Brought to you by the same mind that brought you crass such as “Mr. Prime Minister”, “Censor”, “Love in Times Square”, etc. Dev Anand’s autobiography- Romancing with Life- is a hodgepodge, below par literary effort, mostly overflowing with Mr. Anand’s barely concealed lust for women. When I started reading the book, I expected to come across filmy anecdotes- to be transported to the world of cinema my parents had seen and grown up with. Instead I had to contend with the ramblings of a mind ranging from infantile to senile.
If I read the signs correctly, 'Romancing with Life' is more of a chronicle of Dev Anand’s love affairs than anything else. It is hard to believe the string of women he describes (in great detail) as being buxom or curvy or dressed in such and such way, were not the objects of his desire, romance or lust. There are a few strong points in the book though- parts where Dev Anand actually talks about the era gone by; one of the best points in the book is when he, Dilip Kumar and Raj Kumar meet Jawahar Lal Nehru. In any other book, this would have been a drab boring literary piece; but the rest of the book was so bad that in comparison, this meeting stood out.
Only in one section does Dev Anand admit his extramarital “feelings”; in this section, Zeenat Aman becomes the object of his desire and affection and Mr. Anand admits that he was about to profess his love to her, when fate stepped in.
Take my advice; avoid Dev Anand’s ramblings. Read Saadat Hasan Manto’s 'Stars from another sky' instead.
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