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Journalism of Courage
I saw Bimal Roy’s Parineeta when I was very young but three scenes remain vivid in my memory even today.
The first, when Meena Kumari visits Ashok Kumar’s room just before leaving for a theatre show with her cousins. Ashok Kumar, who has been sulking with her, taunts her about not seeking his permission before making the plan. Affronted, Meena Kumari runs out of the room crying and does not go for the film.
Second, after the gudda guddi wedding celebrations picturised over the song ‘Gore gore haathon mein…’ Meena Kumari runs to Shekhar’s room and at the auspicious moment, drops the garland around his neck.
And finally, when Lolita, eyes downcast, confesses to Girish that she is a married woman.
A week ago, I visited Fame Theatre in Andheri to watch Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s adaptation of the 1953 classic. It was the first day, first show and the enthusiasm in the audience was palpable. As the big screen rolled the regular ads and the trailers, I felt both nervous and excited.
Vinod Chopra and Pradeep Sarkar had been courageous in adapting the 1914 published novel in 2005, but would the message be as relevant in present times? Would the film be able to evoke the same nostalgia, the pain and passion that Bimal Roy conquered several decades ago?
As the story progressed, involving me with its several characters, I waited with bated breath to compare the significant moments with the original. I felt particularly possessive about my three cherished scenes and I have to admit that on all those moments, I felt choked.
If Meena Kumari was ethereal when crushed by the sarcastic Ashok Kumar in the black and white Parineeta, doe-eyed Vidya Balan is angry and heartbroken by the caustic remark of her beloved.
At the auspicious mahurat, Ashok Kumar and Meena Kumari exchanged flower garlands. The present pair exchange a gold chain, the moment seamlessly woven in the script. And more interesting, make passionate love and later attend a family wedding.
The adaptation intelligently does not carry the ‘‘I am a married woman’’ scene. It would have been too contrived in today’s times where married women don’t look married. Instead, the director uses Sanjay Dutt to convey the information to Saif Khan and what’s attractive, Dutt combines anger with disappointment while expressing his feelings.
There are many magical moments. The lyrical frames, the sepia golden lighting, the tranquility in nature, the haunting music but most important, the extraordinary characters. There are refreshing insights. After so long, one experiences a love story that is based on emotions, not just beauty, valour or rebellion. After so long, in a society obsessed with gender equality, one encounters a hero who is considerate but also old world and possessive. A heroine who is fragile and feminine but also proud and strong-willed.
Different people may receive different messages from the film. For me, Parineeta is about simplicity and endurance. Relationships, after all are not always about expression. Sometimes restraint instills more intimacy than communication. It’s about hanging in there and having faith that if there is real love, misunderstandings will clear on their own.
The magic does not fade long after the film has ended. In fact, many nights after the screening, the mist of Parineeta brims over in the eyes. I find myself thinking about Shekhar and Lolita and how life would treat them as man and wife. Can the relationship be as attractive now that they live under the same roof and all the cobwebs have been cleared. Or would there be new imbalances and inadequacies that will bring new reflection. Or maybe drift them apart out of boredom and familiarity?
So many questions that cannot be resolved by our contemporary writers. The characters are too complex for their canvas.
You went away too early Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay, leaving behind innumerable treasures. Now who do we go to ask our questions. Do me a favour, Sarat babu, drop me a postcard from heaven or maybe we can share our thoughts via email.
