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Cinema
Re-Evaluating Gulshan
Nanda
In the context of Hindi Cinema
by Satish Chandra Singh
This write up is an outcome of a series of discussions between myself
and Mr. Tejinder Sharma (hereafter Tejbhai), the noted UK based Hindi
writer and poet, involving the lyrics and stories of Hindi films. I must
admit, even if with grudging envy, that Tejbhai’s knowledge on every
aspect of Hindi cinema – writing, lyrics, music, direction,
cinematography, awards and so on – is of encyclopedic proportions.
Interestingly, while we do not disagree on the quality of so many films,
their plots, the lyrics of their songs and the music composition, we
find ourselves at opposite ends when Tejbhai argues that both the lyrics
of ‘good’ film songs and ‘good’ stories should be recognized as formal
literature. I have held the opinion that because the purpose and the
context of the film writing – lyrics as well as stories – are different
from those of literature and because the lyricist and the writer are
severely constrained – and motivated as well – by the commercial
considerations, we should let them stay in their own compartment.
Incidentally, in spite of my genuine regard for Tejbhai I have not been
able to bring myself to agree with the views held by him.
One of the names associated with Hindi cinema, which has surfaced in
many of our discussions is that of Gulshan Nanda (GN). The name of
Gulshan Nanda first dropped in as a subject for discussions when, in
2004, during the course of an informal conversation with Vibhuti Narayan
Rai, the winner of the 2004 Indu Sharma Katha Samman, Tejbhai suggested
that Gulshan Nanda should be introduced in the curriculum if Hindi had
to gain wider acceptance and popularity. Incidentally, as the
discussions were directly between Tejbhai and Mr. Rai, I preferred not
to ventilate my own thoughts on the subject. However, my spontaneous
position on the subject would have been that it was unpalatable that
Gulshan Nanda should be taught as a benchmark Hindi writer if the
language had to be popularized. Tejbhai had his own arguments – and with
some original conviction too – for the idea. I would never concede,
though, that Hindi needed to be apologetic and willing to lower the bar
for making itself acceptable. I am not sure if similar demands would
have been made on other languages like, say, Russian or Chinese and they
would have conceded. Tejbhai has a valid point in that there should be a
special, lightweight, reading package for the uninitiated, school-going
children to stimulate interest in reading. Nobody will argue against the
view that young children should not be straightaway exposed to the heavy
stuff of Mohan Rakesh or Hajari Prasad Dwivedi. But the ‘special
stimulating package’, to my mind, must not have Gulshan Nanda. I am not
going further on what should the curriculum have because the subject of
discussion is GN.
Recently GN’s name came up once again (through Tejbhai, of course), in a
different context – that of Hindi movies. In one of our
family-evenings-together, Tejbhai asked if I was aware that Gulshan
Nanda was the only Hindi writer on whose novels many successful films
had been made. It would not have been difficult to concede that GN was a
very, probably one of the most, ‘successful’ writers from the point of
view of Hindi cinema. But the point Tejbhai was trying to drive home
went far beyond that. Some of the questions he asked were: Why is it so
that it is only GN on whose novels successful films were made? Why did
the writings of other Hindi writers failed to be adapted for cinema ?
Does this not mean that there was something deficient about the Hindi
literature in general? How come there have been great movies based on
‘Vanity Fair’, ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and ‘Great Expectations’? Could I
cite similar examples for Hindi writings? Does it not prove that with
the exception of GN all Hindi literature is unsuitable for cinema
adaptation? Well, Tejbhai could go on and on with his line of thought
which I was at variance with. Even so, the discussion did give some food
for thought and provoked me into introspective self examination.
Was I being unfair to Gulshan Nanda, a popular and probably the most
sold writer of his time, because I had a supercilious arrogance about my
taste? As a matter of fact I have read most, if not all, of Gulshan
Nanda’s writings. I must admit, too, that I enjoyed reading them. Why
then this dichotomy? Besides, I am sure that I was not alone in doing
so. In fact there used to be an informal club of GN readers in my
surroundings. People used to circulate and share the GN books among
their friends. The overwhelming popularity of GN was most visible when I
used to be in my village during the summer vacations of our schools and
colleges. The GN novels used to be the best company for the summer
afternoons when the weather conditions would force people to stay
indoors or in the cool mango orchards. Then, when back in the school or
college, GN would be a taboo to be discussed in the formal academic
conversation. But this did not apply to GN alone. In fact, GN was
representative of the ‘pocket book’ writers all of whom were banned from
the formal academic discourse. I recall how prohibitive my parents (and
those of my friends as well) used to be about reading pocket books in
general. Without going into the plusses and minuses of prohibitive
parenthood, the disapproval of the type of writing represented by GN was
not out of any malice. The parents sincerely believed that this was not
a healthy genre of writing for their children with tender, unformatted
psyche. This proscription was generally applied to the children only but
was not viewed with any respect for the adults either. All these
restrictions, however, made it more thrilling to engineer clandestine
moves to obtain and read these books.
