Latest news with #Shantha


Indian Express
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
Love in the time of Gabbar: A real-life romance born on Sholay set; neither Dharmendra-Hema Malini, nor Amitabh Bachchan-Jaya Bahaduri
Whenever we speak of Sholay, the conversations usually orbit around the cinematic grandeur of Ramesh Sippy's vision, the sheer grit it took to bring the film to life, or the now-legendary fact that it was declared a flop in its first three days before becoming one of Indian cinema's greatest blockbusters. We recall the wit of Salim–Javed, who predicted the film's longevity with uncanny accuracy. We retell the on-set gossip — Sanjeev Kumar's heartbreak over losing Hema Malini to Dharmendra, Dharmendra and Hema's blooming romance, and the quiet love between Amitabh Bachchan and Jaya Bhaduri. But tucked away in the dusty lanes of Ramanagara — the rocky hamlet transformed into the fictional Ramgarh — lies another love story. One that never made it to the silver screen, yet bloomed right alongside the making of this cinematic giant. Ramanagara itself has a history. Before it became synonymous with Sholay, it had been renamed several times, carrying with it the memories of changing rulers and eras. When the film crew from Mumbai arrived in the early 1970s, they travelled in bullock carts, surveying the land for the perfect setting. Over the next two years, they built not just sets but a world — one where villagers and film folk mingled, where Bollywood's magic seeped into everyday life. And in that mingling, two lives quietly intertwined. Shankar Gowda, a young man from Karnataka's Humnabad, was part of the Sholay crew. His responsibility was to manage the set and the resources that kept the sprawling production alive. Shantha Gowda was a local schoolgirl, curious about the constant bustle, the strangers from Mumbai, and the magic of a film shoot. She would come by to watch, never imagining that these visits would change the course of her life. ALSO READ | Sholay actor's father was killed in the World War 2, she walked 900 kms to escape same fate; mother had a miscarriage and brother died of smallpox Shankar noticed her. Conversations began and affection followed. Soon, they both knew they wanted to marry — but like in Sholay, where Veeru couldn't win Basanti without Mausi's blessing, Shankar couldn't take Shantha's hand without her mother's consent. 'I was studying at that time when I met Shankar. We developed feelings for each other. He proposed to me, but how could we take any decision without the permission of our parents? So I told Shankar to come home and speak to my mother. And he did.' One day, Shankar arrived at Shantha's home with a couple of his friends from the crew. Polite, respectful, and earnest, he asked her mother for her hand. Like any traditional matriarch (or Sholay's Mausi), she had questions — about his family, his background, job stability. Learning that he too was from Karnataka and held steady work, she agreed. And so, in a poetic twist of fate, they built a mandapa for their wedding right there — on the Sholay set. In the shadow of the rocky hills and in the presence of villagers and crew, Shankar and Shantha tied the knot. 'Our marriage was more like love-cum-arranged marriage. I completed my SSLC (10th grade). I must have been 16 when I got married. Shankar was 20 at that time. Even after our marriage, we stayed in Ramanagara for 2 years. Later, due to his work in the film line, we moved to Mumbai and now it has been over 40 years since we have been living here,' recalled Shantha. Over the decades, the couple's love weathered everything life threw at them. They raised five children — three daughters and two sons — all of whom are now married, giving them a bustling family of over 20, with grandchildren in school. 'They are all married today. I even have grandchildren now. We are now a family of over 20 people. My grandsons are in 12th and 8th grade', she exclaimed. ALSO READ | 50 years of Sholay: Mausi, Radha, Basanti and the stalled progress of the Hindi film heroine But their journey wasn't without hardship. Years ago, Shankar suffered paralysis, forcing him to leave work. 'It was a hard time,' Shantha admits. 'But with medication, he slowly began to walk again. Today, we are just grateful to see him up and moving. We're old now… life has slowed, but we are together.' Every year, they return to Ramanagara with the entire family, staying at Shantha's late mother's home. 'My mother is gone, but her house still stands. We go, we stay, we remember.' As we spoke, we asked her if she has photographs from the wedding — the moment when two real lives merged on a fictional set. She sighed. 'We had them… but they were at my mother's house, and over time, they were lost or misplaced. I do have a picture of Shankar from his Sholay days, though. The wedding pictures… maybe they're still somewhere in Ramanagara.' Some love stories are captured in frames. Others live in memory. While Sholay gave us Jai, Veeru, Basanti, and Gabbar… in the hills of Ramanagara, it also gave us Shankar and Shantha.


