Indian television has not always been
this melodramatic, lavishly decked up chimera of the life and times of the rich
and the middle class India, as it is today. There was a time in the mid 80’s up
until early 90’s when Hindi television witnessed an experimental phase which
produced cinematic products such as literary adaptations, telefilms, biopics
etc. During this period filmmakers from the New Wave Cinema Movement were
experimenting with this new medium which had been introduced in India at the
beginning of the 1980’s. Realism remained the dominant theme whether it was the
subject matter, the aesthetic or the narrative of these shows. The 17 episodes
long series,Mirza Ghalib made
in 1988 by Gulzar, based on the life and times of the famous 18th century Urdu
poet, was also a product of this phase of Indian television history.
This series holds considerable
significance not only as a rare example of a biopic in an episodic format but
also because of its artistic complexity. On the one hand as a biopic it tackles
obvious concerns regarding authenticity of representation of the historical
figure of Mirza Ghalib, on the other hand a closer look reveals that the series
also functions as an allegory (as shall be illustrated later). Both these
concerns are contrasting and at times contradictory to each other. While
authenticity of representation requires following tenets of realism not only in
narrative but also the aesthetic strategy, an allegory requires a creative
fashioning of images and events such that while telling a story they
simultaneously indicate to another as well. This contrast between realistic and
creative conceptualisation of the plot and screenplay provides an interesting
case for a deeper scrutiny into the nature of this episodic biopic as well as the
intent of its maker.
A Brief Summary
A Brief Summary
As already mentioned this series was a
biographical account of Mirza Ghalib situating him in a historical,
socio-political context. Ghalib is standing at a juncture in time when the
erstwhile Mughal regime was giving way to a bureaucratic British colonial
administration. The political upheaval had left him bereft of the family
pension upon which he had been surviving. Being a poet, Ghalib does not boast
of a regular hefty income. Besides the family pension his hope for coming into
some money rested upon being instated in the court of Bahadur Shah Zaffar, the
last Mughal ruler in India, as a court poet. However this too remained an
uphill battle owing to the intense power struggle with his contemporaries like
Zauk and Momin. Looking for avenues in the newly establishing print tradition
in India and trying to get his family pension reinstated, the constant
financial struggles of Ghalib remain the backdrop of the series.
Depicted as someone who was fond of
finer things in life including but not limited to occasional high stakes
gambling, drinking and also an ill-advised generous nature, Ghalib’s economic
problems were only compounded by his lavish lifestyle. The other constant theme
of the biopic was the personal woes of Ghalib owing to the early deaths of
seven of his children soon after their births one after another. This remained
a huge cause of grief for Ghalib and his wife and both dealt with this tragedy
in their own ways. While Ghalib’s wife has been portrayed as becoming
increasingly religious and stoic, Ghalib on the contrary became more agnostic,
took to drinking and at many occasions in the show has been seen channeling his
sorrow into his poetry and couplets. These remaining the dominant themes for
the protagonist, the socio-political context of the changing regime from one in
the hands of the last Mughal emperor, Bahadur Shah Zaffar, to one that was
being administered by the British East India Company, is in itself the
underlying plot of the show affecting the lives of various characters in
different ways. The final chapter of this change of power from one hand into
another especially in North India being the 1857 revolt, this event remains the
anchor of the show pivoting the life of the show as well as that of Ghalib in
more than one way.
In terms of the narrative and the
aesthetic it has been very important for Gulzar to keep both realistic. As he
himself has admitted, the only prior attempt to cinematically engage with
Ghalib by Sohrab Modi in 1954 resulted in more of mythification than accurate
historical representation of the 18th century poet (“Where is Reality: The
Hindu). However when working on a biopic of a literary character, especially a
poet, it becomes difficult to associate the corpus of an author’s work with
their life events even though it becomes imperative to feature the couplets and
poems in the biographical account itself. This becomes doubly true when one
deals with a poet like Ghalib. Most experts on Ghalib and Urdu poetry in
general claim that Ghalib never indulged in any socio-political commentary
through his poetry. Thus to indicate any event in a biopic on the poet through
his works would not be very feasible.
