Some people leave behind a legacy that the world celebrates; a fortunate few also leave behind memories that their loved ones cherish for a lifetime. To the literary and cultural fraternity, Ved Rahi was a distinguished name in Hindi and Dogri literature and a multifaceted personality in Hindi cinema-as a director, producer and scriptwriter. His creative contributions earned him recognition and admiration. But to me, he was much more than the accomplished personality the world knew. He was Papaji, my paternal uncle, whose presence, affection and association became an inseparable part of my life’s journey. Having known him not merely through his literary and cinematic achievements but through the warmth of family relationships, I recall the person behind the legend.
I grew up in a large, close-knit family at my paternal grandparents’ home, surrounded by grandparents, parents, Chachas (Uncles), Chachis, bua (aunties), siblings and cousins. Our home was always bustling with life. We fought, laughed, loved and grew up together, scarcely knowing the difference between a real sibling and a cousin. We were, quite simply, one big family.
Our elders had a wonderful way of bringing us up. Whether it was our grandparents or our respective parents, everyone was treated with equal love and affection. Of course, grandparents did have their little favourites, as most grandparents do, but that never translated into partiality or taking sides. On the rare occasions when disagreements or heated arguments erupted among us children, we were expected to sort out our differences ourselves. The elders would seldom intervene, though the weaker or more vulnerable one would invariably receive a little extra pampering and sympathy behind the scenes!
It was in this wonderful family setting that one of my paternal uncles, who had made Mumbai his home and was pursuing his creative journey in Hindi cinema, occupied a very special place. We would eagerly await his periodic visits from Mumbai. His arrival, accompanied by Chachi and my two cousins, would add yet another delightful dimension to the already lively household. The excitement was palpable and the family seemed to acquire a fresh burst of energy. Following the affectionate tradition set by my elder siblings, I too addressed him as Papaji. And Papaji he remained to me-not merely an accomplished personality from the world of literature and cinema, but someone who was an integral part of our family world.
Among his literary works, I could sense the extraordinary sensitivity that found expression in his writing. Much later, I realised that the sensitivity I had felt in his writings was an intrinsic part of his own personality. His ability to touch the human heart through words was something I came to appreciate even more as I grew older.
As the years passed, childhood gave way to adulthood. I got married and Papaji travelled all the way from Mumbai, especially to attend my wedding. That gesture remains a cherished memory. Over time, he developed a particular fondness for my husband, Sh. Vinod Kumar Gupta, a civil servant, himself a voracious reader and an ardent admirer of good cinema. A warm and special bond developed between the two. Whenever Papaji visited Jammu, he would invariably take time to meet us. We were fortunate to enjoy several long, leisurely and wonderfully engaging sittings with him.
Our conversations ranged across virtually every subject under the sun. We discussed literature, cinema, society and life, as well as some sensitive family matters. Interestingly, while his contribution to literature and cinema naturally found mention, our conversations were never dominated by his achievements. We appreciated his creative work but our interactions were essentially about ideas, experiences, relationships and the many facets of life. I could always sense his innate sensitivity-not just in his writings, but equally in his manner of speaking, his observations and the way he responded to people and situations.
As I gradually ventured into writing myself and began publishing books, I found another reason to approach Papaji. I requested him to write the introduction to one of my books. He readily agreed, and what made the gesture particularly special was the warmth with which he acknowledged my literary growth. In his introduction, he expressed his happiness at seeing how I had evolved as a writer. Coming from someone of his literary stature, those words meant a great deal to me. They were not merely words of appreciation; they were a source of encouragement and confidence.
Emboldened by his gracious response, I approached him once again when I brought out another book. To my delight, he gladly agreed to write its introduction too. This time, however, he accompanied his generosity with a humorous piece of advice: I should stop playing with words as though they were my play dolls! I can still recall the affectionate humour behind that remark. It was so characteristic of him-encouraging, yet gently teasing; appreciative, yet never one to miss an opportunity for a little leg-pulling. His words made me smile but they also revealed the affectionate ease with which he shared his thoughts. These exchanges of notes and messages also became a recurring reminder of his desire to see us in Mumbai. Almost invariably, he would renew his invitation to both of us. He wanted us to come specifically to spend some uninterrupted, exclusive time with him. He looked forward to those long conversations just as much as we did.
I believe he was also conscious of being the eldest surviving member of our paternal family. He carried that position with a quiet sense of responsibility and affection. He would invariably ask about updates about my daughter. His affection was never confined to one generation; it flowed naturally across the family. Eventually, we did make another visit to Mumbai, this time with the specific intention of spending time with them. And what a wonderful time it was! We were once again surrounded by the warmth and affection of family. We returned with our hearts full and, once again, found ourselves reminiscing about those delightful hours during our long sittings with him in Jammu.
I also vividly remember our visits to Mumbai for the weddings of his two daughters, my cousins. We found ourselves amidst a veritable galaxy of personalities from the Hindi film industry-writers, producers, directors and actors. It was fascinating to witness the world of cinema at such close quarters. Yet, what impressed me most was not the glitter or the presence of celebrated film personalities, but Papaji himself. Here was a man who had made his mark in the glamorous, often larger-than-life world of Hindi cinema, yet remained remarkably unassuming and simple. There was no trace of the airs or ostentation that one might ordinarily associate with someone of his stature. His simplicity was, perhaps, one of his most endearing qualities. The contrast between the glittering world he inhabited professionally and the uncomplicated person he remained in his personal life was truly remarkable.
Looking back, I realise that my association with Papaji unfolded in several beautiful stages-from the excitement of a child awaiting his arrival from Mumbai, to the admiration of a young reader moved to tears by his writing, to the affection of a married niece enjoying long conversations with him and eventually, to the gratitude of a budding writer whose work he encouraged and appreciated. Each phase added another layer to my understanding of him.
Ved Rahi’s literary and cinematic contributions undoubtedly constitute an important part of our cultural heritage. His creative journey across Hindi and Dogri literature and the world of Hindi cinema speaks of a rare versatility and an enduring commitment to his craft. Yet, for me, his greatness was never confined to his professional accomplishments. I found it equally in his sensitivity, simplicity, warmth, sense of humour and his abiding concern for family relationships. He was someone who could command admiration in the world outside while remaining effortlessly approachable within the family.
The world may remember Ved Rahi, the writer, the filmmaker and the celebrated creative personality; I shall always remember Papaji-the affectionate uncle, the encouraging literary guide, the engaging conversationalist and the unassuming human being. His words may live on through his books and films, but for those of us who were fortunate enough to share his life, his legacy also lives in countless moments of togetherness, conversations that linger in memory and bonds that time cannot diminish. Some people become legends through their accomplishments. But the most beautiful thing about them is that, to those who love them, they never cease to be family. And that is how I shall always remember him-beyond the legend, forever Papaji.