FOND MEMORIES: A still from Roja (above); cover of the new book (below)

At the ripe old age of 76, S.M. Laxmi still considers herself in the prime of her youth! All of five feet and weighing not more than 45 kg, she has lost all her teeth and has the most wonderful smile. I tell her that her ‘toothless’ smile literally lit up her whole face and she twinkled right back and said, “This very smile of mine... I broke so many hearts when I was young.” ...The well-worn sari, now down to a faded hue of the blood-red colour it once was, has obviously seen some better days even as the jaunty walk and the loud voice and the frequent bursts into uproarious laughter belie her actual age. Oh... she hates being called old.

I had told the people at Madras Talkies that I wanted to meet the old lady who dances with abandoment in the film Roja and sings Rukmini, Rukmini shaadi ke baad kya kya hua. Soon thereafter, the ‘young lady’ showed up...

She held my hands at first. She said that she saw my guru Mani Ratnam in me. He was the man who gave her instant stardom just by making her say the words Rukmini, Rukmini in that song. She went from being just another ‘extra’ to someone who was tangibly recognised. The one song got her more recognition than spending 60 years in show business as an extra. She had worked on the film with Ratnam and obviously I was curious. Had she not met him? She shook her head. She even looked sad. Apparently it was his assistant who came looking for her and even on the day of shooting he just nodded at her from afar...

SM. Laxmi, or ‘Roja’ Patti as she is fondly called, was born in a fairly well-off family in Salem. Her father conducted the Sri Krishna Gnana Sabha which was like a drama school. She started acting as a child artiste in many of her father’s own productions... A nubile and young Patti was married off at the age of eleven! By the time she was 26 she had given birth to seven children.

A bad marriage and the weight of the family meant that she accepted bit parts in movies. Her very first film starred the great Sivaji Ganesan where she was a part of the crowd scene. The movie was Sivanthammal and she was paid a princely five rupees per day! “Nowadays I get 500 rupees per day!” she announces proudly.

...Patti was in a zone of her own. “Those days you needed to know how to sing, dance, ride horses ? everything. You could be black and nobody cared. Now? All that is required is white skin. The white-skinned man left the country but he did not leave our fascination for his skin behind!” she adds scathingly. “Being an extra is not just standing behind, lost in a crowd. Being an extra also requires you to act. While depicting a death or a war scene, you are required to lie still on the floor for hours without movement. In one film, I had to play the role of a beggar, and I starved. Let me tell you, kozhandai (child), I got more applause for that one small moment on screen than even Sivaji Ganesan did! I’ve been doing this for 50 years.”

Patti had given her entire childhood to her family. She looked and became old in her 20s itself. She recalls sadly that by the time she found herself, she was too old to matter to anyone. And now she lives all alone. “I live outside of Chengalpet and just to get here today, only because you wanted to meet me and talk to me and give me respect, I took a train to Egmore and then took a bus and came to Alwarpet. All because you are giving me respect. You are actually talking to me, asking for my opinion!” She looks quite stunned at the prospect.

I didn’t quite know what to say to that and ordered a cup of coffee and some idlis for her. She literally devoured the idlis and went through her hot coffee in a second. 'You are a good girl, my child,” she continued, and looked around. I wasn’t too sure why, and then it struck me. I asked the office boy Nagendra to get her more idlis and her face lit up as soon as she saw them. “You are taking care of an old lady like me. Just like MGR. Even he took care of me always. He always made sure I ate on time and asked me if I needed money. Of course whenever he made me sit next to him to eat, he always made sure there were a lot of cameras and media people who photographed him eating with the poor and lowly extras!”...

“Everyone treats me like their own grandma and calls me Roja Patti like you. Arvind Swamy used to hug me and pick me up and swirl me around! He always made me sit next to him. Tabu was also a sweet girl. She always stopped the car and got out and wished me. Director Priyadarshan? He once took me to Mysore for 15 days. He gave me the same food that he himself ate! But I always sat on the side. One should know their place in life, you know. You should never forget where you come from and who you are. Especially in the film industry.”

She stood up. She looked and was obviously tired. “Porumma, I can’t talk anymore. I am tired. I left home at four in the morning to get here for this interview...”

She then stood staring at me for some time. I knew there was something else she wanted. But what? What was it? I didn’t know... Nagendra made a sign at me and whispered something in my ear. Enlightenment dawned. I took out my purse and gave her a hundred rupees. The old lady smiled. The same toothless smile. It lit up her tired face again.

“Any time, ma. Call me to talk some more and I'll come, ma.” With those words, Roja Patti left the office.