Pankaj Tripathi, the current toast of small Hindi cinema, confessed to immense performance anxiety as he sat down with poet-writer Taqi Imam and singer Megha Sriram Dalton for ‘Yun Hi Idhar Udhar Ki’ , an informal session of prose, poetry, anecdotes, stories and music. It was organised last week at Overact, a small alternative theatre space tucked away in Aram Nagar, Mumbai’s perennially restless and bustling film, television and advertising hub. “I have got used to doing scripted acts,” confessed Tripathi. The lack of any premeditated format for the evening of batkahi (chitchat) — spread over two hours — felt intimidating even to a seasoned performer like him.
But why am I talking about this here? Because, with the regular participation of well-known film personalities, these quaint baithaks (get-togethers) have unwittingly helped place cinema in a broader frame. Beyond the confines of art and aesthetics, commerce and entertainment, it’s about turning cinema into a conduit for conversations, co-opting it for an engagement with the significant issues of the day.
Appropriate response
We have all been talking about how overtly political this year’s Oscars was. ‘Yun Hi…’ is a space where we can see Indian cinema, in the company of other artforms, being similarly responsive to the times.
Organised by curator-producer Anupama Bose and Imam, each of the series of cultural gatherings has had a specific theme with a well-known actor/ filmmaker at the helm. The very first one had the late Tom Alter holding forth on relationships in times of conflict. He read out one of Nida Fazli’s works — Karachi ek maa hai, Bambai bichhada hua beta ( Karachi is the mother and Bombay her estranged son ) — and with sensitivity and persuasiveness explained the poet’s assertion that the relationship of love between the two cities can’t be overrun by hatred.
In yet another session, ‘Zaiqa aur Rajneeti: The Politics of Taste,’ moderated by Big FM radio jockey Siddharth, actor and die-hard foodie Saurabh Shukla dwelled on the kebabs of nawabs and the common man’s vada pav and all the culinary politics in between. Actor Rasika Dugal and filmmaker Devashish Makhija spoke of politics of difference in cinema in another meet.
The latest in the series turned out to be close to Tripathi’s heart — ‘Sheher Mein Gaanv, on an immigrant’s quest to find a foothold and home in an alien city. Tripathi still remembers the day, October 16, 2004, when he landed up at Mumbai Central railway station, on the Golden Temple Mail. He spoke of how his heart still belongs in his village, Belsand, near Gopalganj in Bihar, and how he feels fathomless pain in bidding goodbye to his mother each time he returns from visiting her.
Breaking complacency
In its own odd way, it unburdened the actor and set him free of the controlled environment of a film set. Here it was all about interacting with other artistes and establishing a synergy with various forms of art, each of which has its own grammar. There was folk — its close-to-life, grounded lingo — in the voice of Megha, with her medley of ‘palayan’ and ‘shram’ songs, Jharkhandi adivasi geet and Holi songs. And then there was literature — readings of the works of Rahi Masoom Raza and Bashir Badr. “It was like the breaking of the fourth wall,” Tripathi said.
Breaking the walls, of complacency, has been the aim of this initiative too. Away from the opinion-peddling, posturing and shrill debates, these baithaks are all about reclaiming a truly liberal corner in an increasingly polarised, intolerant world. It’s about building communities that communicate, listen as much as they talk.
It’s about keeping reading and discourse alive, to take the the so-called high arts and literature back to the people.
It’s about the country’s communally and culturally harmonious Ganga-Jamuni tehzeeb . Cinema would do well to give it a hand.
The writer is Associate Editor-Cinema with The Hindu in Mumbai.
namrata.joshi@thehindu.co.in