That is how GN has been traditionally viewed? He represented a ‘type’ of
literature which was neither published nor even sold alongside the
‘proper’ literature. The most common outlet for GN and his fraternity
used to be the bookstall at a bus or railway station. One could see GN
on their shelves alongside Prem Bajpai, Rajvansh, Kushwaha Kant, Ranu
etc, but outnumbering them in number of volumes. GN was the unrivalled
leader of the pack. In his time he was always chased by the publishers
of pocket books with attractive amounts. Of one of his novels, ‘Jheel Ke
Us Paar’, it was claimed, half a million copies were sold. This claim,
of course, was not verified and, in all probability, was
disproportionately exaggerated. But even after a discount for
exaggeration, the novel created a storm in the pocket book world. If
borrowing a pocket book from a friend, a committed GN fan would accept a
book by Ranu or Rajvansh only if GN was not available. Where did GN
excel over the others? He was more skilled, and hence more entertaining,
than the others. Unless we concede that the purpose and the value of
literature lies solely in entertainment, GN’s admirers – myself included
– will have to accept that He belonged with Ranu, Rajvansh and Prem
Bajpai, not with Dharmavir Bharati and Amritlal Nagar. I do not believe
that I am trying to belittle what GN achieved as a writer. He was an
entertainer par excellence, and that is all.
The irony with the solely-entertainment-oriented writing is that it has
a very poor longevity as it only caters to the contemporary taste, which
varies from generation to generation. If GN was the darling of the
1960s, the70s and part of the 80s, he was replaced by other, more
contemporary, ‘brands’ thereafter. The current generation and those
thereafter will not see a ‘new edition’ or a reprint of GN, nor of his
contemporary pocket book writers. However, it is through another, longer
living, medium – that of Hindi cinema – that GN lives on. I intend to do
some in-depth analysis of this aspect of GN. In fact, it was primarily
the subject of GN’s writings’ convertibility into cinema that prompted
me to write this piece.
The first thing I want to say on this is that printed writing and cinema
are two altogether different mediums and it would be absolutely unfair
to evaluate a writing on the basis of its adaptability for the cinema
medium. A film is – first and foremost – a business project with a huge
investment. A film director is the ‘keyman’ and the leader of a project
team striving to ensure the commercial success of the project and has to
remain focused at this objective. The end product may achieve more than
that – rave reviews, awards, a lasting place in the history of cinema
and so on – but the commercial success is the most important objective
of the project. A piece of writing – a story, a novel, a play or a poem
– is a project as well, but with fundamental differences. The writer is
the ‘keyman’, the one man team and the sole owner of the project. He is
not constrained as much by the need for instant success, as a cinema
director is. He does want to succeed, but his success is not to be
measured in as short a term (first couple of shows deliver the verdict
about the commercial success of a cinema), nor does he expect instant
monetary returns like somebody financing a cinema. The storywriter of a
film contributes only one ingredient of the recipe – albeit the key
ingredient and the starting point – and the rest of the crew does many
rounds of embellishment before it comes out as a finished product.
Why do the Bollywood directors not pick up the writings of Premchand,
Dwivedi, Dharmveer Bharati or Amritlal Nagar for the plots of their
films? Quite simply because they realize it would be too big an ask.
Some of them who have tried films on great literary writings – like
Godan or Chitralekha – have come out with disasters, commercially as
well as qualitatively. So, it is the ability of the director which would
determine whether a celebrated piece of literary writing could be
converted into a film. The greater the writing, the greater would be the
degree of accomplishment required for its cinema-adaptation.
‘Adaptation’ is the keyword. It is like converting something from one
medium to another. In the printed version the writer is ever-present,
and is constantly communicating with the reader, as the narrator. In the
audio-visual medium the Director does not have the luxury of the
narrative and has to create the impact through dialogues and acting. The
‘screenplay’ is supposed to facilitate the adaptation filling in for the
narrative. I am not sure how many of the run-of-mill Bollywood
scriptwriters would be able to convert a Premchand or a Dwivedi novel
into a screenplay. And they are aware of that. So, they try to steer
clear of such daunting tasks. More so because even if they are able to
measure up to the task, it may not be commercially successful. Even if
they create something extraordinary, they would know that the appeal
would be restricted to the ‘classes’ whereas for commercial success they
would have to win over the masses. The commercial failure of ‘Teesari
Kasam’ would prove the point. So, they stay in the known territory where
they have always been. They would rather think of another way for
separating the brothers in Kumbh, and another one for reuniting them as
well.