Yet Gulzar does precisely that at more
than one occasion. But to out rightly reject these as incidents of historical
inaccuracies would be a bit of overstep. Instead if one were to look at
Gulzar’s affinities with Ghalib and the empathy that he feels with his beloved
poet, one would be able to read in these very occasions, incidence of a
personal allegory.
Premising Allegory
Premising Allegory
Cinematic and literary scholars suggest
that instead of qualifying texts (cinematic or literary) as allegorical or
non-allegorical, one should look at these works as those which enable
allegorical reading in different degrees. But to understand allegorical
references one requires a foundational narrative and an allegorical design. The
foundational narrative works as a cultural code which facilitates comparisons
between what is being portrayed and what is being signified, necessary for an
allegorical reading, whereas the allegorical design includes elements of
(especially in cinema) iconographies, narrative patterns, etc. which are used
to convey the allegory intended[1]. In other words these are the elements of
premise and symbolism used in an allegory.
In terms of foundational narrative we
can look at the affinity with which Gulzar reads Ghalib. Apart from making the
show, Gulzar has also published the screenplay of this series. In the preface
to this screenplay he writes “He used to borrow money, on being unable to repay
it, he would search for innovative excuses. I feel an emotional bond with him.
I wish I could somehow repay all his debts. Instead, generations and I, we all
owe a debt to him!”. Influence of Ghalib on Gulzar is reflected also in the
latter’s poetry as well as the songs written by him. He is also actively
involved in preserving the legacy of Ghalib by organising commemorating
services at his birthplace annually (“Ghalib was a great egotist”: Times of
India).
Much like Ghalib in his old age, Gulzar
is too a witness of a massive regime change albeit during his childhood. While
Ghalib had seen British administration replacing the last relics of Mughal
dynasty, Gulzar had seen the same British administration getting dismantled and
giving rise to the post colonial Indian state. Interestingly as the 1857 revolt
was the last chapter in the previous regime change saga, partition played the
same defining moment in the latter. Both these events, the revolt and the
partition, were occasions of large scale displacement, violence and
persecution. This is indeed the most important link that connects Ghalib and
Gulzar. One can say that Ghalib and Gulzar are standing at the two ends of the
same historical thread, one which began with the end of Mughal dynasty at the
hands of British administration and ended with the demise of colonial rule
giving way to two sparring nations born out of the same country. The experience
of trauma for the two becomes the very cultural code that one can base the
foundational narrative on for an allegorical reading in Gulzar’s account of
Ghalib’s life.
As for the allegorical design, the show
is conceptualised based on the themes of nostalgia and a longing for the past.
The story begins from the year 1867, just two years before Ghalib’s death. The
opening scene is lit by dim lighting on a damp foggy morning; the set is that
of the old Kasim lane of Delhi where Ghalib used to reside. It looks old and
blackened with dust and grime. Ghalib, played by Naseeruddin Shah is returning
from the mosque. As a passerby converses with Ghalib in the street, we
understand that the dust has settled on the 1857 revolt, Bhadur Shah Zaffar has
been exiled, princes have been brutally executed and the fort remains deserted.
Consistent with the theme of nostalgia and memory, the biopic continues in the
form of flashbacks throughout.
However beside the general
mise-en-scène, there are specific occasions of allegorical indices in the show.
The first instance comes in the second episode of the series. On being prompted
by his wife, played by Tanvi Azmi, to return to his hometown in Agra after an
unsuccessful showing at a poetry recitation in the Delhi court, Ghalib replies
“Shia, Sunni; Hindu, Muslim, were these partitions not enough that people have
now built a wall between cities? I find this world very small, my lady”* [2].
Gulzar situates a couplet by Ghalib here, “Baazichaye atfaal hai duniya mere
aage, hota hai shab-o roz tamasha mere aage”* which in English translation
reads as “The world is just a child’s play before me. The farce goes on night
and day before me”*. The couplet here signifies two kinds of disillusionments.
