REVIEW: A poet for all seasons
FIRST and foremost a front-ranking Urdu poet, Gulzar, the multifaceted genius, has worn many hats. A filmmaker of several meaningful and offbeat movies, a brilliant screenplay and dialogue writer whose many lines are etched on the memories of film enthusiasts, Gulzar continues to write songs with strong literary flavour that fit situations in movies like the proverbial glove. But that is not all. Gulzar has made some memorable documentaries and TV serials (the one featuring Naseeruddin Shah as Mirza Ghalib, with Jagjit Singh reciting the master’s ghazals, being the most memorable) written short stories for Urdu literary magazines and stories and ditties for children. His linguistic accomplishments are no less amazing: Punjabi is the tongue he learnt to speak and Urdu the language he read and wrote in, followed by Hindi, English and Bengali. In the Company of a Poet: Gulzar in Conversation With Nasreen Munni Kabir encapsulates the poet’s views on movies and his association with titanic figures. Kabir is no pen-pusher. Few writers know the Hindi film industry as well as this maker of the 46-part serial Movie Mahal for Channel 4 and writer of many books on personalities such as Lata Mangeshkar and Javed Akhtar. The book also looks at Gulzar’s childhood and family. Though born in an enlightened Sikh family, after being uprooted by Partition, Gulzar shaved off his beard and cut his hair short. As his mother died before his first birthday, Gulzar was brought up by his step-mother. When still quite young, his father had taken him to Delhi from Dina, his birthplace, and Gulzar was only able to visit it again after seven decades. His adopted name and his habit of mouthing InshaAllah time and again make Muslims assume he is one of them. His fluency in Bengali gave film-maker K. Asif the feeling that he was from Bengal, until he heard him speak to his poet friend Sukhbir in chaste Punjabi. Saibal Chatterjee’s biography of Gulzar was perhaps the best work on the poet, but it is now quite dated. So is the endearing work on her father by Meghna Gulzar. Much has happened since the books were published seven and eight years ago, which is one reason why Kabir’s work is so well-timed. The writer gets much out of Gulzar, who was christened Sampooran Singh Kalra. But that name has for decades appeared only on his passport and income tax returns. In the Company of a Poet explores Gulzar’s passion for reading and his introduction to Bengali classics, thanks to their Urdu translations (he later translated Tagore into Urdu). We learn how an unwilling Gulzar was packed off to Bombay to live with his elder brother and make a ‘solid career’ for himself. His family was opposed to his profession as a writer and his forays into film. His one big regret in life is that he was not able to meet his father before he died. Kabir includes a moving poem on Gulzar’s relationship with his father, titled “Abboo”: Father – There is much to say that is left unsaid If you were here I would speak. You were so despondent on my account Fearing my poetry would drown me some day I am still afloat, father. No longer have I the desire to return to shore That you left so many years ago. — Translated by Kabir Gulzar expresses the same kind of affection for his mentor film-maker Bimal Roy for whom he wrote his first song and whom he assisted until the great director died. Talking about Roy’s death, Gulzar said, “Losing Bimalda was devastating. I felt as though I had lost my father all over again.” Kabir is able to draw Gulzar into a lively conversation, enabling us to hear about many people, their fads and foibles, and in some cases their eccentricities, particularly those with whom he was and in some cases still is very close. They include composers like Saleel Chowdhury, R.D. Burman (with whom Gulzar had a fruitful professional relationship) and A.R. Rahman and actors like Shammi Kapoor, Sanjeev Kumar, Naseeruddin Shah and Jeetandra. For Dilip Kumar he said that “It was impossible not to like him,” and about Meena Kumari that “She did not become the character; the character would become Meena Kumari. Her personality was always there.” His comments on movies — his and others — should interest enthusiasts of film craft and criticism. On the different approaches to penning poetry and lyrics for a film, Gulzar says, “When I write a poem, I do not have to worry about vocabulary because I know the reader knows Urdu well. But in film lyrics, I avoid Persianised words because they are not widely understood.” A song, he adds, should be in keeping with the character who is supposed to sing it. For instance, he wrote “Goli maar bheje maein, bheja shor karta hai” (Shoot a bullet through the head; it is full of turmoil) for a trigger-happy gangster. “He couldn’t have sung a ghazal,” Gulzar said.