The Punjabi contribution to cinema - III

Beautiful Punjabi men and women headed towards Bombay and Calcutta because in the formative years, the Lahore film industry had limited capital and essentially produced Punjabi language films which had limited outreach. Villains, character actors, comedians, bit actors, story writers, script writers, song writers, music directors, directors, producers, filmmakers and studio owners from the Punjab - all those who sought employment opportunities and nurtured ambitions to make a name for themselves at the all-India level - headed towards Bombay and Calcutta. As mentioned earlier, the advantage they enjoyed over other nationalities from South Asia was their Urdu-Hindi (Hindustani) language skill. The competition they faced was from Urdu- and Hindi-speakers of northern India, Bihar and the princely state of Hyderabad in southern India. Veteran film journalists Pervaiz Rahi and Yasin Goreja have written excellent accounts of the history of Lahore cinema. Inevitably their books provide very interesting leads to the linkages between Lahore, Bombay and Calcutta.

Pervaiz Rahi’s book, Mian Abdur Rashid Kardar, sheds considerable light on the contribution of the giant of the film industry. Kardar belonged to the noted Arain clan of zaildars with their traditional haveli in the Bhaati Gate area of Lahore. Kardar (1904–1989) married the heroine of his film Qatil Katar, Bahar Akhtar in 1930. Bahar Akthar was the elder sister of the more famous Sardar Akhtar, who distinguished herself playing a fisherwoman in Sohrab Modi’s classic Pukar (1939) which epitomises the Congress-inspired interpretation of history and is a eulogy to Emperor Jahangir’s high standards of justice.

Punjabis in the film industry competed with Urdu- and Hindi-speakers of northern India, Bihar and Hyderabad

It was Kardar’s second marriage. It caused consternation not only in his own family but that of Bahar Akhtar as well and he was dragged into a court case by her family but was acquitted after she told the court that she had willing married him. At any rate, the film was halted and the negatives burnt. Kardar left Lahore and joined the East India Film Company in Calcutta. He took with him his friends from Lahore: character actor M. Ismail and veteran heroes Nazir, Hiralal, Fazal Shah and Gul Hameed. Rahi has recently written a book, Agha Hashar Kashmiri aur Mukhtar Begum, on the famous singer and stage actress (and later film heroine) Mukhtar Begum (elder sister of Farida Khanum). Mukhtar Begum belonged to Amritsar and was married to Agha Hashar Kaashmiri, fondly remembered as the father of stage drama and as India’s Shakespeare. She played heroine in several films of East India Film Company and was instrumental in getting Kardar his job as a director. Kardar’s Aurat ka Pyaar was a super hit. However, the company collapsed and Kardar moved to Bombay, where he eventually established Kardar Studios. He went on to make some all-time popular films such as Shah Jahan in which the famed K. L. Saigal played his last role before his death in January 1947. Other outstanding films by Kardar were Dard (1947), Dulari (1949), Dillagi (1949) and Dastan (1950), in which he collaborated with music director Naushad. Suraiya, Geeta Bali, Hiralal, Shyam, Suresh (Nasim Ahmad born in Qadian, Punjab) and singers Mohammad Rafi and Shamshad Begum - all from Lahore or with a Lahori connection - were part of his team. He also relied on Lata Mangeshkar and later worked with music director C. Ramchandra. Talat Mahmood sang for him too.

Kardar’s aura as a director did not last, however. He eventually faded into oblivion, more or less. His last noted film was Dil Diya Dard Liya (1966). Dilip Kumar acted in it. On the whole, Kardar’s presence in Bombay helped to establish a large Lahori group of big and small actors, directors and music personalities. Among them was Kardar’s assistant, fellow Bhaati Gate resident M. Sadiq of Chaudhvin ka Chand (1960) fame. M. Sadiq migrated to Pakistan in 1970 but died soon afterwards. I have tried in vain to trace his son, who I heard has a shop on Jail Road, Lahore.