In the scheme of the narrative Ghalib has just returned from an unsuccessful
poetry recitation and could be venting out his disappointment with regards to
that, but taking it in perspective with his remark about partitions, the same
couplet could be read as an indictment of the modern political order which
conveniently divides territories and people in the name of religion, nation etc
without seriously considering its repercussions for the affected people.
What is important to note is that this
incident is depicted in Ghalib’s youth, which means considerably before 1857.
There had been no significant partitions as such by then (as opposed to later
with the partitions of Bengal and India) which Ghalib might be distressed
about. This utterance seems more allegorical than biographical in the context
of the timeline that the biopic is following. And Gulzar’s feelings about the
partition are well documented to lend credibility to this observation. As he
said once in an interview, “My mulk (motherland)
has been left on the other side my watan (country)
is here; this is what keeps me forever divided” (“Tragic Tales”: India Today).
The allegorical design here stems from this portrayal of Ghalib’s feelings
towards the unfounded political developments referenced in the scene.
The tools used for creating the
allegorical reading here are the dialogues coupled with Ghalib’s poetry; in
other words the technique used is dialogical in capacity. In contrast, the
other two instances involve distinct iconography, imagery as well as dialogues
and poetry, to render an allegorical reading possible. In the seventeenth and the
final episode of the series the narrative as well as aesthetic transform
drastically.
In this episode, through testimonies of
various characters who have survived the revolt, the viewer takes a stock of
the situation. Ghalib on visiting the cemetery meets the Sufi saint Kale Khan
played by Amjad Khan. Khan narrates his experiences of the revolt, about how
his house was plundered. Ghalib talks about, how many of his friends and
acquaintances were executed and many Muslims were witch hunted by the British after
the revolt, which he got to escape, but many others were not as lucky as him.
As Khan informs Ghalib about the demise of their beloved king Zaffar, the
camera zooms slowly into the face of Ghalib. A couplet by Zaffar is sung in the
background and the scene is followed by another, now during night time, which
shows Kale Khan lip-synching the very lines that the last scene ended with,
standing on a flight of stairs which seem to end in darkness above. The scene
is illuminated by deeply impressionistic and artistic lighting. As the shot
changes, we see a group of men standing in the dark looking towards Khan. The
camera pans from behind over their shoulders, as Khan descends the stairs.
Ghalib is listening to the couplet from his balcony. Khan walks through a
street, with rows of people standing in the background with little to no light
falling on their faces. The darkness probably represents the widespread gloom
and sorrow.
The last lines of the poem end the scene
which read as “Roz mamura duniya mein kharabi hai Zaffar, Aisi basti ko toh
virana banaya hota”*, translated as “In this daily inhabiting world, there is
much disaster Zaffar. You should have made it a wilderness instead”*. The scene
depicts a deep sense of grief with all that has suddenly changed. The recital
of Zaffar’s poetry after his death is symbolic of the collective mourning of
the loss of humanity during the times of revolt and also the loss of the
erstwhile regime epitomised in the death of King Zaffar.
The third moment follows soon after the
second one. The theme of witch hunting by the British returns as we see two
people in conversation. One says to another with reference those rebels who
were caught, “Like the nests of the weaver-bird, the bodies are hanging from
the trees”*. The next scene without any warning throws the viewer
unsympathetically in front of a literal depiction of the preceding dialogue.
