Thank You, Sanjay For Taking Up What I Now Think Is Your Biggest Challenge

Ali Peter John

I have had many strange beliefs and my having some kind of a bond with Sahir Ludhianvi who I will believe till the end of my life is the greatest poet and who I was extremely lucky to know quite well during my short but forever stint of work with the greatest Indian I have known,, K.A Abbas, who else?

I had seen“Pyaasa"while I was still in school in a ramshackle theatre ironically called the New Venkatesh in a suburb called Vile Parle. I must have been fourteen or fifteen, but I loved the film so much that I must have seen it more than twenty-five times in my lifetime. I could identify with Vijay, the poet played by Guru Dutt. I could understand every word of what every song spoke about and I decided that the real life poet Sahir Ludhianvi would be my hero all through my life....

At twenty-one, I had released my first book,“Voices in Turmoil"at which I had K.A Abbas as the chief guest and Professor Sadanand Rege a well-known poet as one of the guests of honour, the other being my teacher in school, Mr Linus Cerejo who was the first to recognise my flair for writing English. Soon after the release, I had to face a barrage of questions and the one question everyone asked was who my favourite poet was. They expected me to mention Lord Tennyson, Shelley, Wordsworth or Byron, but there was silence on the stage and in the auditorium when I mentioned the name of Sahir Ludhianvi with all the emphasis at my command. My answer had raised a storm, but nothing or noone could change my opinion....

Circumstances were in my favour, like they have always been, thankfully. How I got close to K.A Abbas is a long and almost unbelievable story, but it was while I was with Abbas that I met some of the greatest poets, writers, actors, painters, strugglers and above all Sahir Ludhianvi. We became friends in the very first meeting and he left a lasting impact on me which still lasts and only grows stronger...

I became such an ardent admirer of the poet that I went and stood under his building called‘Parchhaiyan'in which he had the entire top floor and lived with his sister.

I followed him wherever he went in his old Fiat whose number 3825 I still remember. He always sat next to the driver and kept talking to him. I think it was the first time I realised why he was called“the people's poet".

I remember one of the many meetings Abbas Sahaab had in the only luxury he had, his library with all the communist, progressive and liberal writers. Abbas Sahaab was like“the monitor of the class"and could fire the daylights out of any of the men at the meeting and this one time it was Sahir who was his target. He was being fired for his wild lifestyle and his drunken behaviour at times. Not a word was said as long as Abbas Sahab fired Sahir, but they were all friends after the meeting, no bitter feelings when it came to the ideology they were committed to...

As I said, there was a bond between Sahir and me. I had joined‘Screen'and there was a party at the Taj Mahal Hotel to celebrate a song he had written for a film called“1965"based on the Indo-Pak war, and directed by J.P Dutta who was to go on to make other war films like“Border",“Refugee"and“LOC Kargil". There was a entire industry present in the Ballroom Hall of the Taj, but my eyes were only focused on my hero, Sahir...

He was standing in a corner dressed in trousers, a shirt tucked in and what fascinated me most, a jacket made of ordinary cotton. It was this personality of his that fascinated me and I decided to dress up in the same way whenever I could afford it. I found the courage to go up to him after I had two drinks and we began a long conversation. The first thing he told me was not to mix my whisky with soda or water but to have it neat. He also taught me how to hold my glass in the cusp of my palm and hold the cigarette between all the five fingers of my right hand and he told me to drink to get drunk and not to drink only because it was the done thing..

I always like the two words Naseeruddin Shah used to describe what happens to anyone who has all the passion, he said, “the universe conspires"when you pursue a passion. That was what happened to me in the case of Sahir long before Naseer used that phrase...

Sahir Sahab once invited me to breakfast in his old bungalow in Seven Bungalows near Versova. It was a very old bungalow but it belonged to him completely. He however had built his own building in Juhu where he was a neighbour of a fellow comrade, the handsome actor Balraj Sahni who had built his bungalow close to his building. The bungalow in Versova was divided into two parts. He had given the entire ground floor to his friend Dr R.K Kapoor who was a friend from the old Punjab days. He did not charge him any rent and he occupied the top floor if and when he visited his bungalow...