New Indian Express
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- New Indian Express
Cinema Without Borders: To father, with love—The Gas Station Attendant
Parallel to it runs Karla's own story as a daughter of an Indian father and Filipino mother, who also left home at 18 to head to New York to take her own shot at life. As she herself puts it, moving away from home has been in her DNA. Married and raising two all-American boys of her own—who are the same age as her father when he ran away from home—she has her own battles about being and belonging to contend with. Where is she from and where is she going? Like father, like daughter. Shantha is at the core of the film and so is his relationship with Karla, at times to the exclusion of the rest. One would have liked to see more of his two Filipino wives and the other children as well as Karla's own husband and kids but they seem to remain in the background, in a haze. Karla refers to her Indo-Filipino family, as big and complicated, but the complexities don't get elaborated on. Only an odd line sticks out: 'Family stories aren't fairytales'. Purely as a documentary about family, it may not have the layers of Sarah Polley's Stories We Tell but it makes up for it with its straightforward honesty and emotional acuity. It is, after all, about a daughter trying to understand her father who wasn't quite a winner in life. If there is one consistent note in Shantha's life, it is troubles and struggles; trying to work on several fronts—from jewellery store to gas station to restaurant to travel agency—without much success. Like countless migrants he is a quintessential survivor, carrying on with positivity despite the overarching strife. The underlying ethnic violence is implicit in Karla's concern for Shantha working the nights at a gas station, where migrants have had a history of being easy targets and scapegoats. Her dad's life has been about running and running. Where did it lead him? It's the question topmost in her mind, now that he is no more. Karla's is a compassionate, caring and intimate look back at him, in which Shantha comes across as an extremely affectionate, warm, understanding and loving father. An admirable man that few in the wide world would have known but for his daughter's film on him.


The Hindu
11-05-2025
- Sport
- The Hindu
'We still have to fight' - Shantha Rangaswamy, Mithali Raj and Shreyanka Patil on women's cricket at The Hindu Huddle
Stars from three generations — Shantha Rangaswamy, Mithali Raj, and Shreyanka Patil — engaged in a lively discussion at The Hindu Huddle on Friday on the growth of women's cricket in India. Shantha, the first Indian women's team captain, spoke about her pioneering role. 'We laid the foundation. We may not have seen the likes of Mithali and Shreyanka if we had faltered in the initial stages. What drove us was the passion for the game,' Shantha said in a session titled 'No Boundaries: Growth of Women's Cricket in India', moderated by K.C. Vijaya Kumar, Sports Editor, The Hindu. In a glittering international career, which spanned over two decades, Mithali moved the needle in terms of popularising women's cricket. Mithali said the turning point for the sport came in 2006, when the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) took control of women's cricket. 'In my early days, when the Women's Cricket Association of India (WCAI) ran the sport, the financial aspect was not great. It was a struggle to get investors and endorsements for us to have an international series. Coming under the BCCI was huge, because that opened access to better infrastructure, resources, equipment, and domestic structure,' Mithali said. Coming under the BCCI umbrella gave Mithali and others access to top-class facilities like the National Cricket Academy in Bengaluru. At the NCA, interactions between women cricketers and stalwarts like Sachin Tendulkar and Rahul Dravid proved to be invaluable. 'When you have a dialogue with the likes of Sachin and Dravid, you learn a lot,' Mithali said.


The Hindu
09-05-2025
- Sport
- The Hindu
From corridor of uncertainty to stability: tracing the growth of women's cricket in India
Stars from three generations — Shantha Rangaswamy, Mithali Raj, and Shreyanka Patil — engaged in a lively discussion at The Hindu Huddle on Friday on the growth of women's cricket in India. Shantha, the first Indian women's team captain, spoke about her pioneering role. 'We laid the foundation. We may not have seen the likes of Mithali and Shreyanka if we had faltered in the initial stages. What drove us was the passion for the game,' Shantha said in a session titled 'No Boundaries: Growth of Women's Cricket in India', moderated by K.C. Vijaya Kumar, Sports Editor, The Hindu. In a glittering international career, which spanned over two decades, Mithali moved the needle in terms of popularising women's cricket. Mithali said the turning point for the sport came in 2006, when the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) took control of women's cricket. 'In my early days, when the Women's Cricket Association of India (WCAI) ran the sport, the financial aspect was not great. It was a struggle to get investors and endorsements for us to have an international series. Coming under the BCCI was huge, because that opened access to better infrastructure, resources, equipment, and domestic structure,' Mithali said. Coming under the BCCI umbrella gave Mithali and others access to top-class facilities like the National Cricket Academy in Bengaluru. At the NCA, interactions between women cricketers and stalwarts like Sachin Tendulkar and Rahul Dravid proved to be invaluable. 'When you have a dialogue with the likes of Sachin and Dravid, you learn a lot,' Mithali said. The 42-year-old recalled a time when she sought the help of Tendulkar. 'When I was a bit older, I had trouble picking fast bowlers. I asked Tendulkar for advice, and he told me to practice on 18-yard pitches instead of 22-yard strips. This helped me a great deal, as I went on to win the T20 'Player of the series' award in South Africa,' Mithali said. Shreyanka, the modern-day star, paid tribute to her predecessors. 'Shantha madam laid the foundation. They had to face challenges initially because not all families allowed girls to play. And then came Mithali. People talked about Rahul Dravid and Sachin Tendulkar as the big names. But in women's cricket, Mithali was the biggest name for us. Our generation cannot thank our seniors enough for what they have done for women's cricket. We are now in a stage where we get everything — infrastructure, facilities, exposure and much more,' Shreyanka said. The Hindu Huddle 2025 is presented by Sami-Sabinsa Group Co-powered by: Government of Karnataka, Government of Telangana; Associate Partners: ONGC, Presidency University, TAFE, Akshayakalpa Organic; Energy Partner : Indian Oil Corporation Limited; Realty partner: Casagrand; Knowledge partner: Amrita Vishwa Vidyapeetham; State partner: Meghalaya tourism and Haryana government; Luxury car partner: Toyota; Radio partner: Radio City; Gift partner: Anand Prakash; Broadcast partner: Times Now; Outdoor media partner: Signpost India