The biographical aesthetic has now completely given way to a traumatic one. As
the camera pans to show the horror of mass hangings on the trees of a forest,
it stops only at a lonely figure of Mirza Ghalib standing amidst a pile of dead
bodies. Ghalib is shaking his head in disbelief and shock. As he walks away
with the hanging bodies still in the background, Gulzar informs us in his own narration
that two years after this incident, in 1869, Ghalib passed away. The lonely
figure of Ghalib is still walking away from the cemetery and we hear Jagjit
Singh’s voice in the background one last time reciting Ghalib’s couplet: “Na
tha kuch, to khuda tha, kuch na hota, to khuda hota. Duboya mujh ko hone ne, na
hota main to kya hota”*, which reads thus “When nothing it was divinity; if
nothing it would be divine. My entity was loss of infinity; non entity would
have been fine”*
The
reason why these scenes evoke allegorical references is because of the
inconsistency that they produce. In the scheme of the narrative the reference
to Ghalib’s death in Gulzar’s narration does not quite add up. Considering that
Ghalib died in 1869, for the last scenes to occur two years prior to that would
mean that the events depicted in the final scene took place almost ten years
after the revolt was crushed in 1857, since the same timeline continues
throughout these final scenes without any information to the contrary. But
going by what was depicted in those scenes, about the freshness of the pain,
horror and destruction, it seems improbable that the violence after the revolt
continued for almost a decade.
The
reason for this irreconcilability in the time periods of events is probably the
will to preserve the traumatic quotient of the final scenes. For a realistic
biopic it becomes necessary to close as near as possible to the death of the
protagonist (if the biopic is made posthumously that is). However the tragedy
of 1857 in Ghalib’s life was too important for Gulzar to not depict it as a
finality. This is probably because Gulzar understands the importance of
expressing a traumatic memory.
Gulzar's Intent and the Allegory
Gulzar's Intent and the Allegory
To
understand Gulzar’s emphasis upon the depiction of Ghalib’s trauma in the final
few scenes of the series, it is not enough to just compare Ghalib’s experience
of the revolt to that of Gulzar’s during the partition. Gulzar’s testimony
itself can further evidence the importance of expression of the traumatic
memory for him, which further elaborates the foundational narrative of the
allegorical reading in this biopic. Gulzar while talking about the painful
memories of partition has said, “20-25 years later, those memories still
haunted me. But what I have seen is that while we got over the horrors of the
World War by talking about it and taking it out of our system, partition's
memories have remained simply because we refuse to talk about it and have thus
not let the wounds heal” (“Time We Moved”: DNA). He also says that this has
been difficult in the past because the Hindi film industry was for years asked
to refrain from touching the issue of partition, because of its political,
emotional and social sensitiveness but he rightly asserts that what has ended up
happening due to this is that “The wounds have not healed and this is proved by
the fact that whenever Aug 15 approaches, the agonising memories of partition
also comes back, even after 60 years” (ibid).
Today
Gulzar wants to move on from those memories. But this process of distancing
himself away from those memories required him to remember the event outside of
himself. That’s why in 2003, when Gulzar wrote a play by the name of
Kharashein, based on partition and its experiences, he wrote in its introduction
the following lines,“In 1947, I have seen so many riots and so many corpses,
that their imagery has not left my mind as yet. If I watch kites (birds) flying
in the sky, even those seem like vultures to me; a cover blows over and a dead
body without a shroud surfaces; a day without a shroud that hasn’t been buried
yet” (Kharashein)[3]. Since this theme of partition unwittingly surfaced
in so many of his works, his friend and a playwright, Salim Arif insisted for
him to write this play, so that “the omen of those flying kites may vacate our
skies” (ibid). Mirza Ghalib was created in 1988, and it is very probable, that
Gulzar might have found his inspiration for depicting scenes of Ghalib’s trauma
from his own experiences.
Thus
owing to his personal experiences and a deep seated empathy with Ghalib,
Gulzar’s own memories have, as it seems, seeped through an otherwise realist
biographical account of Mirza Ghalib, thus rendering an allegory that sounds
out the pain of those who have suffered at the hands of a detached state, a
changing political order and a displacing unsympathetic power structure. This
series is an important example where realism in narrative and aesthetic might
have been compromised but not at the hands of superficial melodrama and compulsions
of the market, but only due to a complex artistic desire to deliver a program
which attempts to deal with issues of memory and trauma through an allegorical
rendition of a biographical account.
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