How KA Abbas’s book on Hindi cinema holds the mirror to the industry

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Abbas recounts this in the chapter “Meena Kumari: The Muse, The Ghazal” in his last book Sone Chandi Ke Buth: Writings on Cinema (Penguin Vintage, 2022). Edited and translated by film scholars and trustees of the Khwaja Ahmad Abbas Memorial Trust Syeda Hameed and Sukhpreet Kahlon, the book presents a poignant portrait of Meena Kumari — the child star, legendary actor and poet — who had to sacrifice her dreams to work in movies, to support her family. While telling her story, the film journalist-turned-filmmaker brings insider insight. He employs a similar approach while profiling other stalwarts such as V Shantaram, Dilip Kumar, Balraj Sahni and Satyajit Ray.

Multi-faceted Abbas, who penned 74 books, occupies a unique space in Indian cinema as its tireless chronicler as well as creator. The 1914-born joined the Bombay Chronicle newspaper as a correspondent in the ’30s, and started his famous column “The Last Page” in 1935. Later, he moved to the Blitz and continued his association with it till his death in 1987. While working with the newspaper, he was moonlighting as a publicist for Bombay Talkies studio. Later, under their banner, he debuted as a screenwriter for Naya Sansar (1941). Soon, he established himself as an incomparable screenwriter with movies such as Chetan Anand-directed Neecha Nagar (1946) and V Shantaram-directed Dr Kotnis Ki Amar Kahani (1946). Quick to expand his repertoire, Abbas made his mark as a director with Dharti Ke Lal (1945), which narrated the horrors of the 1943 Bengal famine, and in 1951 set up his production company called Naya Sansar.

KA Abbas at home in Mumbai (Courtesy: Penguin Vintage)

Referred to as “human dynamo” by his close friends, the Panipat-born writer has closely watched the film industry through the journalistic lens since the 1930s, notwithstanding his intimate and professional associations with several prominent personalities. He peeled off the veneer of the film industry, critiquing movies and recording behind-the-scene shenanigans. As a screenwriter-filmmaker, however, he was preoccupied with telling socially relevant and humane stories through movies such as Rahi (1953), Munna (1954), Jagte Raho (1956), Saat Hindustani (1969) and Mera Naam Joker (1970).

The recently-published Sone Chandi Ke Buth, which is divided into four segments — Funn Aur Funkar (art and artist); Kahaaniyaan (stories); Articles; and Bombay Chronicle Articles — is mainly a compilation of his journalistic writings and four short fictions. Some of the best pieces in the book are about famous personalities.

In a heartwarming piece, he recalls meeting Ajitabh Bachchan, who carried a photograph of his brother Amitabh and was accompanied by actor Jalal Agha. Abbas was casting for his movie Saat Hindustani then. In the chapter titled “Amitabh Bachchan: Himmatwala”, he talks about signing the debutant actor for Rs 5,000, travelling in third class to Goa for the shoot, staying in a dak bungalow, and Abbas’s assistant giving Bachchan the once-popular moniker, “Lambu”.

Abbas holds Prithviraj Kapoor in high esteem even though the writer was engaged in a debate with the legendary actor during their very first meeting. In the chapter, “Prithviraj Kapoor: The Shahenshah”, Abbas describes the actor as “a blend of humaneness and stardom” and someone who was “ever-ready to stand for a social cause”. It is with his son, actor-director Raj Kapoor, that Abbas formed a lasting and fruitful association as he wrote several movies made under the RK Films banner, including Awaara (1951), Shree 420 (1955), Bobby (1973).

Raj Kapoor and Nargis in Anhonee (Courtesy: Penguin Vintage)

Though he calls Raj Kapoor an “engine”, Abbas writes, “I felt that if this engine could be connected to the right vehicle, it would spread my views far and wide,” writes Abbas in the chapter ‘Raj Kapoor: An Extraordinary Karmayogi’. “I know for a fact that Raj has only one abiding and true love — himself,” he writes. But the reason why his associates put up with his self-love is because the actor-turned-director “loved his work more than himself,” writes Abbas.

Notwithstanding his sharp observations and wit, Abbas’s tone has a journalistic restraint. Unlike Saadat Hasan Manto’s writings about the film industry — some of them are salacious and delightfully gossipy — Abbas is candid but not caustic. For instance, exasperated by Dilip Kumar’s choice of movies, especially those commercial in nature, Abbas hoped the actor would take up more artistically rich movies.

Abbas appears to be in awe of octogenarian Shantaram, but he does not fail to mention that the legendary filmmaker’s “confrontation of social issues and his boldness in doing so is lacking” in his later movies, such as Jal Bin Machhli Nritya Bin Bijli (1971). One of the moving pieces in the book is about Sahir Ludhianvi. It’s unfailing in his admiration for the lyricist, Ludhianvi’s contribution to Urdu poetry, giving filmi poetry “the status of literature”.

Interestingly, while writing fiction, Abbas delves into the film world’s darker side. His short stories capture its harsh realities and hypocrisy. The story “A Mother’s Heart” takes a dig at starry tantrums and the exploitation of the underprivileged. With “The Film Triangle”, he explores the murky world of film business.

Informative and insightful, Sone Chandi Ke Buth is a window to India’s cinematic past — with all its follies, idiosyncrasies and excellence. Though the industry has witnessed technological advancement, a number of its inherent problems remain the same. Let’s hope Abbas’s book holds up the mirror to the industry and inspires course correction.