Dr. Rajesh K. Pallan
Meeting and greeting Gulzar from close quarters in the second week of July, 2022 was a dream-come-true for me when I attended an evening concert organized to appreciate and honour him at Roy Thomson Hall in downtown Toronto.
Gulzar’s is a multi-dimensional personality and, decidedly, he is a versatile genius whom I have been admiring since my graduation days when I listened to his sensitive lyric with rapt attention:
“Humne Dekhi Hai Unn Aankhon Ki Mehakatee Khushboo
Haath Se Choo Ke Isse Rishton Kaa Ilzaam Na Do”
Gulzar’s expression “rishton kaa ilzaam” still strikes me deeply and how Gulzar re-creates the image of visualizing the fragrance of eyes, just with a single, subtle stroke of transferring the epithet, still teases me out of thought.
While theorizing about the craft of poetry, Wordsworth feels that “poetry is a spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings” and the poet’s view is amply borne out by Gulzar when the latter recollects his emotions in “tranquillity”.
Koyee Tilsamee Sifat Thi Jo Iss Hajoom Mein Woh
Huye Jo Aankh Se Ojhal To Baar Baar Dikhe
Throughout his chequered career spanning over more than sixty plus years the magic and patina of Indian ethos, Gulzar has rendered through the multiple images which he repeatedly created and re-created in his verses wrapped stylistically and feelingly in the composition of lyrics with finesse and incisiveness:
Ek Samundar Hai Jo Mere Kaaboo Mein Hai
Aur Ek Katraa Hai Jo
Mujhse Sanbhalaa Nahee Jaata
Quite frequently does he use the symbol of the ‘moon’ capturing and conveying its various moods in its waning and waxing in a slow-motion gait. Though the moon has been a symbol of romance and love since times immemorial yet Gulzar has lent multiple dimensions to it by using it kaleidoscopically in almost more than fifty songs.
Gulzar was about 35 years old when Neil Armstrong landed on the moon, and the poet marveled at the flight of the human spirit by this extraordinary achievement. He told us that once Asha Bhonsle told him, “Had the moon been not there, you would not have been able to give vent to your emotions.” Once Gulzar said in a chirpy mood, “I think that I should exercise my claim on the copyright of the moon”.
As soon as Gulzar shimmed in the centre stage of the artistically-designed concert hall, a wave of ecstasy vibrated in the minds of listeners who welcomed him with a standing ovation, and particularly, bowing heads with reverential nods nestled deep down their hearts and minds. With an irradiating ebullience, he responded with folded hands and requested all the audience to be comfortable in their seats. A gesture of rare humility and self-effacement by a genius of Gulzar’s stature and eminence!
Immaculately dressed in his signature crisp, snow-white kurta-pajama with a off-white shawl wrapped around his broad shoulders with a receding hairline and a stubble, Gulzar looked agile, enlivened with an aura akin to a hermit and an emperor, exuding warmth and an edict to turn off the light-bulb which was hitting his frail but piercing bespectacled eyes in the concert hall.
While sitting on a couch in conversation with Rakhshanda Jalil (an able translator of his works), he adjusted the hem of his shawl and recited in his rich and resonant voice, striking the notes of deep-seated scars of sufferings punctuating his vicissitudes of life:
“Madaree Mujhko Khuda Lagtaa Tha
Jab Mein Chhota Tha Tab;
Khuda Mujhe Ab Madaree Lagtaa Hai Jabb Barha Ho Kar
Dekhta Hoon Tamashe Uske”
Gulzar confessed that he used to work in a car garage after migration during partition and painted cars which used to come to garage after their involvement in accidents. He had a penchant for colours and had a knack of mixing and matching different colours giving them a hue of their own.
In order to spend his evenings after working in a car garage, he used to go to book-shop close to the place of his dwelling and borrowed books at a paltry pennies. Gulzar used to read many books for the monthly pittance and the owner of the bookshop got upset as he was not making any profit from Gulzar who gobbled up a host of books in no time. One day, when Gulzar went to borrow another book, the owner loaned him a musty book which was gathering dust in the topmost shelf of his cabinet thinking the book of no consequence.
Gulzar came back with the book and started reading it; this happened to be Rabindra Nath Tagore’s novel The Gardener. And this was “the single, solitary book that created an indelible impression on my sensitive mind. Gulzar I hanged on to the book in the hope that the owner of the book-shop might forget it but, much to my dismay, the owner remembered it and asked for the book and I had to return it with a heavy heart.”
Gulzar said that he read almost all the books by Rabindranath Tagore in no time, and as a matter of fact, he learned Bengali language in order to read and comprehended all the nuances felicities of Tagore’s writings. He read Sarat Chander Chatterjee and a host of other writers like Shakespeare, Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Firaq Gorakhpuri, Dr. Iqbal and Ghalib. For Ghalib, he developed an intense fascination and a pronounced sense of adulation, so much so, that he “nurtured the feeling of considering Ghalib as his elder brother, the most intimate member of his own family.”
