TRIBUTE TO A DACOIT –SAMBA THE SNIPER

By Manas Paul

He was the best ‘sniper’ that the typical Indian film could ever think of---a sniper with an ever silent rifle. He did neither believe in blazing guns nor did he appear trigger happy like others of his ilk. He never shot. He was simply different. Throughout the film he sat quietly on top of a rocky dusty hillock holding an ancient .303 rifle across his lap for years guarding his Sardar who was constantly engaged in violent dramatics –laughing and killing in same breath or in leisurely time chewing Khaini or baring his dirty leering teeth. His loyalty to his Sardar was so religious that his menacing presence was enough. In fact, none in Rampur or in the cinema hall needed to tell that the silent and bearded dacoit up the rocky hills sitting alone was a sure shot and could pick up anyone who would try to act funny or simply disagree with the Sardar.
But Samba did not fight, he did not argue, he did not ride horse and did not show any violence at all. Yet without Samba, you just cannot think of Sholay. Without Samba Gabbar Singh was insecure-almost naked.
The Sardar, who preferred to shout his cohorts’ guts out, also apparently ‘loved’ Samba because time and again he was heard screaming—evidently to reassure his own unquestioned leadership—‘Arre o Samba…’
I like many of my age grew up with Sholay and its Amjad Khan-the Gabbar Singh, watching this movie umpteen times. Like millions of Indians I still remember all those Gabbar dialogues, desperate Dharmendra antiques to impress irritatingly talkative Hema Mailini, cool Amitabha trying to feel the almost supernatural existence of a white clad young widow, calculating Thakur personified by Sanjeev Kumar and his simple village valet Satyen Kappu, British jamane ki stupid jailor Asrani with a Hitler’s moustache, funny Surma Jagdeep Bhopali with his cock and bull stories, wise and heavenly Imam AK Hangal, even barber-the-jail bird Keshto.... All the characters acted out their parts so beautifully with so perfect unison that Sholay became the first Indian movie which was in all sense ‘total’ and till date the most popular in the entire sub-continent. Many cynic may find some of the shots true to Bollywood tradition were copied from Charles Bronson’s Red Sun or even How the West was Won...but there would be no doubt that Amjad Khan or in other words ‘Gabbar Singh-the-dacoit Sardar’ was ‘superb’-the ‘best’ in performance among a huge array of superstars. Then if Amjad Khan became world famous for his immortal performance as Gabbar Singh, it was also the man, who christened with an Irish sounding name Macmohan, became known with an unlikely Brazilian dance title ‘Samba’ across the country as the film Sholay kept on enthralling three generation in a row.
But what I actually found amazing was that it was Samba who made a world record: without any acting or performing any feat at all –only sitting silent with his rifle and an unassuming smile and a single dialogue- he could also become such a popular name.
Throughout his ‘career’ as ‘Baagi’ in the treacherous world of Chambal with a frightened Rampur in the periphery reeling under the ever present shadow of scary Gabbar, he spoke only once— ‘Poora Pachaash Hazaar, Sardar’.
And it was an instant hit.
It was perhaps the second best known dialogue of the film after Biju Khote-the- Kalia’s ‘ Hamne apka nimak khaya hai Sardar’.
Who should be given the credit...Sippy saab or Samba a ka Macmohan himself or the script writer Javed Akhtar?
We have already lost the great villains of our Indian films- K N Singh, Premnath, Ajit, Amjad Khan, Madan Puri, Omshib Puri, Amrish Puri et al. Recently, when Macmohan died we have also lost a quintessential silent sidearm of a filmy villain.
Of course, there were many henchmen besides their villainous Bosses, say for example, suave and well dressed Ajit-the-Leon (Lion) had all along with him his sidekicks ‘Micaaal’ and Mona Darrrrling. But can you really remember their faces? I doubt.
But when they said Macmohan has left us on May 10 last, we immediately recognized the face in the rocky upland—typical dacoit attire with bullet belts across his chest. And do not you feel that his was an uncommon face?
Macmohan seemed to me consciously sported beard to hide his sunken cheek and he dared to appear in all the films without any change. After Sholay I have of course come across Macmohan in some more films...mostly perfectly dressed, often with sunglasses but his role was still not very important as an actor besides the raging villains. Starting from Haqeeqat in 1964 he acted in almost 180 films. But Samba kept on shadowing him. In most of the films he seldom spoke, barring perhaps Karz where he was with Premnath. Despite his long career as a baddie he could never become an underworld Don.
Once, however, I saw him as a reporter attired in stereotype pyjama and punjabi with jhola for a brief appearance. I cannot remember the film but in one I have seen the ‘bad guy’ in a virtuous police officer’s dress also. The last film I saw Macmohan in was a recent comedy where Raju Srivastava, Sunil Paul, Asrani –all were there. The name of the film sounded like something ‘Bombay to Goa’. In this film I saw Samba had become old with greying beard and too many wrinkles in his face. In fact by then he was suffering from lung cancer.
The expression in Macmohan’s face always appeared to me as bored by the pathos of life and thus exuding an air of philosophical understanding. The face never betrayed any overt emotion, perhaps, except an ever present twinkle in his eyes... as if they found something indeed amusing also in the world.
I often wonder Samba might have also felt that his Sardar Gabbar Singh was eccentric full of all sounds and furies but destined to be mauled by a handless Thakur. He maintained a respectable distance from his Sardar. Perhaps the illiterate Baagi in the Chambals knew by experience the management mantra of the present day corporate world – always keep distance from the Boss or you would invite trouble. So he spent his hours up in the rocks –perhaps in a strategic corner far from the reach of hot headed Gabbar’s country-made revolver. Samba was a wise guy. Cool, calm, menacing who did not act, who did not perform but also he did not let you forget him. He was there all the time and, believe me, Samba will remain there as long as great old Bollywood keep on producing movies throwing up stars who burn bright for a while and then go to oblivion for ever. Even if ‘Macmohan’ is not remembered Samba will certainly be .