The mirror in Indian art

By B.N. Goswamy
AT the time that I write this, I should have been in Bombay, attending an international conference.

The ‘happening babe’
By Sonoo Singh
"I don’t like classical music, and would like to do just my own thing". In this age of PYTs (pretty young things!) wearing the label of "Just do it" around their lives, this will hardly come as a surprise.

Play in pursuit of truth
By Puran Mudgal
TRUTH is not just what you see on the surface of things. It may be different. It is at times enigmatic and may defy revelation unless pursued doggedly.

• Old melodies

Multiple persona of TV host
By Nonika Singh

Woh din bhi kya tha, kaisa saman tha aur waqt chalta gaya, tum mile the, sang chale the, aur waqt chalta gaya....

As the melodious strains fill my ears. I turn around to identify the singer. Blinking my eyes in disbelief, I am face to face with the all-too-familiar affable countenance of TV host Roshan Abbass. While the song turns out to be a number from his yet to be released pop album "Waqt" (inspired by a crop of Beswiaas he had been hearing) I am still trying to unravel the multiple persona of "Toofan Mail" host on "public demand". Actor, director, writer, lyricist, TV personality, event manager — for Chrissake will the real Roshan Abbass please stand up?

Well, at this precise moment (The time of interview) he is busy wielding the directorial baton for a musical extravaganza "Starlight Express" (staged by students of Vivek High School, Chandigarh, as part of founder’s week celebrations) highlighting the eternal theme "there is a light at the end of the tunnel".

Bristling with energy, infected with natural joie de vivre, "amidst a swarm of students who seem to be hanging on to his every single word, he observes, "On the down side, working with children as against professional actors means that much extra effort. But the sunnier part is their enthusiasm is so contagious that I can work for 28 hours in a day".

Even otherwise he is working 18 hours a day, virtually living out of a suitcase, shuttling, oops flying, between Delhi and Bombay to manage the tight rope balance which his multiple avtaars demand.

Years ago this youngster meandering through the streets of city of "adaabs" (Lucknow) had landed in Delhi. In the Capital Aamir Raja Hussain, the legendary director, better known for his grandiose production "Legend of Ram", took him under his wings with a refrain, "Well, you have a good voice and shout a lot." As Hussein’s protege he realised that theatre was a disciplined act and more significantly grasped the essence of the famous oneliner. "In theatre there are no small roles, only small actors". Of course, he went on to play the meatier parts. Etching out Henry Higgins in the musical "My Fair Lady" (see I could always sing), lead character in "Mouse trap", "One Flew Over Cuckoo’s Nest,"et al, he toured extensively, traversing the entire country.

Apart from donning the grease paint during college days, he was a keen debater, frequent winner at prestigious Mukherjee Memorial contest. Mastering the 3-B (brains, baffles and bullshit) formulae, he unveils the secret, "In public speaking, never ever goof up. Mouth absurdities (if you please), only say it with a conviction as if it were the gospel truth."

With four shows on the air, where most of his programmes are woven around a skeletal script, anchoring he assures you is not a cakewalk, Roshan claims, "A television host must have all his wits about him and possess an over-fertile imagination."

So, to keep his grey cells forever ticking, he devours magazines like a gazette absorbing "knowledge which is power" from whichever source he can. Small wonder at a point when anchoring has translated into a fine art of mimicry, he stands apart as a compere with a difference, sailing along on the oars of the gift of gab alone.

Tryst with dizzying heights of success which is paying rich dividends — from a host who earned a couple of thousands per show, his monthly earnings have skyrocketed to lakhs! —has also extracted its pound of flesh. His marriage has been one casualty. The infringement of privacy is another. For unlike celluloid stars who are wrapped up in a mysterious shroud, viewers treat small screen personalities as "members of their family and expect television stars to respond with effusive warmth".

But Roshan seems to be enjoying every bit of adulation and knows exactly how to deftly handle his fawning fans which includes a "marriage proposal" from an 11-year-old!

But before he can soar up, he reverts to the ground-level one, thanks to his association with theatre for "this art of histrionics never allows you to lose touch with reality". With five production under his belt, only recently in association with ace choreographer Shiamak Davar he stirred up a riot in the world of English theatre with his play "Graffiti" (involving children of nine schools) which was written and directed by Roshan himself.

But this trained director by profession armed with a master’s degree in mass communications from Jamia Milia University is also covetously eyeing the larger-than-life silver screen. Inspired by the likes of Sooraj Bharjatya’s and Karan Johar’s of the world he promises a complete wholesome entertainment.

