In the death of B.R. Chopra more than just a doyen has passed away — an institution that symbolised films with relevant social issues has been lost.

When I met him at his office-cum-residential bungalow in Juhu, he was at the new zenith of popularity and success. His first foray into television had caught the imagination of every household in India. On Sunday mornings houses turned into mini cinema halls with every family member sitting glued to the small screen.

“There has never been a greater story teller than Ved Vyaas of the epic Mahabharata. Several films have been made in many Indian languages telling stories of only some portion of the epic. I wanted to give the epic in entirety. Three hours of a film is too short a period to tell the entire story. Films can't become family affairs like TV programmes and I wanted Mahabharata to become a family interaction time,” had explained the tall, gaunt man called B.R. Chopra, the doyen of the Hindi film industry.

This was way back in 1989. Writing an obituary about this doyen who passed away on November 5, and remembering each word and gesture he made then brought back sweet memories of the humble man. There was no ego at all that one associates with one of the most successful producers and directors of the film industry.

Dressed in his trademark off-white silk Safari suit, he had stood up with outstretched hands to welcome this then young journalist who was overawed with meeting the veteran. Sitting behind a huge mahogany desk in a slightly dim-lit office, “I too was a journalist before I got into films,” explained the man, immediately making me feel comfortable and one of the clan.

Baldev Raj Chopra or B.R. Chopra as he was known to all of us was born and brought up in Ludhiana and did his post-graduation in English literature from Lahore University. It was in Lahore that he started his career as a film journalist with the magazine Cine Herald, and later went on to become its editor. And in fact it was in Lahore that his first seed of film-making was sown with the launch of the film Chandni Chowk, but that was when the Partition riots broke out.

“Those were horrendous times. I hope no one goes through that kind of the trauma anywhere in the world again,” recalled Chopraji still shuddering at the memory of the senseless killings.

At the time of my meeting with him, another serial Tamas by Govind Nihalani, which dealt with the Partition and riots, was aired. The serial had Om Puri, the late Deena Pathak, story writer Bhishm Sahni and Saeed Jaffery in it. Referring to the serial Chopra had commented, “The trauma and the horror shown in the serial in no way compared with the real suffering.”

When he shifted to India along with his family and seven siblings he naturally reached out to the world of cinema which he was very conversant with. In fact, after him his entire family got into the world of cinema, partly due to the eldest brother's help. The youngest of the siblings, Yash Raj Chopra, ventured into film direction courtesy B.R. and B.R. Films, a production house set up by Chopra Sr. in 1955. As Yashji has said, “More than an elder brother, he

has always been like a father figure to me.”

Another brother, Dharam Chopra, was a cinematographer while a fourth brother was into distribution. His only son, Ravi Chopra, is into film-making and directed 2003's hit film Baghban starring Amitabh Bachchan and Hema Malini. The story of the film was written by B.R. and it was probably his last story.

One can never club B.R. as a run-of-the-mill film-maker. He always had a different story to narrate. His films never preached but told the happenings of the time and he came in for a lot of criticism. His socially relevant films dealt with issues such as adultery, rape, widow remarriage, growing penchant for a nuclear family lifestyle, etc.

Dilip Kumar mouthed, “Hum kahan aapko machine band karane ke liye bol rahe hain? Aap machine chalaiye, aage barhiye, bus hum gariboon ko saath le kar chaliye ...,” in the 1957 super-hit film Naya Daur starring the thespian and Vyjanthimala. B.R. was not making a remark against industrialisation. He made a plea for humanising industrialisation. Naya Daur was his first super-hit film but sadly when his son Ravi Chopra re-released a coloured version of the film, it bombed.

Chopra was the first film-maker to make a Hindi film without a single song — Kanoon and later Ittefaq. Both films didn't succeed but they were a remarkable experiment at the time. Today, Kanoon, a courtroom-murder drama, is considered a milestone.

B.R. Chopra got a lot of flak when he made Insaaf Ka Tarazu in 1980. That was time  when ripples were seen on the electronic  media about rape being recognised as a  heinous crime. Tarazu was a very sensitive  documentation of the trauma of a victim (played by Zeenat Aman) and her tormentor (Raj Babbar). It shocked the people but it  also alerted them.

B.R. got a lot of flak when he made Insaaf Ka Tarazu in 1980. That was time when ripples were seen on the electronic media about rape being recognised as a heinous crime. Tarazu was a very sensitive documentation of the trauma of a victim (played by Zeenat Aman) and her tormentor (Raj Babbar). It shocked people but it also alerted them.