It was the morning when I came to know what breakfast meant to him. It was a feast like they serve at grand festivals. Next to drinks, if Sahir Sahab loved anything, it was good food.

He rarely talked about his first but failed love with the poetess, Amrita Pritam or his second affair with the singer Sudha Malhotra.“Mohabbat karne ki cheez hoti hai doosro ke saath uske baare mein baat karne ki nahi", he said as he has one long puff at his cigarette and then crushed the butt in the ash tray which was already full of such stubs. It was an action which reminded me about how he used to visit the house of Amrita Pritam and sit silently smoking and then left with the stubs of his cigarettes in Amrita's ash tray from which she took out the stubs to touch them to her lips to feel that she was touching his fingers and lips,which ultimately made her a chain-smoker..

I had many more meetings with him, most of them in the library of Abbas Sahaab. I had heard many stories about his being obstinate about being paid one rupee more than Lata Mangeshkar was paid or any of the other singers or composers were paid, but I felt I was too small to discuss such a serious and delicate subject with him. I respected his privacy. It was October 24, it was around nine pm. He was drinking all evening and had taken a taxi to reach his Versova Bungalow he asked the taxi driver to wait as he just wanted to meet his friend, Dr Kapoor. He sat and asked for some more drinks to be served and then silently slumped into the lap of Dr Kapoor and before Dr Kapoor could even know what was happening to him, Sahir had died of a massive heart attack.

(ali peter image)

The funeral was to be held at the Muslim Kabristaan in Santa Cruz where some of the greatest writers and actresses like Madhubala and Meena Kumari were buried. I had no money to travel to Santa Cruz. I borrowed a rupee from a friend and walked up to his house in Juhu, only to know that the funeral procession had already left for Santa Cruz. I ran from Juhu to Santa Cruz and the universe conspired again because I reached in time to bid farewell to the man who was dead but who was going to live me forever...

The Bombay Municipal Corporation had built a marble plaque for Padmashri Sahir Ludhianvi on the busy Linking Road. But, it was the first time that I came to know that Sahir could also have rivals or enemies because the plaque was vandalised by some hooligans in the same night after it was inaugurated. The BMC promised to build another plaque in his honour, but that promise has still to be kept thirty-nine years later. I am very sure that Sahir Sahab would have something very strong to say about this humiliation he had to suffer after his death.

Now, his bungalow in Versova has been demolished to make way for a multi-storeyed monstrosity and his house at“Parchhayan"in Juhu has been reduced to a God-forsaken godown with all his books left to rot, all his awards turned into worthless and useless objects and the place being under litigation because Sahir was a lonely man who had no family and even the one sister he had got cheated by a fake poet called Sabir Dutt who falsely claimed to be related sometimes to Guru Dutt and sometimes to Sunil Dutt and got a collection of Sahir's works published. He had his eyes on the property of Sahir Sahaab and in the ugly process even got married to the ageing and ailing sister of Sahir. The proof of punishment coming not in hell but here on earth itself was proved right when the sister first died and even as Sabir Dutt was planning to takeover Sahir Sahaab's property, he suddenly died.

There have been many attempts to recreate the life, love and times of Sahir and there are actors who are taking advantage of his story to make money. But, I am very sure that a maker like Sanjay Leela Bhansali who could do full justice to characters like Devdas, Bajirao and Mastani and Rani Padmavati and Alauddin Khilji who were characters from history will work sincerely to do justice to a man who raised his voice against injustice. All the best and all the strength and the spirit to you, Sanjay Leela Bhansali. I believe that you will be fighting a greater battle than all the battles you have fought to make your films-and I know you have the calibre and the talent to do justice to a simple still great man like Abdul Haye, better known as Sahir Ludhianvi to the world.

SAHIR - HE FOUGHT FOR WOMEN AND THEIR DIGNITY

It was a delicious coincidence that International Women’s day coincided with Sahir Ludhianvi’s birthday (March 8, 1921). He was a firebrand poet who spoke of the plight of the ordinary people and gave us the most defining poetry  about women and their emotions.

It was perhaps because a single woman had brought him up. Sahir's mother had left his father Fazal Mohammad who had remarried, taking with her their son, 13-year-old Abdul Hai (Sahir Ludhianvi was his pen name). The father fought a legal battle for his custody but the mother’s stance prevailed and the Lahore High Court ruled in her favour.

