Bollywood: Photos: Amitabh Bachchan, SRK, Saif, Ranbir at Shashi Kapoor's funeral

Monday evening December 4, 2017 sent a wave of shock through the Indian film industry as the day marked the sad demise of legendary actor Shashi Kapoor. The romantic screen icon of the 70s and early 80s who immortalised the line "Mere paas Maa hai", breathed his last at 5:20 pm at the Kokilaben Dhirubhai Ambani Hospital in Mumbai. He was 79.

The last rites of the veteran actor were held at Santacruz Hindu crematorium on Tuesday noon. A number of eminent Bollywood celebrities, such as Amitabh Bachchan, Abhishek Bachchan, Saif Ali Khan, Sanjay Dutt, Lara Dutta, Naseeruddin Shah, Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra, along with Kapoor's family members Rishi Kapoor, Randhir Kapoor, Ranbir Kapoor attended the funeral to pay their last respects.

The actor had been suffering from ailments for the past few years. He had undergone a bypass surgery and was also hospitalised for a chest infection in 2014.

Kapoor hit the spotlight at the age of four, acting in plays directed and produced by his father. He started acting in films as a child artiste in the late '40s.

His best-known performances as a child actor were in Aag (1948) and Awaara (1951), where he played the younger version of the character played by Raj Kapoor. He also worked as assistant director in the '50s.

He made his debut as a leading man in the 1961 film Dharmputra and went on to appear in more than 116 films during the '70s and until the mid-'80s. A three-time national award winner, he was also honoured with Padma Bhushan in 2011 and received the prestigious Dada Saheb Phalke award in 2015.

Bollywood celebs - actors and producers reached Shashi Kapoor's house as the news of his death broke. Here is producer Boney Kapoor at Shashi Kapoor's residence.

This tribute was written in 2016 by Karan Johar in Aseem Chhabra's book, Shashi Kapoor: The Householder, the Star.

It was the 1960s. A dashingly handsome, dimpled hero with abnormally good hair had arrived on the scene. In lush green hill stations, he'd look lovingly at his heroines. And for that split second, time would stop, as would the hearts of members of the audience.

The hero was Shashi Kapoor. And he was every bit the romantic heart-throb - from his mannerisms and his looks to that je ne sais quoi that makes hearts flutter and women fall in love. Shashi Kapoor was the quintessential Prince Charming.

Then came the late 1970s and the early 1980s, when the idea of a hero changed. He became a middle-class, rage-fuelled man who communicated with his fists, rather than with words. Affectionate glances were replaced by angry tears. The audience went wild, seeking graphic violence and scenes that went crash-boom-bang on the screen. The Prince Charming of the preceding decade seemed almost buried.

And yet, Shashi Kapoor miraculously survived. With his fascinating screen personality and great acting skills, he continued leaving a mark as the voice of reason and morality. He became an antidote to the 'revenge or nothing' phase that Bollywood seemed to be passing through. The characters he essayed reminded the audience that amidst the sound and fury, the blood and violence, there was still value in quiet graciousness and gentleness; there was merit in abiding by what-is-right, as opposed to reacting reflexively to what's-right-now. Shashi Kapoor was now the 'moral hero'.

Shashi Kapoor has been a stalwart of the film industry for years, and was one of the first actors to consistently act in international cinema. Yet, throughout, he had remained a humble man, known to treat every member of the crew as his own. He is also one of the few to unfailingly return to his roots - theatre. His establishment of Prithvi and even his role in the international movie Shakespeare Wallah have been tributes to everything that theatre had given him in his youth - his finesse, his command over his craft and, of course, his wife. Shashi Kapoor is the 'ultimate gentleman'.

Somewhere, in the hullaballoo of the over-the-top 1980s phase of Indian cinema, we forgot what a great actor and human being Shashi Kapoor was and continues to be. I have the greatest love and respect for him - not just for his contribution to our industry, but also for the person he is: always kind, always engaging and always generous

Today, I am honoured to write about a man who never gave up on his craft, but nurtured it as a producer, a theatre veteran and even as a producer who picked interesting, offbeat subjects to back. Shashiji has the love and respect of a generation that grew up watching him light up the screen every single time. And indeed, anyone who is to discover him today will undoubtedly feel the same way.

To me, and to a great many people, he will always be the gentleman, the moral hero, a Prince Charming.

He will always be Shashi Kapoor.

Karan Johar
Bombay, 2016

Karisma and mother Babita Kapoor.

Shashi Kapoor shot his last big screen outing In Custody/Muhafiz in Bhopal. There are a number of stories attached to the film, which was directed by Ismail Merchant and hit the screen in 1994.

Balbir Raj Kapoor aka Shashi Kapoor, played an Urdu poet in the film, which co-starred the late Om Puri. Shabana Azmi, Pareekshit Sahni, Neena Gupta, Sushma Seth played important roles in In Custody/Muhafiz. Shashi stayed in the City of Lakes for almost one and a half months while shooting the picture.