Even his first film directed and produced by B.R. Films, Aik Hi Raasta, (1956) was a story of widow remarriage. His next venture, Sadhana, which he directed and produced dealt with another social issue — rehabilitation of a prostitute. B.R. recognised another social happening — adultery — way back in the 1960s and made films on the theme such as Gumrah (1963) and Humraaz (1967).

Under his banner several films were made including Yashji's first film, Dhool Ka Phool, and the first opulent film, Waqt. Amitabh Bachchan began his ties with the Chopra parivar with the film Zameer and he has almost become the main stay of the family. He starred in Mazdoor, Babul, The Burning Train, Baghbaan and also Bhootnath.

On his demise, Bachchan who was out of town on that day said in an interview, “He was a pillar of the industry. We've lost a stalwart. Sadly there's a complete absence of all social relevance in today's cinema. Chopra Sahib always remained steadfast in his belief that cinema has to have a special message.”

 THE LAHORE CONNECTION

The day was November 29, 1943; the location was the Town Hall, Lahore and the occasion was a big garden party with the then Finance Minister of Punjab, Sir Manohar Lal as the chief guest and more than 700 invitees from all walks of life, including the office bearers of the newly formed Punjab Film Journal's Association.

Among them were the General Secretary of the Association, Syed Attaullah Shah Hashimi who edited the monthly Adakaar; Lala Karam Chand, editor of the film journal Paras, famous poets Qamar Jalalabadi and Ramanand Sagar, and a tall young man in his late 20s introduced as Baldev Raj Chopra. At the time he was a proud Ravian and held a Master's degree in English Literature, but people knew him through his highly critical and fearless film reviews published regularly in the monthly Cine Herald, a leading film magazine of Lahore in the 1930s and '40s.

It's interesting to note that in pre-Partition days more than 20 film journals were published regularly from Lahore

both in English and Urdu languages. They included Movie Flash, Film Pictorial, Screen World, Motion Pictures, Cinema, Movie Critic, Star, Movies, Chitra, Paras, Khayyam, Evening News and, of course, Cine Herald. Considering the fact that Lahore was the only film-producing centre in Northern India, the figure of 20 film magazines shouldn't come as a surprise.

At the time of Partition, six film studios were churning out movies to feed cinema houses all over India, more than 20 of them in Lahore alone. Most of the artistes, musicians, writers, directors, producers and distributors were non-Muslims and had to leave Lahore amidst communal violence and furious bloodshed. A Govt. College graduate, Buldev Raj Chopra couldn't even think of separating from his beloved city of Lahore, but then a mob attacked his house and he had to run for dear life. He had no idea at the time that this migration was a blessing in disguise because he would have ended up a senior film journalist like Yaseen Gureja had he stayed on in Lahore. In Bombay and in due time he was to become a film mogul.

In 1996, when he had already become the most revered film icon of India with 28 great movies to his credit, he still remembered Lahore as a separated beloved and wanted to be at the place of his childhood and youth once again.

Some twelve years ago Parvez Rahi, a veteran film journalist of Lahore, wrote to him for some information that he needed for his book, The Film History of Punjab. B.R. Chopra's joy knew no bounds on receiving a message from Lahore and he instantly wrote back “Your letter brought the springtime perfume from Lahore the nostalgic memories of my childhood and youth. How I wish the two separated brothers could live like friends at least.”

The letter also gives some valuable information about his life in Lahore “We were in Gwalmandi up to 1930 and then moved to Chauburji where my father had a government bungalow. After M.A. from Govt. College, my father was transferred to Amritsar. I stayed on in Lahore to finish my preparations for I.C.S. In fact, when I joined Cine Herald, I used to come daily from Amritsar and this continued for some time after which we shifted to McLagan Road. My office was at McLeod Road from where we published Cine Herald till 1947 when we were pushed out of Lahore.”

Chopra was much excited to learn about a book that would ...“show glimpses of the pre-Partition film industry when the two communities lived like brothers.” B.R. Chopra goes on to say in his letter “In fact the political atmosphere at Lahore in those days was so friendly that one never expected it to be part of this unfortunate separation.” He would always cherish the memory of “the glorious period of Lahore when, led by Pancholi, it became the centre of film production and gave great directors like Shaukat Hussain Rizvi, music directors like Ghulam Haidar and Amarnath and artistes like Pran, Noor Jehan, Manorma, Mumtaz Shanti and writers like

Madhok, Walli, Qamar Jalalabadi and above all producers like Shorey and Pancholi.”

Towards the end of his letter, he says, “Maybe I am able after all to come to Lahore one day...” Alas, it was not to

be and B.R. Chopra left us in the morning of November 5. — Arif Waqar