WITH IT AND WITHOUT: Rajinikanth as he is; (below) the superstar cuts a dashing figure in Robot

Rajinikanth is comfortably seated in his den on a large white sofa. India’s most commercially successful hero of 2010 is in all black, looking visibly relaxed. It’s the Rajini I know — we’d struck a comfort level years ago when the Tamil screen actor used to frequent Mumbai for his Hindi films. But for the last many years the superstar has been out of bounds.

“Come on, I say,” Rajinikanth replies, when I ask him if his demi-god status in the south has made him as inaccessible as God himself. “It is the same Rajini,” he adds reassuringly. “Nothing has changed.”

That he’s a phenomenon has been said over and over again. But just consider this. In the Hindi film industry, most films factor in a budget of Rs 7-8 crore for promotion. The Rs 140-crore Robot (Endhiran in Tamil) — Rajinikanth’s latest blockbuster — spent only Rs 1 crore for its publicity campaign. Its producers didn’t need aggressive promotion — they had the man to draw the audience in.

The audience not only came in, they even treated the arrival of the film like a religious festival, bathing Rajinikanth’s cut-out with milk. The film made the box office come alive with joy, registering business beyond expectations.

And without a single interview from Rajinikanth.

It was courtesy actor Shatrughan Sinha that the gates of Rajinikanth’s Poes Garden bungalow in Chennai swung open uncharacteristically to admit a journalist. The celebrity from Bihar requested the southern star to talk to me about their friendship for a biography of Shatrughan. Rajini obliged and I went in — to emerge two hours later with not only inputs for my book but also an exclusive with Rajinikanth.

It wasn’t as if he was miffed with the media. “Since I’m not giving interviews, everybody wants an exclusive. If I give one person, the others will feel bad. So it’s better to say ‘no’ to everybody,” he explains, speaking largely in English with a bit of Hindi and Tamil thrown in.

He doesn’t play favourites but once he’s decided to do this interview, it’s like a replay of the good old times — he laughs easily, speaks sincerely, doesn’t backtrack even on statements made decades ago and is game to face any question.

He’d once said — I point out to him — that if he hadn’t become an actor he’d have been a smuggler because he wanted to make money. “Yes, that is correct, an underworld don,” he agrees at once. “But that phase is over, I’ve made enough money!”

And Robot clearly has added to his coffers, though the highest paid star in the country didn’t take a rupee during the making of the film. “I told them, you give it to me later. Later, of course, I took,” he says, laughing heartily. He took plenty, by way of a share in the profits, romping home with his tijori full.

Not that he’d taken awesome success for granted. “I was naturally very tense. It was the first time that so much money was being invested in a regional language film. It’s not a joke. Hats off to (producer) Kalanithi Maran’s guts. He believed that these people wouldn’t make a mistake. It was a big responsibility. It worked by God’s grace.”

Rajinikanth went into Robot simply on the trust he placed in director Shankar, who’d directed him in his last bumper outing, Shivaji. And it was the unprecedented success of Shivaji that reinforced his belief that they could pull off an even bigger gamble with Robot.

“I did the film only because I know Shankar and know his capabilities. If anybody else had come to me offering a Rs 200-crore film, I wouldn’t have touched it. Even if Hollywood had come to me with the offer, I wouldn’t have accepted it. But after working with Shankar on Shivaji, I knew he was fantastic,” says the actor.

Yet Rajinikanth was not Shankar’s first choice for Robot. He signed up knowing that the project had started 10 years ago with actor Kamal Haasan. “They’d even done a puja with Preity Zinta and others. Then it went to Shah Rukh Khan,” he merrily narrates. “There was some problem with the budget and it didn’t work out.”

The budget fell into place after Rajini’s Shivaji did stunning business. But the ego didn’t kick in to prevent him from doing a film that had gone around for a while before reaching him. “Daane daane pe likha hota hai khaanewale ka naam (every grain you eat is pre-destined),” he says cheerfully.

With Shivaji, for the first time a regional film had an investment of Rs 75-80 crore and raked in Rs 110-120 crore. “That was encouraging and broadened the market.”