Film connoisseur Khalid, who worked as an extra in this film, says that looking at Shashi during those days was a different feeling altogether. The charming and handsome actor had turned into an overweight man and was almost unrecognisable in his new look. The actor was certainly not in the best of his health as he would struggle while getting into his ambassador car.

Khalid, however, also reminisces that despite being such a huge star, Shashi was extremely down-to-earth and would meet his fans with a lot of warmth. The veteran also frequently visited Madhya Pradesh's financial capital Indore.

It was after shooting In Custody/Muhafiz that the gap between Shashi and the world of movies, widened and it eventually became his last silver screen appearance. The film won Shashi the National Film Award (Special Jury) and is one of his most remembered performances.

Kajol at Shashi Kapoor's house.

A couple of years ago Shashi's eldest son, Kunal, spoke Rediff.com about his father, 'In the late 1960s, my father did not have any work. He sold his sports car. Mum also started selling things because we didn't have money.'

In the interview, Kunal Kapoor reveals what Shashi Kapoor was really like.

I did not know how popular my father was because we were not brought up as part of the industry.

We knew he was an actor. Everybody in my mother (the legendary Jennifer Kendal)'s and my father's family were actors.

We were aware that going to public places with him in Mumbai was a problem.

If we went to the zoo, it would have to be at 6:30 in the morning. And we would have to run away as soon as a crowd gathered.

Dad never worked on Sundays. He spent the whole day with the family. We would have all three meals together. He never invited his friends over on Sunday.

In the late 1970s and early 1980s, he used to work in many films. He used to do six shifts.

We would sit for breakfast at 7.30 am. No matter what time he came in the previous night, he would be at the breakfast table at 7.30.

Our father was an integral part of our life. He was not strict.

Saif and Kareena Kapoor.

Kunal Kapoor says in the interview:

It is not true that my maternal grandfather (Geoffrey Kendal) did not want my parents to marry.

My grandfather was concerned about losing his leading lady. My mother played all the lead roles in the Shakespeareana theatre company run by my grandfather.

It would be hard to find better grandparents than my mother's parents. They were the most amazing people.

Before my parents got married, they both worked with Shakespeareana.

They were in Singapore and Malaysia for a show, but the shows were cancelled and they were broke.

They wanted to get married so Raj (Kapoor) Uncle gave them money for their tickets and they came to Mumbai and got married (in 1958).

My maternal grandfather loved India. He spent half his life in India. You should read Shakespearewala, the book he wrote. You will know how my grandparents travelled the whole of India with their plays.

My grandfather came to India during the war with the army. He fell in love with India and then he came back to India in the 1950s.

My parents were in love with each other; they took care of each other.

My mother died when she was just 50. My dad was 46 then.

Our mother's death caused us and our father a lot of grief; we had our own way of dealing with it.

Sanjay Dutt and Anil Kapoor.

Raj Uncle was 14 years older than my father, and Shammi Uncle was seven years older.

Dad put on weight at the same age as Raj Uncle and Shammi Uncle did.

My grandfather Prithviraj Kapoor liked acting and he got into the business. So did Raj Uncle, Shammi Uncle and my dad. They did not want to be stars; they just wanted to be actors.

Later, Raj Uncle got interested in making films and turned director. They were not like today's generation where everyone wants to be a star. They were in love with their profession.

'My father directed only one film, Ajooba. The film was a big party on the sets. Everybody had a blast. I don't think he was interested in direction. He is an actor'

The early films he did -- Dharamputra, Waqt, Householder, Char Diwari, Shakespeare Wallah and Jab Jab Phool Khile -- were very interesting films. In the 1950s, people made good films.

The industry changed and the quality of films made in the late 1970s started deteriorating.

Seeing that good films were not being made and the industry was run by loan sharks making commercial potboilers, my father started his own production company, Film Valas. He made Junoon (1978), Kalyug (1980), 36 Chowringhee Lane (1981), Vijeta (1982), Utsav (1984) and Ajooba (1991).

My father was very professional and easy to work with. He had no tantrums, no starry airs, he never misbehaved on the sets, he was punctual and everybody liked working with him.

Amitabh Bachchan and Abhishek at Shashi Kapoor's funeral.

When my father was launched as a lead actor in Dharamputra, none of the actresses wanted to work with a newcomer.

Nanda was the only actress who agreed to work with him even though she was a star at that time.

My father directed only one film, Ajooba. The film was a big party on the sets. Everybody had a blast.

I don't think he was interested in direction. He is an actor.

Likewise, he is not a businessman to produce a film. He made great films because he gave his cast and crew whatever they wanted.

In the late '60s, he did not have any work. We saw a lot of him then.

