Haunting notes of Hemant Mukherjee’s ‘Tum Pukar Lo’ tune
albeit with other lyrics… Suresh Wadekar’s partially forgotten honeyed vocals…
Stalwarts like Alok Nath, Vijyendra Ghatge, Beena, Dina Pathak, Pallavi Joshi,
Moushami Chatterji, Avtar Gill, Sushmita 'Kitty' Mukherjee, Harish Patel, Asha Sharma, Nishigandha Wad, Sudhir Dalvi, Goga Kapoor (only artiste with a voice to match that of Mr Amrish Puri - agreed?) and finally, Neelima Azim.. Hrishikesh Mukherjee as the
director (I nearly gulped! Hadn’t expected that)……long-forgotten names like
Babloo (Background score)….and oodles and oodles of nostalgia…
Can you guess what I am talking about? Yes, it’s the DD
oldie ‘Talaash’ that has made me take an off from office after having found all the 26
episodes thoughtfully uploaded by Rajshri on Youtube. I had very, very faint
memories of the storyline. I had forgotten all about Alok Nath and the others,
but did remember a train's whistle, Vijyendra Ghatge and Moushami (hence, the pleasant surprise of
finding some long-forgotten, some still-famous names). Another memory was that of a scene where Moushumi lies across the back of a poor chap, to prevent her cruel father from lashing out at him with a riding crop. There was also a sense of
a strong pull at the heart strings. And there was a sense of a mystery unsolved
– a sense of having missed out the delicious denouement of a suspense tale.
I don't quite know how Talaash was re-triggered in the mind. Definitely, I was googling about something else and somehow came across this by doing what we researchers are paid (inadequately) to do - cross-referencing. And then, as they say, one thing led to another and the rest is history :)
I can't really say it brought tears to the eyes.. not quite that, but truly, the sense of nostalgia and emotion were so strong that the heart was quite full. Those were the days, you know, those were the days....when railway’s first class coaches did
not have AC, small towns hosted literary conferences, Hindi authors still existed and maintained diaries, family friendships forged
relationships deeper than blood, village belles
were truly innocent and filial feelings were so strong that sons gave
up careers and marriage propositions and daughters spoiled their lives to avenge their fathers' deaths.
Based on the Bengali folk tale 'Sonar Kathi Rupor Kathi' (what a delicious name! I must read this...have already ordered the English translation on Flipkart) and with a Bengali director and crew, I had expected the story to be set in Bengal. Surprisingly, it wasn't - instead, a sleepy Rajasthan village near Udaipur is my best guess (though a Google search tells me Sarsawan is a town in northwest UP).
Whatever be the setting, after a long time I have come across a storyline that interweaves the threads of emotion with a tinge of suspense so well, has characters so real and layered that you relate with them instantly and deals with the core of human psychology in such a way that the greys replace all blacks. The acting is superb, the direction is masterly, the music is sublime and the storyline is strong and unusual. As an added allure for me, the protagonist even speaks in favor of forest conservation and against illegal lumbering!
And now for the plot. A Hindi author, Shankarlal, on his way back home from a literary conference, suddenly sees the name of a sleepy station and has an attack of memory-jog - wasn't this the same town that was mentioned in the postmark of the last letter he had received from his muhbola younger brother Sudhir, before the said younger brother disappeared? On an impulse, he rushes out of the train at this station, determined to learn the truth of Sudhir's whereabouts. However, the incident is not one, not two but nearly ten years old. Many old-timers are dead. Those who aren't, mysteriously clam up, driving Shankarlal to near-frustration. That Sudhir had somehow made himself unwelcome to the gentle villagers here, dawns on Shankarlal, who is befuddled by the growing incoherence surrounding the disappearance of his affable and gentle brother. Only one person seems to be the ultimate fountainhead of information - Sarsawan's own Woman in White, a sadhika called behenji - who is regarded as a goddess among the villagers but whose mood swings regarding Shankarlal and Sudhir are so abrupt and wide that female hormones cannot be blamed. Is Sudhir dead or alive? Did he deserve the mass hatred of the villagers? What actually happened nearly a decade ago? Will behenji enlighten Shankarlal? No, no. These questions, I am afraid, do not deserve answers here. They are the typical queries we review writers throw in for good measure to titillate our readers. 23 X 26 minutes is about the time you will require to see this DD masterpiece through. So go ahead, Youtube lovers!
Whatever be the setting, after a long time I have come across a storyline that interweaves the threads of emotion with a tinge of suspense so well, has characters so real and layered that you relate with them instantly and deals with the core of human psychology in such a way that the greys replace all blacks. The acting is superb, the direction is masterly, the music is sublime and the storyline is strong and unusual. As an added allure for me, the protagonist even speaks in favor of forest conservation and against illegal lumbering!
And now for the plot. A Hindi author, Shankarlal, on his way back home from a literary conference, suddenly sees the name of a sleepy station and has an attack of memory-jog - wasn't this the same town that was mentioned in the postmark of the last letter he had received from his muhbola younger brother Sudhir, before the said younger brother disappeared? On an impulse, he rushes out of the train at this station, determined to learn the truth of Sudhir's whereabouts. However, the incident is not one, not two but nearly ten years old. Many old-timers are dead. Those who aren't, mysteriously clam up, driving Shankarlal to near-frustration. That Sudhir had somehow made himself unwelcome to the gentle villagers here, dawns on Shankarlal, who is befuddled by the growing incoherence surrounding the disappearance of his affable and gentle brother. Only one person seems to be the ultimate fountainhead of information - Sarsawan's own Woman in White, a sadhika called behenji - who is regarded as a goddess among the villagers but whose mood swings regarding Shankarlal and Sudhir are so abrupt and wide that female hormones cannot be blamed. Is Sudhir dead or alive? Did he deserve the mass hatred of the villagers? What actually happened nearly a decade ago? Will behenji enlighten Shankarlal? No, no. These questions, I am afraid, do not deserve answers here. They are the typical queries we review writers throw in for good measure to titillate our readers. 23 X 26 minutes is about the time you will require to see this DD masterpiece through. So go ahead, Youtube lovers!
1 comment:
Have read Sonar kathi Rupor Kathi -- can't find ANY connectivity between this folk tale and Talaash! Except perhaps one - and that's my best guess - sonar kathi was the gold rod that caused the dead to come alive while the rupor kathi was the silver rod that caused the alive to sleep the slumber of the dead.
The contrast of the two sisters is as stark - one causing a near-dead man to come alive while the other caused this same man to become the living-dead!
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