Before I return back to GN, I would discuss one or two films which, I
believe, are good examples of cinema-adaptation of stories. But while
the story is the beginning point, the film version is very much the
director’s own creation, own brain-child. One such example is ‘Shatranj
Ke Khiladi’. Without compromising the spirit of the original story,
Satyajit Ray has converted a short story into a feature film. Those who
have read the story know that there are only two characters – Mirza
Sajjad Ali and Mir Roshan Ali – in the story and there are only indirect
references of all other characters like the Nawab, The East India
Company, the supposed lover of the Begum Roshan Ali and so on. Ray has
introduced so many more characters in the film but they all are so true
to the pre-mutiny Lucknow which was in the background of Munshi
Premchand’s story. Still, while the story was Munshi Premchand’s, the
film version was undeniably Ray’s. He came out with a masterpiece of his
own. Unfortunately we do not have many Rays around in the world of Hindi
cinema. Outside of Bollywood, we can take the example of Baz Luhrmann’s
film based on Shakespeare’s play ‘Romeo and Juliet’(1996), Starring
Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes in the title roles, Luhrmann gave the
famous tale a modern setting. This radical interpretation of the play
was not universally appreciated by filmgoers, but its art direction and
cinematography are undeniably impressive. At the Berlin International
Film Festival 1997, it won Best Actor (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Alfred
Bauer Prize. It also got nominated for Academy Awards 1996 in two
categories. However, once the film is viewed only as ‘inspired’ by the
play rather than based on it, few would argue against it being a very
good film. I think one of the reasons why ‘Teesari Kassam’ could not
achieve commercial success was that in being ‘too true to the story’,
Basu Bhattacharya became oblivious of the peculiar demands of the cinema
audience.
Coming back to GN, let me first of all discuss GN’s success and
achievements as a film writer. His first association with cinema was
with a not-so-spectacular ‘Punarjanma’, released in 1963, a Telugu film
based on GN’s story. This association continued for over two decades and
the last film written by him was ‘Bindia Chamkegi’ (1984), only a year
before his death in 1985. I believe GN was associated with at least
around twenty films in a span of twenty years. For some of these films
GN wrote stories or screenplays, while some were based on his
pre-published novels. GN worked with some of the best known and widely
respected banners and directors in Hindi cinema – L.V.Prasad, Ram
Maheshwari, Shakti Samanta, Subodh Mukherjee, Yash Chopra and Chetan
Anand. Many of the films written by him (directly or through his novels)
were not only hugely successful commercially, but are also remembered as
all time great films. Let us look at some of the names in the list –
Kaajal, Neel Makal, Kati Patang, Patthar Ke Sanam, Sharmilee, Ajnabee,
Khilona, Hanste Zakhm, Jheel Ke Uss Paar – and one is awestruck with
admiration. These were all very successful examples of what has been
typically known as ‘PARIWARIK FILM’ – the genre of films, very popular
in the 1960s and 70s, which the entire family could watch together.
These films had absorbing plots and were benchmarks for healthy
entertainment. In the years of their release these films won many
Filmfare awards, and many more nominations. I am sure even those who are
champions of the ‘parallel cinema’ – the type represented by Shyam
Benegal, Mrinal Sen and Adoor Gopalakrishnan – will have to concede,
albeit grudgingly, that these film represented healthy family
entertainment.
