All smiles at the breakfast table, the Ganguly family, Shobha, Ashok's wife, carrying Preeti, their youngest child, on her arm, pours tea for her star husband, while son Arup addresses himself to a banana. Eldest daughter Bharati sits next to Ashok, with Rupa, the second daughter (extreme left) completing the group.

Pictures accompanying this article – Pic 1 – Pic 2 – Pic 3 – Pic 4 – Pic 5 – Pic 6

Ashok Kumar House is situated in the heart of the business quarter of Bombay on the top storey of the building is the home of the star who gives it his name.

Guarding the last flight of stairs leading up to the star’s apartment are two Alsatians. They are friendly and, when the visitor goes past them, he enters a comfortable, un-conventional-looking home, which immedia­tely strikes him as a place which is lived in, rather than a show place meant to proclaim a star’s affluence or personality.

A passage, giving on to bedrooms on the right and on the left affording a glimpse of sea over roof-tops, leads into a large sitting-room-cum-dining-room.

Here, the walls are painted pale green and the curtains are of bright red material. Three alcoves in this room are hemmed in by divans.

Above each of the cozy alcoves are two yellow shaded bracket lamps which light up the shelves built into the wall as well as another shelf placed in the corner with models of rural life in Bengal. The draw‑ing-room gives on to a semi-circular balcony.

At the far end of the room is the dining- table. Above the mirrored mantelshelf is a stuffed panther. Its teeth bared in a snarl, it dominates the entire room.

In a little niche in the wall behind the dining-table stands a vase filled with fresh flowers. Beside it is a glass cabinet con­taining carved articles and an assortment of curios. On the dining-table also is a vase, an emerald-green one, with a potted plant in it. The chairs round the dining- table are done up in red leather.

The long, mirrored shelf along the wall and parallel to the dining-table has a row of little multi-colored lights at the top which twinkle, providing a pretty effect at night. At each end of the wide mirror is affixed a pale yellow shaded bracket lamp which sheds a soft glow on the flower vases and bronze statuettes on the shelf.

Of the two bedrooms adjoining the drawing-room, one is of Ashok’s daughters, the other ‘s son’s. Next to them is the nursery of the youngest, Preeti, who, Ashok says, “Never likes to get down to the floor. You have to carry her all the time!”

Of this part of the house Ashok says laughingly, “It looks more like ‘Star’s Children At Home’ rather than ‘Stars At Home’!”

But it is the terrace bedroom, which is also his den, that really reflects Ashok Kumar’s personality. Reached by a winding staircase, it is comfortable and secluded. Here the star can be far away from the outside world, linked to it only by the telephone.

Two Jamini Roy originals, one above the bookcase and the other above the bed decorate the walls. Dark green curtains conceal a door to an alcove which serves as the star’s wardrobe.

Dark shades of green, blue and red form the color scheme and the room opens on to the terrace, affording a sweeping view of the city’s landscape. Potted flower plants, some of them in bloom, lend an appropriate garden atmosphere.

“I sleep out here in the hot weather!” said Ashok.

A love of music distinguishes the members of Ashok’s household. His daughter is an accomplished pianist and accompanies the star when he sings. Ashok has had a great fondness for singing ever since his early acting days when he used to sing his own songs. He still sings at home either when friends gather or when he throws a party, which is often. His wife and other children also share this inter­est (Source – Filmfare Magazine 1955)

Tanuja

She is effervescent—like the fizz on her favourite drink, lemonade! Indeed, during the making of “Hamari Beti,” in which her- famous sister made her debut, the six-year-old Tanuja had only to be promised, a lemonade to make her say her lines.

When she is not bouncing around, laughing, or making others laugh, she is to be found with her feet in the north and her head down south. That is because she loves to read—anything I can lay my hands on; even scraps of paper from the roadside—and usually does so with her feet in the air.

She can never pass a bookstall without stopping to scan its contents. Given three rupees to go and see a picture, she will buy a book with the money. She has often thought how wonderful it would be to marry a great, big bookshop and, perhaps, accept the husband as dowry! (“She is daft,” smiles her mother Sho­bhana Samarth, indulgently).

Where her career is concerned, she is burn­ing with ambition, but not for the usual reasons. “Can you imagine,” she says, her eyes dancing with delight, “with all that money, what a huge library I can have!”

With this penchant for the written word, it is not surprising that Tanuja is an extremely well-informed young girl. Her general knowledge is astonishing and she can talk on-almost any subject.

But, this bookworm isn’t a plain body with spectacles perched on the end of her nose. She is pert, pretty and has a whistle-bait figure. She is crazy about ballet, but not stark crazy as with books.

Her mother speaks of her tomboy daughter with pride and affection. “Tanuja never tells lies. She abhors people who lie. Once, pointing to the living-room carpet, I said to a friend: ‘That cost Rs. 800.’ ‘Oh, Mummy,’ piped Tanuja, you know it only cost Rs. 775!’”

