“BHISAHM SAHNI.. TODAY’S PASTS A
MEMOIR “By Snehal Shingavi ( Published in 2015 by Penguin Books Price Rs499/= Pages 434) .This
Book is English Translation of Hindi Autobiographical
work of Bhisham Sahni titled “ AAJ KE ATEET “ Published by Rajkamal Prakashan
in 2004 . Now translated into English by Snehal Shingavi in 2015....,) ,
BHISHAM SAHNI ( 1915-2003 ) IN A KASHMIRI PHERAN.
( Bhisham and Balraj Sahni.. Not just Brothers alone But Great Friends as well Apart from being Two Affectionate Human Beings )
While Reading Bhisham Sahni’s
Autobiography in English , I came across so many wonderful anecdotes .Surely, some Memories
of Kashmir come up fascinatingly in this Book. I share some anecdotes.. ..
(1)
“ Before pakistan was formed , we
were in kashmir and had gone to Wular lake.There was a Bengali in our group of
friends who had some interest in Palmistry . I also placed my palm before him.
He did not say much but certainly said
“ Your left arm will be injured. “
I shook my head and after 12 years
, myi broke my left arm after falling from the
roof of my “Bunglow” in Ambala . Once we were at Shimla when a sanskrit
scholar looked at sheela’s palm and said that her 76th year will be
significant. And it is true that she passed away at seventy six.”
(2)
" All My cousins used a word
Mattu ( Moa’t in kashmiri ) when they addressed me . They said it with love but
Mattu ( Moa’t ) was an insane person who roamed the streets of srinagar “
(3)
“ In summers , we used to go to
Srinagar . Kashmir was created for sightseeing , after all.What destination was
better for celeberating Honeymoon than kashmir ?One morning , I got two
bicycles . One of them was mine and the other was a Girl’s bicycle that I borrowed
from a neighbour. Sheela and I set of . We went to Dal Lake . We could have
parked our bicycles on the shore , enjoyed the lake on a houseboat and stopped
at Ahdoo’s Restaurant on way back for our Lunch . But I changed my mind. Why
not go to Ganderbal.Sheela was really happy . Her hair was gently blowing in
the breeze and there was a smile on her
lips . But the roads were bumpy and the heat was intense. Sheela was finding it
difficult to continue her cycling. Her
face had turned red and she felt exhausted . She had just taken her Exams a few days ago
and then she was exhausted from the wedding . She was sweating and tired.
“Ganderbal is one of kashmir’s
oldest places . Kheer Bhawani is next right to it. Lake Manasbal is not that far.
You will like it . Just a little more “ I said to her . She kept cycling though she
was extremely tired . soon She began
to cry . We were outside the Temple and I got her something to eat.We relaxed
under a tree but Sheela did not say a
word.She just kept shaking her head.My heart stopped. It was afternoon when a
bus arrived for srinagar . I put the bicycles on the roof of the bus bought
tickets and got into the bus .Sheela looked at me and smiled for the first
time.And when the Bus started , she put her head on my shoulders and soon fell
asleep.”
(4)
“My wife sheela was suddenly
fired from AIR . To supplement our income , she was teaching English to two
foreign women at an embassy . Her Higher ups in the government gave a reasoning
that she needed permission from Government to teach foreigners . She was sad.
Soon she was selected as translator in Moscow as she knew Russian language. But
she did not like that job .She did not enjoy her work.
She belonged to a family of
Police officers and grew up in a different atmosphere than the one in our
home.But according to customs, she had come to live with us and adopt many of
our ways of life.However ,Two or three years after we were married , the Nation
was partitioned and subsequently , we began living increasingly on our own and
running the househld. We began to struggle with our shared present and dream
about our shared future . But basically all our decisions were made with an eye
on my work, whether it was in IPTA , or teaching at Ambala college , or working
for the Teachers Union or later my writing or my job at Moscow. She not only
Completely supported my work , she also actually denied her own ambitions .
There is no doubt that every fibre of my being is grateful to her for this .
Often she used to say ‘ When we were married , I said to myself that this man
is mine. Whatever he is , he is mine. ’She put her hand into mine with that
faith and maintained that faith until the very end.”
(5)
“Going to Vietnam was like going
on a pilgrimage . I also saw the ordinary little shack , The former home of the
Nation’s Great leader Ho Chi Minh : More splendorous than the biggest of
Mansions . His walking stick , umbrella , Hat and jacket were still hanging in
one corner of the shack.It seemed like he had gone out for a little while and
would return anytime now.”