The second great Punjabi who first went to Calcutta and then moved to Bombay was writer, lyricist, director and filmmaker Kidar Sharma (1910 - 1999). Sharma was born in a poor Brahmin family of Narowal, district Sialkot, but grew up in Amritsar. His biography by his son Dr. Vikram Sharma, The One and Lonely Kidar Sharma, makes for very interesting reading for anyone wanting to learn about the struggle of an extraordinarily gifted man to find a foothold in the film industry. Initially he faced great difficulties in finding work in Calcutta but then he met Prithviraj Kapoor, who had left Bombay and set up a home in Calcutta. Prithviraj took him to another Punjabi, the one and only maestro Kundan Lal. It was through their auspices that Kidar Sharma finally started working for films. He wrote songs and scripts - and directed them too.  His greatest film while based in Calcutta was Devdas (1936) starring K. L. Saigal in the role of Devdas. Later, Dilip and Shahrukh Khan were to play the same role. At Bombay, Kidar Sharma wrote the script and songs for Tansen starring Saigal and Khurshid (Irshad Begum from Chunian, Lahore district). Its music even now fascinates listeners, as Khemchand Prakash used ragas and raginis with great mastery to compose some great songs. Sharma’s absolute masterpiece was undoubtedly Jogan (1950), starring Nargis and Dilip Kumar, with Rajendra Kumar making a short appearance as well. Nargis was to say later that it was one of her best films. In Baware Nain (1950), starring Geeta Bali and Raj Kapoor, the cast and unit was dominated by Punjabis. Music director Roshan composed some of his best songs in that film. In particular, Mukesh’s Teri dunya mein dil lagta nahin became a raging hit. Many years later, Mubarak Begum was to render an outstanding song of his - Kabhi tunhaiyon mein uu tumhari yaad aye gee. It is said that at first Lata Mangeshkar was supposed to sing it, but she found it too difficult and then Mubarak Begum sang it and created magic. Kidar Sharma always maintained high standards - his work was acclaimed by peers as being most artistic and original.

Another Punjabi who rose to stardom soon after the advent of talking-pictures was the singer and actor K. L. Saigal (1904-1947). In a forthcoming article in this series on Punjabi singers who shone in Bombay and Calcutta, we will devote much more space to his inimitable contribution. It was the era of singer-heroes and so he provided some superb acting, but his forte was his singing ability.

No article on Punjabi pioneers of cinema at Bombay and Calcutta would be complete without highlighting the magnificent contribution of Prithviraj Kapoor (1906-1972). The Kapoors’ family hometown was Peshawar, but Prithviraj spent much of his childhood in Samundri, West Punjab, where his grandfather owned land. Only recently the Pakistani media reported that the current owner of the house had begun to dismantle that haveli because he asserts that it is in such a bad condition that it could collapse any moment. However, the Khyber-Pakhtunkawa government has declared it a national monument and a court order has been moved to stop further demolition work. This should be celebrated by all of us who are acutely aware of Prithivrai’s contribution to stage drama and films. A committed follower of Mahatma Gandhi and a believer in the indivisibility of the Indian subcontinent, his plays Pathan and Dewar were shown for years in Bombay and he would tour India with his huge entourage of actors, technicians, cooks and so on. Yasin Goreja in his book Laxshmi Chowk does point out correctly that Prithviraj’s play Dewar was critical of the Two Nation Theory and Jinnah but the same man was always active in Bombay and elsewhere protesting communal riots and pleading for the Muslims of India not being targeted and victimised. As a nominated member of the Indian upper house of parliament, the Rajya Sabha, Prithviraj pioneered a bill for the abolition of the death penalty.

In any case, when it comes to films, Prithviraj worked both in Bombay and Calcutta and made some memorable films. His career started with the era of silent films and went on into the early 1970s. He played Alexander the Great in Sikander (1941); Judge Ragunath in Awara (1952); and Akbar the Great in Mughul-e-Azam (1960). I personally think his role as as Justice Ragunath in his illustrious son Raj Kapoor’s magnum opus Awara was his greatest acting feat. I saw Awara first in 1962 and then went on to see it 24 times more - on one occasion every matinee show for a week until my pocket money for that month was all spent. That infatuation was disrupted visually when India and Pakistan went to war in 1965 and Indian films could no longer be shown in Pakistani theatres. The idealism of the film, that nobody is born evil or low and we are all largely - if not wholly - a product of circumstances quite beyond our control, was a message that went to my heart readily although I now realise that class barriers can successfully be overcome only in films and never (or rarely) in real life. Prithviraj played the ultra-conservative, stone-hearted judge who abandons his pregnant wife merely on a suspicion to protect his false sense of honour and vanity. The story was written by Khawaja Ahmed Abbas and V. P. Sathe.

