After interval, 90s star Urmila Matondkar essays role of ‘aam aadmi’

In a nation obsessed with politics and cinema in equal measure, Urmila Matondkar has turned out to be a smart arrow in Congress’s quiver. The 45-year-old actress who went from being a child star to a sultry heroine to an unshakeable contender from Mumbai North has been electioneering fiercely against sitting MP Gopal Shetty, a BJP veteran.

While rivals claim that Shetty will retain the seat without much trouble, they are evidently dazed by Matondkar’s high-pitched, media-fuelled poll campaign.

Make no mistake. In the year of Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (the 1995 Shah Rukh Khan-Kajol blockbuster), Rangeela was ground-breaking. It made the uninhibited Matondkar much sought after and a clear contender for the top perch.


Matondkar, who was once a little girl rocking on a wooden horse to the famous Lakdi ki kaathi song notched up tinsel town’s pecking order in no time. Unlike many child actors who faded, Matondkar hung in there, waiting for the right adult role. It arrived in the form of a forgettable film, but an encounter with director Ram Gopal Verma changed her life.

A steady star for over a decade, delivering blockbusters like Rangeela, Bhoot and Judaai, alongside critical hits like Ek Haseena Thi and Satya, the actress retreated into a more private life around 10 years ago.

She lay low for years, making sporadic appearances in films before surprising everyone with sudden news of her hushed marriage with Mohsin Akhtar Mir – businessman and model, 10 years younger than her. She continued to stay away from the spotlight until Rahul Gandhi beckoned last month.

Matondkar worked in the pre-social media era but it isn’t hard to see that people still love her. Stars aren’t new to the constituency.

Actor Govinda had contested the Lok Sabha election from Mumbai North and trounced Ram Naik, a BJP veteran and former Union minister back in 2004. The Rangeela girl after shifting base from Bandra to Kandivli has now managed to straddle the suburban-urban mosaic, wooing densely-populated pockets from Dahisar to Malad, not with tall promises or star power but by bonding with locals. “People may take me as a glamour doll that the party is trying to use in order to pull a crowd but my actions and time will tell,” she told TOI.

She has ditched her air-conditioned car for an autorickshaw and her feet to hop through bastis and nagars (small settlements). She has stopped by the roadside to bite into a vada pav, sung songs with slum kids and engaged in cheery conversations with morning walkers in Marathi, Hindi and English. Instead of fiery campaign-style hustle, her speeches are breezy, tugging on the secular thread and harping on her middle class Maharashtrian upbringing, her father’s commitment to Seva Dal, and her educational background to define her commitment to political action. She has also managed to extract advice and assurances from old friend Raj Thackeray who has ensured that his party workers canvas for her.

Trying to break into the Borivli-Kandivli belt, which is largely Gujarati and a BJP stronghold, Matondkar spoke her lines with flair and extoled the flavours of dhokla, thepla and gathiya. That apart, she has been channelling her inner ‘Mumbaichi Mulgi’ (daughter of Mumbai) with pride. On Gudi Padwa, she wrapped herself in a traditional nauvari sari paired with a paisley nath (nose ring) and joined women bikers to dance and play the lezim (a musical instrument with cymbals).

But what’s an electoral contest without some controversy? Within 24 hours of Matondkar joining Congress, social media posts had surfaced claiming that the actress had embraced Islam and changed her name to ‘Maryam Akhtar Mir’ after marriage. Not the kind to give into detractors, she laughed off the claims and made it a part of her poll rhetoric. “This is exactly the kind of vitiated political and social atmosphere that forced me to join politics,” she said.