Who was Shehnaz? The tragic story of the woman destined to play Mughal-e-Azam’s Anarkali
Scouring through images to accompany an Instagram post, I came across one I was struck by - a close up film shot of a self-assured woman decorated with grand jewellery, posed to side with the air of royalty and class.
There was something familiar about it – it was akin to a screengrab of a vintage Bollywood movie I must’ve watched many moons ago. And then it clicked. The styling was similar, the face of the woman felt natural, as if she was meant to have this taken. Like a word association game, my mind flitted to Mughal-E-Azam, the legendary 1960s epic film based on Imtiaz Ali Taj’s play, Anarkali (1922).
But this wasn’t the face of Anarkali I recognised. Curious, I went down a rabbit hole and found myself reading about the tragic story of hidden abuse behind the mask of stardom and glimmering galas.
Sophia Naz, an author and poet, had shared the true untold story of her mother in her memoir Shehnaz: A Tragic True Story of Royalty, Glamour and Heartbreak. What struck me was how she was to be initially cast as Anarkali in the legendary Mughal-e-Azam and her reasons for turning this down.
In a calculated decision made by her husband to further his public image, Shehnaz performed in the stage adaptation of Anarkali – it was a huge success. One night, director K. Asif sat in the audience and an instant decision was made. He had found his Anarkali.
Knocking on Shehnaz’s dressing room door, Asif declared “Anarkali! I have found you at last and now I will make you the most famous woman in India for you will bring her to life in Mughal-é-Azam!”
Shehnaz was taken aback; it was not proper for a respectable woman to appear on screens in this form especially during this period, and thus began the attempts of Asif convincing Shehnaz to at least appear for a screen test. “I won’t even let the shadow of a scandal fall upon you” he assured.
Naz shares a few of these images, one of them being the first image that caught my eye.
With the production team wary of the lack of time to stitch up a new costume, Shehnaz opted to wear what she wore on stage as Anarkali – though this was not a costume but her own Bhopali joda - “the threads are all real silver and gold”, she said.
With Shehnaz uttering monologues from the play with natural grace and passing the test with the shoot, Asif was relieved to finally find the perfect leading lady (initially being offered to Nargis Dutt and then Suraiya Jamal Sheikh).
The rest of Shehnaz’s life seems to be steeped in tragedy but hope. Naz shares how Shehnaz had made the decision to divorce her husband upon the plea of a doctor but his influence led to Shehnaz losing custody of her children, never to see them again after numerous attempts.
Naz describes her mother as a lover of music and singing, a strong-willed woman who gave her children wonderful childhoods filled with adventures and motherly love.
The story of Shehnaz, while intriguing, is just one example of how patriarchal structures continue to imbed themselves into South Asian society. A talented woman in her own right who sought independence from the strain of her husband’s oppression, was limited to decisions made by those around her. In sharing this, Naz continues to keep Shehnaz’s story alive.