That conceded, the degree of contribution made by GN in each one of the
films was not uniform. In fact, I believe, a film is a complete package
rolled out by the director on a multi-wheeled chariot. I will take two
examples of very successful films with which GN was associated. The
first one is ‘Kaajal’(1965), for which GN wrote the story. The GN factor
is not very significant in the overall package of this film. Let us try
to separate the story element from the overall impact of the film. The
story of the film can be summed up in less than a page. In this case the
finished product is more significantly contributed by the scriptwriter
Phani Majumdar and the dialogue writer Kidar Sharma. Then there is the
sublime poetry of Sahir rendered into memorable tunes by Ravi. The other
components are an impressive star cast, most of whom have given
memorable performances. Let us analyze what lies behind the impact of
the melodramatic character of Moti Babu, played by Rajkumar. It is a
combined outcome of so many factors. The portrayal of the character, as
conceived by the scriptwriter, straightaway hits the pulse of the
audience. Now, as the film-world works, the director would select the
actors on the basis of the outline characterization in the story. Once
the selection is made, the scriptwriter has to tailor the script to
match the actor. As we all know, the audience has an image of an
established star inscribed in their minds. So, Rajkumar was an ideal
selection for a ‘sharabi’ and ‘randibaz’. The dialogue writer has to be
in sync with the scriptwriter’s creation. Remember the famous ‘Waqt’
line:’… jinke apne ghar sheeshe ke hote hain woh doosron ke gharon me
patthar nahin phenkte.’ ‘Kaajal’ has something similar in:’Agar tumne
hamare saath achha sulook kiya hota to hum tumhe apne paas baithakar
whisky pilate, mujara sunawate.’ Isn’t it typically tailored for
Rajkumar? In my opinion, the contribution of Sahir – coupled with those
of Ravi and Mohd. Rafi – is no less significant in developing the
character of Moti Babu. The song ‘yeh zulf agar khul ke’, which has been
pictures in staggered pieces does not have many parallels. In fact, the
quality of the music is one of the key components behind the success of
the film. All these resources, along with the performance by the actors,
have been marshaled and synthesized by the director with appreciable
ability. The GN factor, in this film at least, is one of many good
factors.
The other GN film which I intend to discuss is ‘Khilona’ and I believe
that the GN factor is the pivotal one in this film. This film was based
on a pre-published novel ‘Patthar Ke Honth’ and the novel did not leave
much work for the scriptwriter. GN made one important change in the
story. In the novel the lunatic hero dies towards the end falling from
the roof while chasing the villain. In the film, in keeping with the
typical Bollywood tradition, the hero regains his sanity and, quite
expectedly, fails to recollect that he has made the heroine pregnant.
The youngest brother makes a dramatic and timely entry. After the
exchange of a few dramatic dialogues, the family accepts the prostitute
as their daughter-in-law and everybody around is very happy. The film
was a landmark in Hindi cinema. It established Sanjeev Kumar as an
intense actor. It also helped discover an able villain in Shatrughan
Sinha. Further, it gave Mumtaz an opportunity to establish herself as an
actress who could be a ‘solo’ heroine in a film. The film was a turning
point in the careers of all the three. GN must get the credit for
creating three characters which brought out three masterpieces of screen
performance. The film was also bold in that a prostitute was accepted
into a respectable family. It was a ‘hard-to-digest’ subject at that
time. Like, ‘Kaajal’, ‘Khilona’ too had good music and lyrics and the
songs became very popular. But the film’s story was very good and the
strong foundation around which the film was constructed. In my opinion,
‘Patthar Ke Honth’ was the closest Gulshan Nanda came to produce a
proper literary writing.
Even so, did the films written by GN bring about or galvanize any
changes in the format or the content of the ‘popular’ cinema? Can anyone
of the GN films said to be falling in the same category as a ‘Vanity
Fair’ or a ‘Pride and Prejudice’? Do these films entitle GN to be
regarded a genuine ‘Sahityakar’? In my opinion the GN stories are no
different from what we usually come across in mainstream Hindi cinema. A
Hindi cinegoer has to banish all logical thinking from his mind and has
to offer his mind to be transported into the realm of bizarre melodrama.
One scene you see (in Kaajal) Dharmendra a prosperous Kunwarji. The next
scene Tiwari discloses that he is not the real son of the family and he
is thrown on the road. Do not trouble your mind with what would be the
legal situation. GN has used the ‘separated-from-the-biological-parents’
twist in another film ‘Patthar Ke Sanam’. Most of his other stories have
melodramatic twists and turns as well. Two identical-looking sisters -
one evil and one innocent (Sharmilee); a reborn beloved haunted by the
spirit of her previous birth’s lover (Neel Kamal) and two lovers re-born
to meet again (Mehbooba) – does it all not sound so typically
Bollywoodish? The Gulshan Nanda differential was not that he wrote or
aspired to write on the subjects which were not familiar to Bollywood.
That differential was created by skilfully trying new permutations and
combinations within the all-too-familiar recipe and making it look
refreshingly new. I firmly believe that GN belongs at the top end of the
spectrum of scriptwriters and storywriters in Hindi film industry but I
would never venture into trying to portray him as a literary
personality.