(6)
" I was an innocent child ,
wandering around the alleys and streets like a tramp;from one alley to the next
, aimlessly , and for so long that when shadowy darkness of the evening began
to descend , i would have covered an unimaginable distance ! Then my brother or
family servant , Tulsi , would find me after a search .Finally my father tied a
round , Brass medallion around my neck with words .. THIS BOY IS THE SON OF
BABU HARIPRASAD SAHNI OF CHACHI NEIGHBOURHOOD ; IF ANY ONE FINDS HIM WANDERING
AROUND , PLEASE SEND HIM BACK HOME. "
(7)
“ Muktibodh (Prominent Hindi Poet
of twentieth century ) was sick in Bhopal and in very bad shape.His writer
friends Nemi Chand jain , Shrikant verma , Ram Kumar , Amrita Pritam and myself
decided to meet the then Prime Minister Shastri ji and seek financial and
Medical aid for the poet. And after we met Shastri ji , next day Muktibodh was
brought to Delhi for treatment . He was admitted to Medical Institute but he
did not survive . All of us were overwhelmed by the speed and concern with
which Shastri ji had an ailing writer brought to Delhi “
(8)
“ Once the Afro Asian writers
conference was held in Tunis . At that time ,Tunis was the HQ of exiled PLO
leader Yasser Arafat .I was the executive secretary of Afro Asian Writers
Association. We were joined by Kamleshwar , Balu Rao , Joginder Paul and Abdul
Bismillah . I was invited to PLO HQ.I got a surprise when Yasser Arafat
personally came to escort me and my wife inside the venue. Once inside , we met
twenty or so Palestenian writers .Yasser Arafat had tea with us . He was happy
at Indian Government’s condemnation of unfair treatment of Palestine issue by
Imperialist powers . When I mentioned Gandhi ji and other leaders of our
country , Arafat said, “ They are not merely your leaders , But ours as well.
we respect them as much as you do .” Arafat peeled fruits for the delegation.
He made us tea with honey .He spoke about his Engineering degree , endless
travel and usefulness of honey. I felt at ease with him. I also felt the need
to go to the Washroom and when I emerged , Yasser Arafat was standing there
holding a towel for me .”
(9)
“ When I recall , I recall the
days of childhood when Balraj and me used to play . He would be Rana Partap
making me his horse Chetak.And then Brother deciding to leave home and father
repeatedly trying to get him understand that he should not leave . And then I
see Balraj in Do Bigha Zameen. Then one after another ,many faces appeared to
me that did not belong to Balraj, But were really his.
Balraj’s son Parikshat is doing
good work Now. This was the same Parikshat who sat behind me on the horse when
I was getting married and put his tiny arms around my waist and said that he
won’t let me go anywhere .I saw him in films . I saw him playing the role of an
elderly kashmiri in Tele serial Gul Gulshan Gulfaam. These are glimpses that
our loved ones give us , leaving marks on our memory . There is no empty place
in life.”
(10)
“ In an Afro Asian writer’s
conference , while discussing the works of Manto , Poet Ali sardar jafri made
an argument that it was great that Manto had put up the lives of prostitutes at
the centre of his works, But why didn’t the victimized , exploited prostitutes
in his stories ever become rebels ? Why didn’t they destroy their exploiters
?"
Here is a book that gives you a
Grand account of the progressive writers Movement in India especially the post
partition period with stalwarts like syed Sajjad zaheer , Ali Sardar Jafri ,
Mulk Raj Anand , Rajinder singh Bedi , Mohan Rakesh and many more . Bhisham
sahni takes you on a trip to Russia where he worked as Translator or to
Kampuchea and Vietnam. Prior to this , he gives you a glimpse of Arya samaj
Movement in Punjab and the typical Middle class life style images of His Home
town Rawalpindi . He also takes you to kashmir where the family had set up a
home for spending summer months .Infact , Balraj sahni’s wife Damayanti belonged
to a respectable Arya samaji ( Punjabi ) family of kashmir .
The technique of recording very
small incidents and then making history out of them is only known to Bhisham
sahni and he surely excels in this unique skill. With this technique he reveals
how A gentleman tried to retrieve a golden Bracelet from the arm of his wife
who lay dead in well during Hindu Muslim riots or when Yasser Arafat stood
outside the wash room with a towel for the author .
I have read his short storries and his great
novel TAMAS . TAMAS left a lasting impression on my mind . So was his excellent
short story , ‘Chief ki Daawat’ . As a writer, he demonstrated towering
humanism, compassion and an ability to bring into sharp respite the human
essence of even a patently inhuman situation. TAMAS tells many stories of
everlasting pain and suffering with a bold and compassionate perspective . Any
person who wishes Peace must read this book. It shall make him understand why
it is so important to safeguard peace at any cost .
To Bhisham and his brother Balraj
, kashmir remained unforgettable. A place where they spent the summers of their
childhood ..During winters , the family would move to Rawalpindi..
I end up this brief write up with
a line that I read in this book only….
" Tujh Mein sau Naghme Hain
Aey Taare Rabaab e hasti "
( O Life's Musical instrument ,
each of
your strings releases hundreds of
songs )
Still Reading …
( Autar Mota )
CHINAR SHADE by Autarmota is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License.
Based on a work at http:\\autarmota.blogspot.com\.
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