Sahir’s father was a rich landowner, and his mother had to struggle to make ends meet. Perhaps this is what inspired a song in Yash Chopra's“Trishul",where the single mother played by Waheeda Rehman battles many a hardship to bring her son up. It gives voice to the struggles of single, working mothers trying to raise their children with hard work and dignity, seeking to equip them to face a harsh world.

Its a delicious coincidence that International Women’s day coincides with Sahir Ludhianvi’s birthday (March 8, 1921). Here was a firebrand poet who spoke of the plight of the ordinary people and gave us the most defining verses about women and their emotions.

This was perhaps because a single woman had brought him up. Sahir's mother had left his father Fazal Mohammad who had remarried, taking with her their son, 13-year-old Abdul Hai (Sahir Ludhianvi was his pen name). The father fought a legal battle for his custody but the mother’s stance prevailed and the Lahore High Court ruled in her favour.

Sahir’s father was a rich landowner, and his mother had to struggle to make ends meet. Perhaps this is what inspired a song in the film Trishul (1978), where the single mother played by Waheeda Rehman battles many a hardship to bring her son up. It gives voice to the struggles of single, working mothers trying to raise their children with hard work and dignity, seeking to equip them to face a harsh world.

Main tujhe reham ke saaye mein na�palne doongi�

Zindagani ki kadi dhoop mein �jalne doongi�

Taake tap tap ke tu faulad bane

Maa ki aulaad bane�

Maa ki aulaad bane�

Tu mere saath rahega Munne

(Sahir ludhianvi image)

I will not let you be brought up in the shade of mercy

I will let you be blazed by the oven that is life

So that you can be moulded into iron

So that you can be your mother’s son

So that you can be your mother’s son

You will forever be by my side, Munne

tere bachpan ko jawaani ki dua deti hun

I pray for your childhood to flower into youth

This lullaby from the dacoit saga Mujhe Jeene Do (1963) is a complete commentary on a woman’s maternal instincts and yet again a reflection on his relationship with his mother.

Whether it was the result of the close relationship he shared with his mother or his initial affair with a classmate ending in tragedy that led to his great empathy for women, or his Marxist leanings, he was the first poet to explore the marginalisation of women, of those forced to enter the flesh trade, and comment on the hypocrisy of those who eulogised the culture of the East yet didn’t think twice about using women. Whatever the reason he penned the most iconic verses, which were later adapted into film songs. His disillusionment with the world still rings true and was used in the film Pyaasa (1957).

Jawaani bhatakti hai badkaar ban kar

Jawaan jism sajte hein bazaar ban kar

Yahaan pyaar hota hai byopaar ban kar

Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaye to kya hai

(Pyaasa film image)

Youth stumbles around as an evil doer

Young bodies are decorated for sale in the market of lust

Love here is nothing but a trade

So what if I attain this world and make it my own?

This world where society itself is an enemy of humansThis world where greed dictates the customsSo what if I attain this world and make it my own?

These lines from the same song describe the commodification of women:

Jawaani bhatakti hai badkaar ban kar

Jawaan jism sajte hein bazaar ban kar

Yahaan pyaar hota hai byopaar ban kar

Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaye to kya hai

Youth stumbles around as an evil doer

Young bodies are decorated for sale in the market of lust

Love here is nothing but a trade

So what if I attain this world and make it my own?

He visited many brothels in Lahore to understand the oppression endured by the women working there; this took shape as the nazm "Chakle" that he later adapted for the film Pyaasa. I still get goose pimples when I hear these words or watch the picturisation. The original nazm, written before Independence, questioned the custodians of eastern piety:

kahan hain who muhafiz khudi ke?

Where are the custodians of self-respect?

I am using the popular film lyrics, which were written in independent India, where he added the hook line "Jinhe naaz hai Hind par vo kahan hain"?

Ye purapech galiya’n, ye badnaam bazaar

Ye gumnaam raahi, ye sikko’n ki jhankar

Ye ismat ke saude, ye saudo’n pe takrar

Jinhe naaz hai hind par vo kaha hain?

Kahan hain, kahan hain, kahan hain?

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