It is a difficult proposition to tear yourself away from tragedy and begin to lead matters that conduct our lives normally. We are often placed in such, in the course of our existence, at times once or at most twice, but for some, several times ; perhaps each occasion graver than the other. Would there be a sense of guilt within if we were to begin living normal, or would there be a sense of ‘time to get out of it and lead normal’ ! A question or a situation that has often troubled many and me in particular. We seek to be given the isolation and respite, when we grieve. Yet we also seek the strength from within and without, to bring continuity for the morrow. Which one is correct is unknown. Perhaps it is better that it is.
The grave tragedy in Nepal, continues to haunt our minds, hearts and thoughts.
Nepal, was a dream, a geographical location in the early years of growing up. A foreign land, but one that displayed several universal qualities with India. It was next door, much like the next door neighbour in our living residential conditions, and there was an emotional connect with the region.
I visited Nepal in 1954. We were still living in Allahabad, and had taken a trip with the family to Patna and across the river in a steamer to Muzaffarpur. Babuji had desired a meeting with some of his very close literary contemporaries. Having done that we flew from Patna airport to Kathmandu, the Capital of Nepal, in a twin engined propellor Dakota aircraft, that warhorse of the WW 2 era, and perhaps those that have interest in aeronautics, the most sturdy and long lasting aircraft to date.
It was my very first experience on a plane, and of course my very first visit to a foreign country. The excitement generated was beyond compare. I was in some very superior space during those times, my worth and value among my friends reaching its peak.
Kathmandu, in 1954 was in the process of development. It was bare and scarce and basic. Babuji’s dear friend Maharaj Kishen Rasgotra, of the Indian Foreign Service, was posted there as 1st secretary in the Indian Embassy. The Ambassador then was Shri Bhagwan Sahay, a most senior old time ICS, Indian Civil Service, as it was called during the time of the British Raj, and also a great admirer and friend of Babuji.
The landing strip at the airport was still a mud and earth track. And I still remember being told that the only metalled road in Kathmandu then, was the road from the Indian Embassy to the Royal Palace, then of King Tribhuvan, subsequently then of King Mahendra his heir, and after, to that tragic incident in the Palace when the heir to King Mahendra, who was the ruler, and his entire family being shot and killed by his own son.
The Royal family had been admirers of Babuji’s poetry, and later during my more recent trips to the land, always gave us audience.
Two aspects of that Nepal visit remain still in memory - ping pong balls from China, that were available there ; an imported delicacy, so vital for us to talk about - the possession of imported goods having stature and value in social conversation, and the bandgala Jodhpuri jackets, the formal attire of India, which my Mother had made for us, my brother and me, prior to the visit, because we were told that would be occasion to wear it at one of the formal ceremonies. The ceremony was the Investiture Ceremony of the Ambassador of India to the King of Nepal, where Diplomatic credentials were presented to the host nation by the diplomatic mission of another. We had the great honour to be a part of the audience at that prestigious moment !!
The jacket top was a greyish bluish spotted material and colour, the trousers were black. It was our most prized possession ! For someone that possessed no formal attire, or to be more precise, barely a pair of trousers and shirt in my clothings, this acquisition was supreme !!
In Nepal the other memory was of poetry symposiums at various homes of dignitaries, politicians and people of eminence. Some who had spent time during revolts in prison, often talked of how my Father’s works inspired them during their time in jail, and kept company with them. I remember that great big open space, a large maidan in the centre of the city, Tundi Khel. And the only Nepalese that I learnt then which has remained with me since :
( Did you eat the cucumber ! how was it ? it was good, it was good )
It is quite remarkable that what was stored in the computer memory of the brain in 1954, was given presence in 1981 (?) or about !! Apparently, during my recent meetings with the medical profession in connection with a campaign that I am aiming to associate myself with, I gained the knowledge that, old time memories remain fresher as we age, than what transpired a day ago !!
Coincidentally and quite ironically, it was during this trip that I took a strong aversion to cucumber salad !! I remember being served this during one of the lunches, and when I was passing it off as an item I did not want to consume, my Father insisted that salad was good for health, and that until I consumed it, I would not be allowed to leave the dining table. Despite hours of teary eyed pleas, I devoured the product, only to bring it all out moments later !! Of course now I do relish the odd sliced cucumber with my lunches, but most of all its use in modern day cosmetic treatment is garnering greater value. Sliced cucumber over the eyes, is meant to take away eye fatigue and they say, those ugly dark rings and swellings beneath !!
The later trips to Nepal have been for films I shot there - ‘Khuda Gawah’ and ‘Mahaan’. Those were most exhilarating. Nepal was completely different from those 1954 days. Developed and gushing with its modernity, yet still preserving its history, tradition and culture. The love of the people, their hospitality, the frenzy with which they gave audience to us, and of course their love for our films !
It has been heart breaking to witness now, those very exquisite archeological wonders, in the surrounding of which we shot our scenes and songs, reduced to rubble by the recent tragedy. Painful and filled with sadness !
I wish and pray that as life moves on, Nepal and its brave people shall recover from this unfortunate event and bring their lives back to normalcy as soon as possible. My prayers are of course with them, but so is my concern for support. I have made contribution. No single contribution can ever be enough. It has to be a collective effort. Each drop counts.
The sacred Pashupati Nath temple, in Kathmandu, has been saved through some divine force. It is a unique phenomena. The temple itself has a great history and I have visited it on several occasions. Even shot for ‘Mahaan’ at its exteriors ; the interiors not being permitted for shootings. And witnessing these wonders of divinity, one cannot put aside some of natures grace towards them. During the cloud burst and flooding in Uttarakhand and the KedarNath temple region, the entire surroundings were washed away by the force of the flood waters causing massive devastation. But the KedarNath Temple remained untouched ! On my visit to KanyaKumari at the tip of Southern India, indeed the most extreme tip of India for the shooting of ‘Shoebite’/Johnny Walker’, the village we were working at had entirely being washed away by that terrible Tsunami that struck most of the region if you remember, and what had remained in tact, without any damage at all was a Church !
Nature ... Fate .... Belief ... Divinity...
