( Brothers ..Balraj and Bhisham Sahni)
( Balraj Sahni, Sahir Ludhinavi, Upendra Nath Ashq and Mrs. Ashq.. Photo source..Bhumika Diwedi ,Hindi writer from Ashq family )
I was going by bus from Rawalpindi to Kashmir with my family to enjoy the summer vacation. Half-way through we were halted because a big chunk of the road had been swept away by a landslide caused by rain the previous night. We joined the long queues of buses and cars on either side of the landside. Impatiently we waited for the road to clear. It was a difficulty job for the P.W.D. and it took some days before they could cut a passage through. During all this time the passengers and the drivers of vehicles made a difficult situation even more difficult by their impatience and constant demonstration. Even the villagers nearby got fed up with the high-handed behaviour of the city-walas.
One morning the overseer declared the road open. The green- flag was waved to the drivers. But we saw a strange sight. No driver was willing to be the first to cross. They just stood and stared at each other from either side. No doubt the road was a make-shift one and even dangerous. A mountain on one side, and a deep gorge and the river below. Both were forbidding. The overseer had made a careful inspection and had opened the road with a full sense of responsibility. But nobody was prepared to trust his judgment, although these very people had, till yesterday, accused him and his department of laziness and incompetence. Half an hour passed by in dumb silence. Nobody moved. Suddenly we saw a small green sports car approaching. An Englishman was driving it; sitting all by himself. He was a bit surprised to see so many parked vehicles and the crowd there. I was rather conspicuous, wearing my smart jacket and trousers. “What’s happened?” he asked me.
I told him the whole story. He laughed loudly, blew the horn and went straight ahead, crossing the dangerous portion without the least hesitation.
And now the pendulum swung the other way. Every body was so eager to cross that they got into each other’s way and created a new-confusion for some time. The noise of hundreds of engines and hundreds of horns was unbearable.
That day I saw with my own eyes the difference in attitudes between a man brought up in a free country and a man brought up in an enslaved one. A free man has the power to think, decide, and act for himself. But the slave loses that power. He always borrows his thinking from others, wavers in his decisions, and more often than not only takes the trodden path.
I learnt a lesson from this incident, which has been valuable to me. I made it a test for my own life. In the course of my life, whenever I have been able to make my own crucial decisions, I have been happy. I have felt the breath ‘of freedom on my face. I have called myself a free man. My spirit has soared high and I have enjoyed life because I have felt there is meaning to life ”
" After spending a few days at Rawalpindi, we went to Kashmir for a holiday. We had a villa in Srinagar. One day we had an unexpected visitor, Chetan Anand, who of course stopped with us. He had come all that far to ask me and Dammo ( Wife Damayanti )to play the leads in his Neecha Nagar, the spade work of which had been completed. By way of our fees, he was prepared to pay us 20,000 rupees. This figure was beyond our wildest imagination. Or was he perhaps pulling our leg?
From Srinagar I had written to Hazari Prasad Dwivedi-who was the head of the Hindi Bhavan at Shantiniketan-offering to go back to my old post there and he had replied to say that I would be welcome. Both Dammo and I were, in fact, eager to return to Shantiniketan and renew contact with our friends and colleagues there. But now suddenly it was as if a new vista had opened up before us! "
"One evening during a stroll along the Jhelum embankment( Bandh ), Chetan Anand told me the story of Neecha Nagar. Although the style of his narration left me unimpressed, I found the story gripping enough. In fact, I was reminded of those down-to-earth stories of Gorky and the stark realism of the Russian films. Indeed, some of the scenes Chetan described so graphically that they haunted my imagination several days thereafter. No doubt, it was a bold step that Chetan was contemplating, but to assist him in this venture could not be considered as wrong by any means!
Chetan went to Gulmarg to write the dialogues of the film, and a few days later the film took a definite shape.
By 20th December, we had to reach Poona, where the film was to be shot at the Navyug Studio. W.Z. Ahmed, that redoubtable film maker, was the producer of the film, while Chetan himself was .going to direct it.
Chetan returned to Bombay by July end. Before he left, we informed him of our acceptance of his offer, although we had not divulged this secret of ours to our near ones.
During that sojourn in Kashmir, I managed to combine business with pleasure. I procured the pre¬ceding four years' files of the Hindi periodical 'Hans' -which was then edited by Munshi Premchand's son Sripat Rai-and read them in between the treks through the valley, but of the countless articles I then read, I found two profoundly moving. One was Antim Abhilasha, the Hindi version of Bijen Bhattacharya's one-act play Zabanbandi, which drew a vivid picture of the travails of the country folk who flee their villages for Calcutta in the wake of the Great Bengal Famine. The other was Krishan Chander's great novel, Annadata."
Since I had come from Bombay, where the Central Office of the Communist Party was, the Srinagar comrades used to treat me with deference, which was out of all proportion. I, on my part, would also try to live up to it, although I was no match for them in political sagacity. Thanks to the atmosphere in my home and my education at the Government College, Lahore, I had become an introvert; I had got into the habit of closing my eyes to the events that were happening around me, no matter how momentous they were! Even Marxism could not provide me with a means to get rid of it. I always get nonplussed whenever I find myself in a different situation."
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\.