I ask about rumours that Rajini — who bid goodbye to Hindi cinema years ago — has been approached by Yashraj to be a part of Dhoom: 3. “These are just rumours. No, I’ve not even been approached,” he replies.

So, what’s next?

“An animation film called Hara,” he says. Of course, Rajini plays the title role of Hara. “Hara will be part animation, part live, like Avatar. But a straight out-and-out Rajinikanth film has not been decided yet.”

And he’s in no hurry to get into one.

“After Hara I will need a six-month break,” he says. “If I get a good character, a suitable role, a good producer-director, only then will I do a film. Otherwise, bahut ho gaya. I’m 61 years old, yaar.”

Rajini, whose birthday was last Sunday, is fit, slim and full of energy. In Robot he did everything, even romanced a young girl. But, he admits with candour that there are times when he feels his age. “Sometimes when I do action scenes or when I dance, I feel it. Age is age. But technicians, directors, they know and they manage. When doing a romantic scene now, you feel awkward. Even if you say it’s just acting, you do feel a little embarrassed.”

In Mumbai, a much older Amitabh Bachchan is still going strong. At the very mention of his name, Rajini goes from demi-god to fawning fan in a second. “Amitji is my inspiration. Actually Dilipji (Dilip Kumar) is the centre for all of us. Amitji, me, Shah Rukh, Aamir, for all of us Dilipji has been the inspiration.” But he was lucky, he adds, that he could interact closely with Bachchan. “How many will get an opportunity like that? We did three films, all super-duper hits. Andhaa Kanoon, Giraftaar and Hum, all hits.”

So why did he turn his back on Hindi films?

“I have cut down a lot on my work,” he explains. “In the south itself I do hardly one film in two years. To ride two horses at the same time is difficult. The way of working (in the two industries) is different. I’ve done enough work. I did 25-27 Hindi films and was there for almost 10 years. I enjoyed it.”

Back in Chennai, his superstardom has made him somewhat of a recluse. But from behind the gates of his bungalow, Rajinikanth knows the effect he has on his audience. And yes, he’s read all those innumerable Rajinikanth jokes too. “They’re only jokes, yaar,” he laughs and toasts the brains that come up with the wacky one-liners. “I laugh at their imagination, how can they imagine all this? The youngsters are brilliant, very sharp.”

How do his fans take it when they see him in public — with receding hair, no wig, and no dye? They don’t care, he says. “It is important to them how you look on celluloid; they’re paying for that. There they feel: my hero should look like a hero. On celluloid if you come like that they will hate it. Outside it doesn’t matter. People are intelligent, they know everything. So why unnecessarily give yourself discomfort?”

Years ago, he said that he would relax by sitting in front of the mirror with the lights switched off. “Yes, a candle, mirror and music! That is correct. It’s that way even now. After 9 ’clock I don’t meet people.”

Rajinikanth is physically agile, with no trace of a paunch. “Basically, I am small-made, my body constitution is small,” he points out. “By God’s grace, the only property my parents gave me was a good body. No BP, no sugar, no hereditary problems. Small build, tight skin. And then the habits count. You have to take care of your body.”

He does it with yoga. And large spells of meditation.

When the rest of filmdom celebrates victory by flying to New York or Las Vegas, Rajinikanth triumphed at the box office with Robot and took off for the Himalayas. “I go to the Himalayas after every film. I go alone,” he reveals. “I go to the interiors, to the villages. Being there itself is like meditation. The Ganges, the divine mountain, the beauty, the innocent people. I’ve been going there for 15 years.”

Mumbai too holds a special fascination for him. “Mumbai, mayanagiri,” he muses. “Balasaheb.”

That brings us to the finale: I believe you met Balasaheb Thackeray in Mumbai this year?

“Yes, I met him.”

And you said he’s like God?

“Yes, yes. He loves me like his first son. I have met him before too.”

It’s like the way he is on screen — no sitting on the fence. Rajini says it the way he wants to.

CLARIFICATION
The graphic used with the article “Dial M for Money” (Sunday, December 12) related to a trade-marked, patented method owned by Hal Cash International and licensed to Empays Payment Systems. It is specific to Empays and is not a generic mode of money transfer.