That was also the time we discovered Goa. He sold his sports car. Mum also started selling things because we didn't have money.

After Sharmilee (1971), things changed again.

There have been many ups and downs, but it never bothered us.

My father was one of the earliest actors to do crossover films, with Merchant-Ivory (the successful producer-director team of Ismail Merchant and James Ivory).

He did films like Householder and Shakespeare Wallah that are considered classics today.

Rishi and Randhir Kapoor at Shashi Kapoor's funeral.

Here is the text of Bikram Vohra's interview with Shashi Kapoor entitled "Shashi Kapoor: I'm playing a Class 'C' Stuntman," from 1975

Naseeruddin Shah and Ratna Pathak.

There is something very disturbing about film stars who will not conform. A man expects them to behave in an extraordinary manner so he can make good, readable copy bouncing them round. Now take Shashi Kapoor. He's a bit of a spoilsport. Not only does he answer the telephone himself, he said, let's meet around eight o'clock tomorrow. I said, could we make it a little earlier in the evening (there's no percentage in working after hours). He said, I meant in the morning. I said, morning, but you won't be awake till eleven. And he said, I wake at six every day. This I had to see, I mean, it was a filmland first. Five to one he'd be dead to the world, sleeping off last night's riotous party. (Even the dullest of filmland parties are called riotous.)

The man was eating an organic breakfast, chirpy as one of those birds that hop around catching the late night worm. Shashi Kapoor, trimmer, younger, more sober, and his charming wife Jennifer, are on a health food kick. Vegetarian, adds Shashi dolefully.

Even the house has taste. No garish colour clashes or gilded self portraits, no screaming hostility between carpet, the walls and furniture. Books, from Buchwald to Nehru to Proust to Wodehouse to Godard. Pleasant, well-mannered servants.

So how come, Shashi, you don't choose your roles with the same discrimination as you do your life style. Good start! "I wish I could. I am definitely doing roles that should legitimately be given to Class 'C' stuntmen. Commercial cinema is so well entrenched in its formula it offers little."

"It is believed your roles are being massacred to cut you down, and you've been duped, 'Deewaar' being a questionin point."

"I don't think that's quite true. A lot of people have been talking this way especially after 'Deewaar.' Now I think it's ridiculous to say that Amitabh's role was engineered to show me up. After all, before I took the role I knew I was playing the second lead. So the idea of a conspiracy against Shashi Kapoor is Bullsh*t. And in any case why do we have this hang-up in our country? About always coming out as heroes. In the West great names like Olivier, Burton, Harrison frequently played second roles. There's nothing demeaning about that."

"Yes, what about the quality of these second rate roles?"

"What can I do if that's all I'm offered. I want to make good pictures in Hindi|English but who's got the guts to take the risks. I won't say i haven't done any good roles but certainly there's a lot more I could have done and still can do given the chance. In fact sometimes I really wonder if I'm anywhere near doing what I'd started as a little boy. I saw my father, my brother, and all the pioneers of Indian cinema and moved in that company. I had a different scenario in my mind. Not the commercial pap we churn out now."

Shashi Kapoor sensibly seems to be sick to the stomach with what he's doing these days and spends a good deal of his time mocking himself, for all the big plans that he had. Once the shooting's done it's home and no time for edging around in the filmland's social whirl. "That's quite true," he said, "it's more important to take Jennifer and the children for a movie and coffee at the Shamiana rather than hobnob at the same old dreary party, with the same old dreary people, doing the same old dreary things."

"Talking about saying things you've been speaking out of turn too."

"Oh! sometimes I speak without thinking. Whaddav I said now!"

"Well, for a start you've been saying some very nasty things about Zeenat."

"Oh, that. I've told Zeenat that to her face. Yeah! I told her she's a good-looking woman, but she can't act for peanuts. So what's the big fuss about? I've told Shabana she wasn't particularly good looking but she is a very fine actress. I say what I feel that's why people don't like me, they are welcome to say it, it's all a matter of opinion."

"How come the Kapoors haven't made a film together?"

"We haven't been given the script. We wouldn't want to make a gimmick. If something worth while comes up, we will."

"Are you acting in Raj's latest movie?"

"I don't know. He hasn't told me yet."

"You all don't meet each other often, do you?"

"As a matter of fact, we don't. It's not that we aren't a close-knit family. We just don't like to invade each other's privacy. We keep in touch. We are not always breathing down each other's neck. We have our own lives to live. So why be phoney about it."

Good looking with lazy eyes, a rather boyish grin, Shashi has just won over a Kapoor bogey—overweight. Keeps himself trim—swimming and a regimented diet. Known for dispensing with star airs Shashi is quite capable of dropping in at a journalist friend's place for 'dosas' or sitting through a friend's theatrical performances in an old tumbledown school hall.