luck to be responsible and look after others. He gives courage to people who have the heart.’ In our hearts, we know today that we are responsible. He was our father, but also our friend. Before dying, he hugged us and said, ‘In this world there is no bigger wealth than brothers staying together and being together. There is nothing greater than blood.’ We both bought our flats due to his confidence that he would stay with the both of us, but he died before that. Today, nobody in the world can control me, except for my father, and I miss his domination. I get scared now that I don’t feel scared of anybody. I never used to show him that I was scared of him but now that he is not there, I feel scared that he is not there to control me.

Did he play with you as a musician in your shows? Sajid: He was very khuddar. Even when we became Sajid-Wajid, he would insist on going for shows with us only as a musician and not as our father. I would feel shy of him performing with us and felt that he being our father should accompany us as our father and not as a musician. He got annoyed and said, ‘Partner, you better give my payment and take me as a musician.’ He would want us to deduct money for my mother’s ticket if she accompanied us as according to him she was his wife and his responsibility. He would never come as our father and never wanted any money from us.

Both of you are quite different. Do you fight? Wajid: Sajid bhai, being the oldest, was allowed more liberties and was my father’s favourite child. He is very impulsive and can be easily misunderstood as many a time he will not think before speaking, is happy-go-lucky and a lovely human being. I am usually calm and try and listen before I judge people. As a brother, I know him well and understand him, but knowing his nature I have to take more responsibility and know that there are ways in which you can speak the truth. How you put it across makes a difference.

Sajid: We do fight a lot, but in today’s world, you don’t get brothers like Wajid. God has stopped making them. He is extremely respectful and I love him the most in the world.

Wajid: There came a time when I would get irritated with Sajid bhai. Salman bhai sensed that and I told him, ‘I don’t like when people misunderstand Sajid bhai.’ Salman bhai said, ‘If you want to be happy, leave him alone.’ From then on I have groomed myself to let go.

How did you meet Salman Khan? Sajid: I would get chucked out of the house by my father often. I was in college when on one such occasion, he again told me to leave the house as I had had an argument with him at the time of riyaz in the morning. I went to a pool place in the afternoon where I found myself to be all alone. I was very upset wondering why my father did that to me even though I tried as much as I could to listen to him. Suddenly, I saw Salman bhai walking in and there was just the both of us. Even though he did not know me and I was a stranger to him, we ate lunch together. That was his greatness as only he can do that with a stranger. We formed a friendship that was God send. After so many years of knowing him, I can say that ‘Zingadi mein koi toh hai jisko main apna bada bhai bol sakta hoon.’

How did you get your first break in Pyaar Kiya Toh Darna Kya? Sajid: Sohail bhai gave us our first break. Sohail bhai used to play pool and we were in the same group and became friends. At that time, we were struggling music directors. The next day I would call him as a struggler and seek time as a music director without telling him that we played pool the night before. This would continue for some time where at night we would play pool together and the next morning again, I would call him asking for time as a struggler and he would make excuses till one day he gave into my perseverance and called us. He laughed when he saw me and of course gave us our first film to compose music for.

Salman has had a big role to play in your life. What is he like? Sajid: He is like any elder brother you look up to. After God Almighty and our parents, it is Salman bhai for us and we have learnt a lot from him. His standards for music are very high and he pushes you to do your best. Many of our songs have become hits due to his suggestions. Salman bhai is very giving and has the power of forgiving.

He can shock you with the range of songs he likes and he will always go with the best song for the situation as his understanding of scripts is very deep. Once you are associated with him, he is protective about you. He is possessive about people he loves, as he is about his brothers. The special thing about him is that he is not possessive about your freedom.

Who is your favourite singer? Wajid: Sonu Nigam. More than a singer, I love him like a brother and respect him. He is somebody who you can count on in difficult times. He is very musical and knowledgeable and is both a teacher and a student. He is open to a lot of discussion as far as music is concerned and never ceases to surprise you as a singer.

source: http://www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> Entertainment> Musice> News and Interviews / by Priya Gupta, TNN / Wednesday – November 27th, 2013

Actor Imran Khan remembers growing up in Bangalore, reveals where his comic timing comes from and tells us what traits he shares with uncle Aamir Khan

Everyone sees a little bit of Aamir Khan in him. He has played young Aamir in his films. While Imran Khan is remembered for his deadpan sense of humour in Delhi Belly, he has also played the Casanova in I Hate Luv Storys. He partners with the same producer-director team of Karan Johar and Punit Malhotra in Gori Tere Pyaar Mein, playing a south Indian. In Bangalore recently for the promos, he talks of how he enjoyed time in a city he’s familiar with. Excerpts.

Where does your sense of comic timing come from?

I actually grew up watching old British comedy. My dad is a huge fan of it…so I grew up watching Monty Python kind of things. My taste is a result of that. I used to read, and still read, a lot of P.G. Wodehouse so all of this moved my sensibilities and tastes towards slightly dry deadpan British humour.

How often do you get to use it in films you do?

Infrequently. Something more broad-stroke and louder, generally, is what is expected. Because that is generally our cinematic language. It’s a bit of an adaptation…

How similar are you to your mamu Aamir Khan?

I wonder, truth be old. I think there are a lot of similarities. I think we both are very stubborn people. Both of us are extremely particular about doing things in a certain way. I think I’m more easy going than he is in a lot of ways.

And what’s with the dramatic punk haircut?