I do not think it is difficult to understand why his novels were
converted into so many successful and entertaining films. First of all
it would be incorrect to think that GN novels attracted the film
producers in the same way as the works of Tolstoy or Dickens. These
writers’ works were chosen by directors long after their times. GN, on
the other hand, was a film industry insider, one with success and in
demand. He always had the opportunity, and the standing, to offer his
novels to the directors. His works – independently published novels or
stories and screenplays for films – were interspersed and were often
rolled out side by side. I do not find GN’s non-film writing in any
manner different from the stories or screenplays he wrote for the films.
There have been examples of writers and poets – like Dr. Rahi Masoom
Reza or Sahir – who kept their film and non film writings in two
separate compartments. GN was not one of them. Both these names have
attained a stature as literary personalities. It appears GN always had
an eye on the silver-screen while writing a book. Sometimes he did
amendments or changes to the story if required for the film. He changed
the end of his novel ‘Patthar Ke Honth’ for the film ‘Khilona’ to make
it a happy ending story. The story of the film ‘Mehbooba’ was a new
version of his pre-published novel ‘Sisakte Saaz’, in which the
characters of the novel were re-born.
Let us not forget, too, that GN and his contemporaries in the film
industry had a captive audience who did not have any alternative avenues
– like television – for entertainment. His success in the realm of
‘samajik upanayas’ was extended to a similar genre of cinema. His best
and most successful films were dished out before the Amitabh Bachhan
storm swept that type of films away from the centre-stage. GN’s later
films failed to hit the cord with the generation of late 1970s and early
80s who were hooked to the all-conquering action hero.
Having discussed all this, I should answer Tejbhai’s questions. Why is
it so that it is only GN on whose novels successful films were made?
Simply because they were written on the same subjects and in the same
manner that suits Hindi cinema and which could be effortlessly converted
into films. Why did the writings of other Hindi writers failed to be
adapted for cinema ? Partly because we do not have many accomplished and
intellectually equipped film-makers who could convert a ‘Gali Aage Mudti
Hai’ or a ‘Gunahon Ka Devta’ in films to match the level of these
classics. Dr Shiv Prasad Singh or Dr Bhararti did not write their novels
for films. Even Dr Rahi Masoom Reza, an industry insider, would never
expect a Bollywood film-maker to make a film on ‘Aadha Gaon’. Partly
this can be attributed, also, to the demand of the audience which is
more comfortable with what it has been getting.
To conclude I can agree with Tejbhai that as a pocket book writer or as
a story writer for films GN was one of the best ever. But I would never
try to evaluate him as a ‘Sahityakar’ alongside the likes of Dr. Bharati,
Nagar, Premchand or even Dr Reza. I do not think I am, in any manner,
belittling GN. He was good as what he was. He was not what he was not.
April 30, 2006
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Cinema
The Week of April 30, 2006
Nepal
Maoists: The American Connection and More by Rajinder Puri
India's Reservations Controversy by Dr.
Subhash Kapila
America's One Trick Pony of Band-Aid Policies by
Gaurang Bhatt, MD
Is Sonia above Law? by V. Sundaram, IAS (Retd)
The Education Crisis : Private Vs Sarkari by
Usha Kakkar
Charisma Vs Caste by Usha Kakkar
Are you Safe on Network? by Ruchi
Gupta
Women and War by Dr. Prasenjit Maiti
The Rising by Deepti Priya Mehrotra
Human Limitations: Is it possible to overcome
them ? by TA Ramesh
Banishing Poverty & Illiteracy: Instant Solutions
by Swachid K. Rangan
Europe: The Ageing Continent by Mehru Jaffer
Mahabharata – The Harvest of Hatred by Satya
Chaitanya
Are You the Right Man? by Dr. Krishna
Saksena
A Trip to Self Realization by Surjasikha
Ganguli
How to Choose the Right Book for your child?
by Garima Gupta
Hysteric about Headache? by Dr.
Savitha Suri
The Food-Mood Tangle by Neeta Lal
Remembering Zimbabwe of Old by Dr. Amitabh
Mitra
Trip to the rainbow nation South Africa –
Johannesburg by Jayati Chowdhury
Kenya: Killing her Softly for Playing by
Kwamboka Oyaro
Self-made Stithprajna by J. Ajithkumar
When I was Humbled by Arya Bhushan
Jacky's Gruesome Death by P. Mohan Chandran
An Actor and a Cause – Comparison by MH Ahsan
Re-Evaluating Gulshan Nanda by Satish Chandra
Singh
Pyaasi Ghaggar by Kusum Choppra
What makes Rats Perky and Dinosaurs Tardy?
by VK Joshi
Positive Blip on HIV Radar by Nitin Jugran
Bahuguna
If : A book review by G. Swaminathan
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