My one enduring regret will be that I couldn’t complete Manoj Kumar’s authorised biography.

Before the pandemic hit in 2020, the pioneer of bharatiya cinema and I had talked extensively about it. Following his traditional beliefs, the first meeting to discuss his biography was put off several times by Manoj, who would send me messages like: “Shani aur Mangal ko koi naya kaam nahin. Maa ki agya ka palan toh karna hai. Any other day is fine.”

We did start the project, but not on a Shani (Saturday) or a Mangal (Tuesday). By this time, Manoj had gone back to identifying himself as Harikrishna Goswami. His huge bungalow in Juhu had given way to Goswami Towers. It felt strange to walk into an apartment and into his bedroom to meet the man who talked from under a blanket. He was already an octogenarian, aware that time was running out to chronicle his life story. He had by then defied multiple organ failure and dire medical predictions that gave him two years to live. Driven by his willpower and belief in homeopathy, he lived on for 10 more years.

Promising to hand me his no-objection letter at the next meeting, he talked extensively about the Partition. He was 10 years old then and had vivid memories of it. Of the family’s arrival from what has been Pakistan since 1947. Of wanting to make ₹3,00,000 from the Hindi film industry and quitting, only to make many more lakhs and stay on. Of becoming an actor and turning filmmaker when he was barely 30. Of personal connections with Lal Bahadur Shastri and Indira Gandhi. Of his heroines Asha Parekh and Saira Banu.

For Manoj, handing his life story to me was of particular interest. Although I knew him only as a filmmaker and actor, he later began to remind me that we were family. My sister-in-law was related to him and it was Manoj who told me about the connection.

At the meeting where he spoke from under a blanket, he was particularly happy that I’d waved away offers of tea and coffee and opted for a mug of hot water. “That’s the best drink,” he’d nodded. Hot water was the pivot of many of his messages when the pandemic struck and further meetings got pushed into eternity.

Messages from Manoj lamented that the Golden Temple had been closed for the first time (during lockdown), and there were forwards of chants that one must regularly listen to. He lived like the Bharat that he portrayed in his movies, influencing his audience to such an extent that he got heaps of birthday greetings on August 15, although he was born on July 24.

Meetings became impossible during the lockdown and after. In reply to a message I sent him in 2022 asking why he was avoiding a meeting, he’d replied: “Arre, avoiding u? Na, na. Maar khaani hai? Personal meeting pakki karenge.” It remained an unfulfilled promise.

With the Maharashtra government giving him state honours, sons Kunal and Vishal decided to keep Manoj at the hospital on Friday. He will be brought home on Saturday morning before being taken to the Pawan Hans crematorium.