Pages

Friday 27 September 2019

I Met Satyajit Ray & Ritwik Da'


When I met Ritwik Da and Satyajit Ray ..

I have never actually craved meeting big shots; even as a kid I have never enjoyed collecting autographs of Actors, Cricketers but still I have bumped into many, mostly per chance. It was just one of those days at The Film Institute that having got up late, around lunch time, I was escalating down the road from Boy’s Hostel toward the Canteen for some Puri Bhaji & Chai that I noticed, none other than Satyajit Ray, in person emerge out of the corner Mutari, cross over toward Studio #1 and walk up the side staircase doubtless towards the guest rooms upstairs. I think he was on the first landing when I caught his sight and greeted him from ground level, looking up. He looked down upon me hesitating and halting his step so I said that I am a resident student of Film Direction and would like to meet him with some of my class fellows. He refused to meet us, point blank, in a clipped, Oxonian accent resuming his ascent to the guest room. (period) End of meeting ! Later, I was told there was a convocation and he’d come as chief guest to distribute Diplomas. That, I believe, was his one & only visit to the FTII.

Another fine morning, in the Canteen, I was finishing my Puri Bhaji & double Chai when someone said, “Look ! That’s Ritwik Ghatak ! Sitting under the Wisdom Tree !” I looked out the window and saw an old man in Kurta Pajama was indeed sitting crouched, knees level with his chin, facing the main gate, smoking .. and I noticed the black frame of his glasses in profile. He was just sitting alone, there was no one else under the wisdom tree just at that moment. I couldn’t believe my eyes; I thought, ‘Ritwik Ghatak ! Is that him?’ ... but I got up at once, carried my half finished glass of tea to the door of the Canteen and then across the road, looking at and approaching the Man. He just kept staring right ahead, blankly as though he was expecting someone. Placing my glass on the plinth I said, “Namaskar Dada” with joined hands and sat down next to him. His vibe was so close & cool, he almost felt like an old relative of mine ! Soon someone brought him some Chai, Old Kokje, the projectionist emerged from Main Theatre and said projection was ready and we all drifted in. Dada still smoking and carrying his cup of tea went straight down the isle to the middle seat in the front row, (my seat!) and we looked at what he was watching, say reel #3 of “Viridiana” ...

Later, we went to the Book Library at the rear of Studio # 1, opposite the Sound Dept. He pulled out some twenty or thirty volumes from many shelves and asked Madam to send them to his Guest Room. In the evening when we went to see him there was a record player & Western Classical music, many open, half read books scattered upon the carpet and table, a bottle of wine from which he swigged without offering a drop to anyone else ... and HE TALKED ! He rambled, he kicked anyone who asked a stupid question and we sat upon the floor, transfixed, just imbibing I know not what all that he spoke about between swigs from his bottle of wine.

This went on till late, very late in the night. The next morning getting up late as usual, when I twaddled down toward the canteen for Puri Bhaji he was up there on the balcony ! A bottle of wine clutched in one hand and a bidi stuck between his middle & fourth finger, nearer the cleft. He was loudly showering his blessings upon passers by. And then more films, marathon sessions; none of the films will he watch completely; “THAKO !” He will shout over the projector noise and sound track and we will all repeat the command till Kokje will stop the projector. He will then demand to watch reel# so & so from so & so movie !! While Kokje and the assistant from The Archive, search and thread the new order, he will talk, talk like a good Bengali, he will speak in English, standing facing us with his bottle in his hand and his bum resting on the edge of the stage, the screen behind his tall figure. He was a man with long limbs, like Siddhartha, The Gautama Buddha.

This went on, day & night for a timeless period of time and one fine morning there was no Dada upon the balcony, smoking & drinking & cursing and blessing us all, those who were passing by down below upon the central sloping street of the then Film Institute.