I was bored last night. I had nothing to do. I don’t have any shooting commitments right now. My hairstylist who’s a very close friend of mine, was over for dinner. I was like ‘Listen let’s do something fun’. She was like ‘How fun?’ I said ‘Go wild’. Yeah so I have a mohawk now …

You play a south Indian in Gori… and you’ve covered most stereotypes…the veshti-mundu, wearing vibhuti, …what else? Eating noodles with curd too?

No, we haven’t done that. Sriram (his character in Gori…), although he’s technically south Indian, he doesn’t really fit in. He’s grown up abroad. He’s considered the black sheep of his family because he has a kind of aversion to his own culture.

Did you do any “research” for this film?

Actually none. I grew up in Bangalore. It was a nicer time then. Bangalore was where I had my first girlfriend and my first breakup. I did my schooling here, a part of it, at the Valley School between 1998 to 2000. It’s actually sweet. We started filming in Bangalore and we finish the last day of film promotions in Bangalore. We’ve come full circle.

Where did you shoot in Bangalore? Did you get time to revisit old favourites?

While shooting, I took the cast to my favourite joints. I used to hang out in Nagarjuna on Brigade Road… When we landed here, that was my first priority. I wanted to take them all there. First day we went there, everyone lost their mind, and thereafter we were there at least twice a week. They have two levels in the restaurant, and upper level was unofficially reserved for Dharma Productions. We shot outside Bangalore, at Tamarind Tree, then we shot our club song ‘Dhat teriki’ in Skyye Lounge Bar in U.B.City, Hardrock Café, a bowling alley called Blu-O in Orion Mall, and lot of stuff on the streets. Then I took them to Corner House. Death by Chocolate gets a lot of press, it has a great PR agency, but their Cake Fudge is actually better.

Are the kind of roles coming your way what you really want to do?

I’m getting to do very interesting stuff. Perhaps not the kind of stuff exactly suited to me but stuff you would not really see me in. Films like Matru Ki Bijleee Ka Mandola and Once Upon Ay Time in Mumbai Dobaara! — these are roles that you would not think of casting me in.

Your next project?

Next, I’m doing Bhavesh Joshi directed by Vikramaditya Motwane…and that’s it for the year. I like to work at a more leisurely pace. . It takes a bit of time for me to get into and get out of a film. This year I’ve gone from Matru…, to Once Upon…, into Gori… and turned into a cake fudge. I’m actually on a strict diet. I’m doing a body transformation programme. I have a very cruel trainer…. You should see it under here (he motions towards his jacket with a straight face). It’s all sexiness.

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Features> Cinema Plus / by Bhumika K / November 25th, 2013

We Muslims eat biryani,” says stand-up comedian Azeem Bantwalla. “Then because we feel bad that we have killed a goat, we don’t eat for one month. Then again we eat biriyani.”

Azeem (24) is performing at the ‘Pant on Fire’ stand-up comedy show at the JT Performing Arts Centre in Kochi. Comedian Sourabh Pant introduces Azeem, who is off-stage, saying, “Azeem is a Muslim with a sense of humour. That’s an oxymoron. It’s like a Congress politician who says, ‘cheque payments.’”

And in walks a tall (6’3”) and gangly person, wearing spectacles and looking more like an eager college student rather than a comedian. And he swings the bat straightaway: “When Iran sent a rocket into space, they also sent a monkey along with it. We Indians would never do that. We know that a flying monkey is useful only if your wife is stuck in Sri Lanka,” he quips.

As the crowd bursts into laughter, Azeem gets into the groove easily. But there is a small gasp when Azeem ventures into territory, which would have been considered forbidden because of its sensitivity. “As a Muslim, all you do on Eid is to eat biryani,” he says. “Honestly, I don’t even know why we call it Eid. We should just call it ‘lunch’!”

Off-stage, a more relaxed Azeem says, “In India, talking about Muslims and Islam are sensitive topics. But being a Muslim, I feel that I have a license to do so. If not me, then who else would?”

Of course, Azeem is careful about the way he tells his jokes. “I don’t want to offend anybody,” he says. “Basically, I am analysing the idiosyncrasies of the religion. Poking fun is one thing, and being insulting another. And that is not my aim,” he clarifies.

He remembers how once during a show in Mumbai, he noticed a bearded Muslim wearing a skull cap and his burqa-clad wife sitting in the front row. “They laughed the most at the Muslim jokes,” says Azeem. “In fact, they were enjoying the show as much as the rest of the audience.”

Interestingly, Azeem, a Gujarati, who was born and brought up in Mumbai, stumbled into his passion in quite a convoluted way. He graduated in engineering from the Rajiv Gandhi Institute of Technology in 2010. At that time, because of recession, he could not get a job. “I sat at home and did nothing for six months,” he says.

It was during this period that Azeem got an opportunity to write humour for a show on UTV Bindaas. Later, he secured an opening as a writer for a Delhi-based magazine. In September 2011, he did an interview with one of India’s top comedians Vir Das. “It was while talking to him that I got interested in stand-up comedy,” says Azeem.

That very month, he got an opportunity to perform at The Comedy Store in Mumbai. The joke which got an enthusiastic response went like this: “Facebook is a lot like Delhi. You can poke all the women you want and get away with it.”

And when the crowd laughed and applauded, it was a giddy experience for Azeem. “There is no preparing you for the rush of energy that comes from the audience,” he says. “Your adrenalin starts pumping. It is like doing bungee jumping.”

A hooked Azeem has now performed in Pune, Bangalore, Kochi, and Baroda, apart from doing several shows in Mumbai. He is a rising star in an art form which is rapidly gaining popularity across India.

source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express > Magazine / The New Sunday Express / Home> Magazine / by Shevlin Sebastian / November 24th, 2013