Gulzar’s intense immersion, bordering on an almost an obsession for Ghalib, resulted in the first thought of making a movie on Ghalib, but on the second thought, he realized that Ghalib deserved a deeper and a more detailed treatment on a larger canvas which could do justice to the literary giant like Ghalib.
That thought germinated in the making of a serial on Ghalib—the serial lent a desired sweep of imagination and epochal treatment to Ghalib which, once again, highlighted, Guzar’s versatility as a consummate artist.
An oft-quoted dialogue of Naseeruddin Shah while playing the role of Ghalib responding to an interlocutor is that
“Aam to Gadhe Bhee Nahee Khaate.”
In its response, Gulzar demonstrates his wit:
“Gadhe hee to Aam Nahee Khaate!”
While harking back to the making of the serial, Ghalib, Gulzar told the audience that he was toying with the idea of selecting Sanjeev Kumar for the role.
“On a fine morning, I was surprised to receive a letter from a student of St. Stephen College, New Delhi, in which he wrote that
“Your idea of selecting Sanjeev Kumar for playing Ghalib is incongruous with the fact that Ghalib would not look good as a plump man in the character of Sanjeev Kumar. Please let me play that role because only I can play that role, and moreover, I won’t let anybody play that role”.
“And that letter was written by no less a person than Naseer”, Gulzar told referring to Nasseruddin Shah.
In a self-effacing manner (so akin to Gulzar), Gulzar declared:
“The credit for making Ghalib serial a resounding success goes to three artists —Naseerddin Shah, Jagjit Singh and Ghalib himself”.
His views about Lata Mangeshkar:
“She was inimitable; Only Lata could be a reflection of Lata: nobody can dare imitate her and, moreover, no creative person should try to model his/her life on others. Each and every person has his/her own personality, which is unique and, therefore, we should not attempt to clone others in creativity.”
He asserted that a cosmopolitan city like Bombay does not belong any one more like the beggar does while squatting on a footpath.”
While deliberating on Covid-19 in the concert, he recited a very touching poem in which had a reason to lament what man had made of man; the poem jolted the audience to recognition of their own foibles and faults in the event of wholesale migration of labourers—the return of the native—who were stranded and left at the mercy of forces beyond their control, leaving them in the lurch, returning barefoot to their native land:
“Marenge To Waheen Jaa Kar
Yahaan Par Zindagi Hai
Yahaan to Jism Laa Kar Plug lagaye the
Nikale Plug Sabhee Ne
Chalo Ab Ghar Chalein
Aur chal Diye Sabh”
Gulzar also regretted about his missing of playing the game of tennis which he has been practicing since long.
In a response to a query, Gulzar averred that no writing can be complete if it does not zero in on “social consciousness” and no writer can be called great if he does not feel the pulse of his contemporary times”.
On being asked of his intimate lady-love when he was six years old about which he once wrote:
“Who Larrki Mujhe Ab Bhi Yaad Aatee Hai”,
Gulzar expressed the intricacies of relationships, the convexities and concavities of the montage of friendships which neither time cannot wither nor custom can stale. That reminds me of the salient lines of his oft-quoted lyric:
Haath Chhūteñ Bhī To Rishte Nahīñ Chhorrā Karte
Waqt Kī Shāaḳh Se Lamhe Nahīñ Torra Karte
And
Zindagi Tere Gham Ne Hamein
Rishte Naye Samajhaye
Mile Jo Hamein Dhoop Mein Mile
Chaanv Ke Thande Saaye
In a stunningly thought-provoking movie “Masoom”, Gulzar has penned a meaningful lyric “Tujhse Naaraz Nahiin Zindagi” in which he writes about the debt one has to pay for smiling:
Jeene Ke Liye Sochaa Hi Nahi
Dard Sambhaalane Honge
Muskuraaye To Muskuraane Ke
Karz Utarne Honge
Ho Muskurauun Kabhii To Lagataa Hai
Jaise Honthon Pe Karz Rakha Hai
When asked about the pangs of partition in his poetry, Gulzar categorically maintained that the deep scars of partition days still appear in his dreams; “still the dead bodies splattered in blood —unrecognizable and undocumented— float in my mind’s eye and have been my nightmares since long”.
Gulzar’s assertion is reminiscent of his earlier volumes—Footprints on Zero Line—Writings on the Partition which he so faithfully dedicated to, “Dina, My birthplace in Pakistan”. To quote Gulzar:
“I have witnessed the partition and experienced it all. Standing on Zero Line, I am still watching the trail of partition. …Time has not been able to blow off the footprints. I don’t know how long it will take for them to sink into history and be the past”.
