She couldn’t have identified herself with either of the two. Shammi (1929-2018) had to forgo her real name (Nargis Rabadi) to distinguish herself from her more famous contemporary in the Hindi film industry. In later years, the sobriquet of “Aunty” attached to her, though affectionate, was in a way injustice to the prolific body of her work spanning over seven decades.

In ways that make it awkward to visualise the romantic side of grandmothers in their youth, generations might be unaware of the girl for whom Dilip Kumar is seen enacting the immortal Talat Mahmood number: Mujhe kyon na ho teri aarzu teri justaju mein bahaar hai/ye hawa, ye raat, ye chandni teri ek adaa pe nisaar hai.

Perhaps her most significant musical moment on the screen, this song was one of the highlights of Sangdil (1952), a loose Indian adaptation of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre. The film also had Madhubala in its star cast. Sajjad Hussain composed music to Rajendra Krishan’s memorable lyrics.

Sangdil had come three years after she had made her debut in Tara Harish- directed Ustad Pedro (1949), a Sheikh Mukhtar production. Two years later she played the female lead in Malhar (1951).

The swift journey from working in a pharmaceutical company to acting in Hindi films was quite unplanned for Nargis Rabadi. She just turned out be an answer to Sheikh Mukhtar’s search for a new girl to cast in his new production. On the suggestion of her first director, she changed her name.

Shammi had not only to overcome family resistance to what was then an unconventional career for a girl from a Parsi priestly family but also had to counter the apprehensions of her first producer about her Hindi-speaking skills. She managed to convince people on both counts.

However, though she began with playing the lead in the 1950s, her career witnessed a few failures. Instead of waiting for more meaty roles, financial necessity and passion for acting motivated her to keep working.

She accepted character, comic and even vampish roles – a repertoire that defined her later years of work. Her light-hearted avatar in comic roles, especially when paired with Mukri, had its moments. It was, however, Johnny Walker with whom her comic timing got first noticed in K Asif’s Musafirkhana (1955).

If there is a musical reflection of her changing role on the Hindi silver screen, it’s a song from Mahesh Kaul’s Aakhri Dao (1958). With a similar tune to the Sangdil song in which she was the subject of Dilip Kumar’s attention, this song had her playing comic second fiddle to Nutan. Madan Mohan’s tune had Majrooh Sultanpuri’s lines as Mohammad Rafi hummed: Tujhe kya sunaun main dilruba, tere saamne mera haal hai/ teri ek nazar ki baat hai, meri zindagi ka sawaal hai.

Shammi had a prolific career in the Hindi film industry, as she worked in over 500 movies. Most significant releases in the 1960s were Half Ticket (1962), Jab Jab Phul Khile (1965), Upkaar (1967) and Ittefaq (1969).

Her marriage to director Sultan Ahmed in the early 1970s led her to keep herself mostly confined to his directorial ventures. It was also a phase when she had started playing mother, as could be seen in Manoj Kumar’s Purab and Paschim.

After her divorce with Ahmed in 1980, a number of friends helped her to resurrect her acting career with films like Burning Train, Kudrat, Awara Baap and a role in the 1990 blockbuster Swarg.

What, however, she discovered in the period was television as a hosting platform for the kind of versatility she had developed over the years even at the cost of insignificance. Though she continued to get character roles in films till the turn of this century, it was television which offered her rehabilitation.

Her comic days stood her in good stead while essaying roles in a number of TV serials like Dekh Bhai Dekh, Zabaan Sambhal Ke, Filmy Chakkar and Kabhi Yeh Kabhi Who, to name a few.

In an interview, she had said she never had a secretary to get work for her. Instead, her strong network of friends in the industry brought her work.

It was somehow ironic that her last piece of major work on the silver screen saw her playing a Parsi woman – an identity for which she was at risk of losing her first film in 1949. In Bela Sehgal’s well-received Shirin Farhad ki toh Nikal Padi (2012), Shammi played grandmother to the middle-aged Farhad (played by Boman Irani).

As a comic look at the shrinking matrimonial prospects in the small Parsi community, the film even managed to get a mention in the widely read international weekly The Economist.

Her death came just before she turned 90, taking away a remarkable witness to different eras of Hindi cinema but also an embodiment of different hues. She wouldn’t have ever grudged Aunty being made a part of her name, but definitely knew she was much more than that.