Kardar's presence in Bombay helped to establish a large Lahori group of actors, directors and musicians

Then something happened which brought back Prithviraj into my life. During the summer holidays of 1972, a friend Khalid Mahmood and I decided to pay a surprise visit to another friend, Rana Afzal, who hailed from Gojra - a small town close to Lyallpur (Faisalabad). We arrived in Gojra via Samundri on a hot afternoon and Rana Afzal was indeed the perfect host.

At 1.30 pm, All-India Radio’s Hindi service announced a recorded interview with Prithviraj (he had died a few weeks earlier, but we did not know that). To my great surprise Prithviraj began by talking about his childhood in Samundri and particularly mentioned Hameed Pehalwan with whom he spent much time. He also talked about Peshawar a great deal.

Prithviraj Kapoor criticised the Two-Nation Theory but protested communal riots and stood with Indian Muslims

It was a strange coincidence that Khalid and I had just been in Samundri, perhaps only an hour earlier, where the bus stopped to drop and pick up passengers. To hear someone talk about Samundri from his deathbed thousands of kilometres away in Mumbai was a very moving experience. The irony could not be ignored that we had gone past Samundri, a small hamlet, for the first time in our life, without even having a good look at that rustic community which Prithviraj could not visit after 1947 - although he longed for it until his last moments. It captured the tragedy of Partition. Irrespective of whether it was good or bad politically, it shattered the lives of millions of ordinary human beings. Rana Afzal and Khalid Mahmood belonged to refugee families from East Punjab. Their elders also talked about their lost homes, so the Punjabi trauma had hit all communities devastatingly.

In Stockholm I met Riaz Cheema and we became close friends. The Kapoor saga connected with him too. His maternal uncle Chaudhry Naimatullah and Prithviraj were classfellows first in Edwards College, Peshawar, and later at Law College, Lahore. Both were very keen sportsmen.

Filmmaker Kidar Sharma, scion of Narowal in Punjab

On one occasion, Naimatullah answered the roll-call in a class at Law College when Prithviraj was playing truant but the teacher immediately sensed that the latter was absent. Both Naimatullah and Prithviraj continued to exchange letters long after Partition.

One day in 1986 I had gone to rent video-films from the Bhatti Brothers in our locality of Sollentuna. There I glanced through the latest issue of Star Dust in which an interview with Raj Kapoor had been published. It began with Raj saying that his family was originally from “Samundru”.  I knew Samundri had been mis-spelt as “Samundru”, but it gave me an excuse to write to him. On May 7, 1986 I wrote to Raj in which I mentioned my visit to Gojra in 1972, which had taken me past Samundri and how it coincided with his father reminiscing about his childhood there on All-India Radio. A prompt reply dated May 12, 1986, written on RK Films & Studios official letter-pad, arrived. Raj Kapoor told me that his family hailed originally from Peshawar, but his grandfather retired as Tahsildar from Samundri and settled there. He thanked me for sharing with him my craze for Awara. He then spelled out his vision of the future:

“My conviction is that Humanity ultimately will have to have one religion which shall be based on love, non-violence and deep understanding of ethical values. Sooner or later the geographical and religious barriers will vanish and a new era will begin, the era of love, hope and humanism.”

This idea found expression in RK films’ Henna, which preached India-Pakistan concord. We await its realisation in the world outside films.

Dr. Ishtiaq Ahmed is Professor Emeritus of Political Science at Stockholm University, Visiting Professor at Government College University and Honorary Senior Fellow at the Institute of South Asian Studies, National University of Singapore