So brilliantly does he write about his cosmopolitan approach in this nazm:
“Aankho Ko Visa Nahee Lagtaa
Sapno Kee Sarhad Nahee Hotee”
Not that Gulzar is not aware of the paradigm shift which is happening nowadays; he regretfully mentions that the people have been weaned away from books as such, instead they have started leaning heavily on computers to access them which has usurped the prime place of permanence of books as such:
Kitabein Jhankti Hain Band Almaari Kay Sheeshon Se
Barhi Hasrat Se Takti Hain
Maheeno Ab Mulaaqat Nahi Hoti
Jo Shameein In Ki Sohbat Mein Kataa Kartee Thein, Ab Aksar
Guzar Jati Hain Computer Kay Pardon Par
Barhi Bechain Rehti Hain Kitabein
Unhe Ab Neend Mein Chalne Ki Aadat Ho Gayee Hai
While reading his lyrics, one is carried away by the sweep and subtlety of his imagination and the way he inspirits the idea through a unique vehicle of expression studded with similes and metaphors. Not unlike Wordsworth, Gulzar feels that poetry is all about imagery and is ‘a selection of words’. What he achieves so effortlessly is the patent proof of his creativity:
Phoolon Ki Tarah Lab Khol Kabhi
Khushbu Ki Zabaan Mein Bol Kabhi
Again, only Gulzar could write that “Teri Baaton Mein Kimaam Ki Khushbu Hai”; otherwise a pedestrian expression could have been ‘Teri Saanson Mein Kimaam Ki Khushbu Hai’; herein lies his sui generis expression.
His debut as a lyricist in the movie, Bandini, also lends credence to this assertion of uniqueness where Gulzar describes the mating of two bodies as well as the meeting of two souls through simple but powerful imagery of “shaam rang” and “gora rang”:
“Mera Gora Rang layee Le
Mujhe Sham Rang Deyeede”
Mark the imagery of the reference to the coffee-complexioned Krishna and the fair-complexioned woman—a rare combination of consummation of love; of expectation and efflorescence, of blushing and blossoming!
Referring to the compulsion and complexion of existentialism, he writes:
Waqt Rehta Nahin Tik Kar
Aadat Isski Bhi Aadmi Si Hai
Gulzar’s creativity lies in dove-tailing the past and the present, the old poetry and new poetry, in all its entirety and transparency giving a local habitation and a name to the airy nothings. That is why, he said in a response to a question about writing his autobiography:
“Haven’t I said so truthfully and honestly about all the vicissitudes of my life through the lens of my writings? Is there something that has been left unsaid?”
Another salient feature of his poetry is his originality in finding the imagery couched in simple but powerful diction culled from the archives of myths and folklore. What captures the reader’s attention is that from Bandini to Kill Dil, Gulzar has been able to capture the “sound of silence” and convey it convincingly encompassing almost three generations.
Before peroration of the concert, Gulzar expressed the kindling of his desire to make a movie on Waris Shah. But he regretted that “neither in any library in Pakistan (about which he spoke to his friend to rummage), and nor in any archives of literature in India, there exists any faithful history of Waris Shah on which he could buttress his narration.”
Those who are keenly interested in Gulzar as a man of letters must read a famous book, Because He Is…, by Meghna Gulzar in which she chronicles her father’s life, his writing process and his eventful, sometimes, tumultuous journey and gives an insight into his professional and personal relationships. A rich read about a father-daughter bond, it narrates intimate disclosures like the one of Gulzar’s stealing a book from a library owner and an inspiring anecdote of Gulzar’s refusal to give Meghna money when she asks for it as he explains in the Foreword to the book:
“It is not wealth or resources that make the difference, but attention, concern, and time”.
A polyglot and a versatile genius, Gulzar has been a prolific writer who has written hundreds of famous scores in the movies like Bandini, Andhi, Mausam, Maachis, Anand, Mere Apne, Omkaara, Kaminey, Dil Se, Guru, Banti Aur Babli, Ravan, Khamoshi, to name a few.
In the contemporary film industry, Parsun Joshi and Irshad Kamil are his favourite writers; and R.D. Burman, Salil Chuadhary, Vishal Bharwaj and A. R. Rahman are his pet music directors.
A recipient of Dadasaheb Phalke Award, five Indian National Film Awards, Grammy Award, Sahitya Akademi Award and the most covetous Padma Bhushan award, Gulzar is a poet, a lyricist, a novelist, a screenwriter, all rolled into one.
Born on August 18, 1934, Gulzar, (whose name was Sampooran Singh Kalra), is alert and agile, both mentally and physically; walking, talking and delighting the audience with dignity and diligence.
Manifestly, numero uno Gulzar’s reputation has not ebbed in spite of the ebb and flow of vicissitudes of life and literature in and around him and he, definitely, proves to be an engine of one hundred horse power with the boiler intact who still rides the filmdom in India like a lion, and still has the potency to play on all the gamut of literature:
Abhi Na Pardaa Giraao, Thehro, Ke Dastaan Aage Aur Bhi Hai
Abhi Na Pardaa Giraao, Thehro
…………..
Kaheen To Anjaam-O-Justju ke Sire Milenge
Abhi Na Pardaa Giraao, Thehro