She is also the most generous person alive, says her mother. In Switzerland, where she goes to school, Tanuja once gave her last 100 francs to a needy British friend, in spite of her own foreign exchange difficulties. Tender‑hearted, she always treats, rarely gets treated.
She is not very thrifty, either. Once, asked to take the small car to fetch her birthday cake from downtown, she took the big car and returned triumphantly bearing the cake. When her mother reprimanded her for not being economical, she pouted, “So what, Mummy. Don’t we have enough?”

But she is also dreadfully independent and can take care of herself at all times. Once, visiting friends at Malabar Hill (the Samarth family then lived at Pedder Road), she found the car hadn’t come to fetch her. Beckoning her ayah, she walked home, tired but proud. She was then six years old.

Her family calls for “Granny”. She is very mature and discourses on fate, destiny, sex, politics, philosophy and life in general, as if she were sixty instead of sixteen.

She is often blunt to the point of rudeness and nothing her mother says can cure her of the habit of being too outspoken. Once, after a ballet performance, at her school in Switzerland, she turned to the founder of the school, who took her to be Italian, and said: “Madam, don’t insult me. I am Indian.” She is fiercely patriotic and will not stand for snobbishness or colour differentiation.

Tanuja speaks French and German fluently, has lots of European friends, but is homesick even before the plane reaches Switzerland. She adores Indian food. Thinks European food is horrible.

She is terribly, achingly proud of her sister, Nutan, whose exact opposite she is. When shown a picture of Nutan in a foreign magazine at school, she burst with pride, as she cried excitedly, “That’s my sister!” Later, she wrote: “Oh, Mummy, you don’t know how wonderful it feels to tell people about my sister.”

This five feet two inches of solid mischief, tempered with amazing good sense, is a great philosopher. “If a man cheats you, so what? He won’t have the opportunity to do it again,” she says. There isn’t a malicious bone in her body, say her sisters and friends. Always ready to acknowledge her mistakes, she, nevertheless, stands for her rights.

Although not a dedicated actress, she is sincere enough to work hard and-then criticize herself severely after the “rushes”. She is always busy reading on the sets and one gets the impression that she doesn’t know what’s hap­pening around her. But she does—and more. Not only does she know her own lines but also of the other players.

She isn’t—she can never be—camera-con­scious. But she has given an ultimatum to her mother: “If any director asks me to overact, I shall walk out.”

Blunt–but so refreshing, this new charm­er, Tanuja. (Source – Filmfare Magazine, February 26th, 1960)

Nadira has her morning tea in bed. Note the richly designed red coverlet and the matching colours of the tea-set. "I love to do things in style!" says the star, and everything in the bedroom is lavish.

Pictures accompanying this article – Pic 1 – Pic 2 – Pic 3 – Pic 4

The ebullient Nadira has her home in one of the smart set of apartments known as “Vasundhara,” standing in Warden Road, Bombay. She has given her flat shades of her own personality, for the colour scheme is a tasteful’ alternation of soft pastel shades and heavy colours—crimson, cobalt and green.

The contrast lends charm and an air of sophistication to the flat, while in no way depriving it of its homeliness.

Everything in Nadira’s home is in good taste—furniture, drapes, decorative pieces and books. The drawing-room is simple, but com­fortable and well-appointed. The walls are a pastel off-white. On them are placed several wrought-iron brackets, coloured black and bearing tiny earthen pots from which hang green tendrils and creepers. The thick carpet is deep crimson and covers most of the floor.

A corner of the drawing-room has been converted into a place for dining. The em­blem on the wall behind the dining-table is the Star of David. It has little glass cups which are filled with oil and lit on Jewish festival days.

On another wall, against which a low, broad divan is placed, hangs a large, gold- framed piece of parchment, on which are inscribed texts from the Jewish Scriptures. It is the “Minorah.”

Blue brocade curtains with floral motifs hang over the windows and doors of the drawing-room, which opens on to a balcony. In another corner of the room is a radio­gram and on its top is a quaint little doll dressed in blue to match the drapes.

Beside the divan is a glass-paned cabinet containing a large, assorted collection of china and crockery. Here are tea-sets, vases and tumblers of all kinds and designs.

From the drawing-room a corridor leads to the star’s bedroom.

Nadira likes to do things in style and here everything is plush, flamboyant and lavish. “I like my bedroom to look like a movie set,” she laughs. The drapes over the doors and window are alternately hangings of bright crimson and of white lace. A standard lamp with corn-coloured shade is placed at the side of the bed.            The coverlets are of scarlet and gold design. A dressing-table with three mirrors, a broad bookcase with white panels and a white-panelled wardrobe are other pieces of furniture. A deep crim­son carpet covers the floor.

At one end of the bookcase stands a large portrait of the star. At the other end is the picture of a friend. Between the two is an ivory-white statuette of the Buddha sitting in contemplation.

From the bed, the first thing which catches the eye is a large oil painting hung above the bookcase. It is a copy of a master­piece by a Flemish painter of the fifteenth century…  [missing]

Note:- Reproduced from old Filmfare Magazine for the sake of Nostalgia. Rest of the article is missing.