But all his ambitious dreams (it also includes a plan to set up an undergraduate acting academy so children need not waste time in acquiring a meaningless degree) are for now frozen in the distant future. As for now he expects you to enjoy his album "Waqt". For me and you time might stand still, but for Roshan life is in a fast-forward lane.

The mirror in Indian art

By B.N. Goswamy

AT the time that I write this, I should have been in Bombay, attending an international conference. But, thanks to the kinds of things one constantly rubs against in our land — "fractured" railway tracks, interminable waits at airports, garbled communications, cancelled flights, and now ground fog, to name our current woes — I am still in town, trying to make sense of things. It is not easy.

However, back to the conference, which was on ‘Shringara’. Somewhat light in weight as the theme might sound, especially for an international meet, I was looking forward to being part of it. For the range of papers due to be presented was truly varied, and I remember being surprised — from the titles circulated — by how differently, and thoughtfully, the subject was going to be approached by different scholars. I do not know a great deal about it but, "The Body" being currently the subject of animated discourse everywhere, there was much stimulation of mind the conference promised, even if the focus in it was to be on personal adornment.

The paper that I was going to present at the conference was on "The Mirror in Indian Art and Thought". There is much in our way of seeing and rendering mirrors that is full of great fascination: the mirror as something that both reveals and conceals at the same time; the mirror as a reminder; the mirror as a metaphor for illusion; the mirror as a means of self-realisation. But much of this may be too academic, and I have no intention of forcing upon the reader what I was going to say in this strain; in any case, without the necessary accompanying visual material, it may not even make any sense. But a few thoughts, things that I knew — and confirmed for myself — or picked up in the course of working on the paper, I do wish to share.

Thinking of mirrors in Indian art, among the first images that come to mind are of those dusky beauties in Ajanta at their elaborate toilettes, or the sundaris of Khajuraho, regarding themselves in hand-held mirrors. But it is not as a highly polished, reflecting surface made of metal alone that one thinks of, when one thinks of a mirror in ancient India. One also knows that it figures in the list of the eight auspicious objects, the ashta-mangalas, that feature repeatedly in those early Jaina texts and paintings.

What is it that makes the mirror auspicious, one wonders? Why is it that Tulasidas speaks of the need to cleanse "the mirror of the heart" with the "pollen" taken from the lotus-feet" of the guru? What is it that is reflected in it? The self, more than a mere face? I remember seeing, a long time ago, a short documentary film on the temples of Kerala which ended with showing a small village "temple" somewhere, built in the traditional manner, in which, inside the innermost chamber, there is no sacred image: all that hangs there is a mirror. The devotee enters the somewhat dark and secluded chamber, and sees only himself. Clearly, there is a statement here, but what is it? Is the mirror an invitation not to look at, but to reflect upon, oneself? Discover for oneself the divinity that resides within?

In the matter of mirrors, there are of course more playful things, among them a whole range of verses —some of them of exquisite delicacy — woven around he mirror, both as a metaphor and as an intermediary. And there are some wonderful images, especially in the area of painting: lovers nestling against each other and gazing at themselves in mirrors, Radha surprised by "another feflection" in her mirror, innocently unaware that Krishna has silently crept up behind her; a nayika waiting for her lover, running a last-minute check on her face by looking into her thumb-ring aarsi-mirror; a ragini adjusting an ear-ornament seated inside a sheesh mahal Chamber; and so on. But each time, one discovers something new, or different, in these images, for the artist is seldom satisfied by a simple reproduction of a face in an image.

In this genre, one of the more engaging pictures I chanced recently upon was a delicate Mughal work, sowing the great Alexander seated surrounded by his courtiers. One of them stands holding a mirror in which the conqueror sees his own reflection. The reference of course is not to Alexander’s narcissism, but to the Persian legend according to which it is to him that the world owes the invention of a mirror. The conqueror, who is always presented in the Islamic tradition as a thinker or a philosopher, wished, it is said, to see not only reality but also the illusion of reality. Only one craftsman in Alexander’s employ had the mental resource to attempt such a thing, an ironsmith by the name of Rassam. He worked long and hard on a piece of iron, polishing and burnishing it, till a reflection could be seen in it. (Hence the name aahana — from aahan, iron, of which the Persian/Urdu word, aaina, is a corruption.) In a vignette at the bottom of this Mughal painting, one sees a group of craftsmen toiling hard on sheets of metal.

A conundrum

As so often, one turns to Amir Khusro. That great and playful poet has a paheli or conundrum on the subject of a mirror (which works better in recitation than in reading).

Farsi seekhi, aai na
(Persian I tried to learn, but could not)
Turki dhoondhi, paai na
(Turkish I tried to find, but could not)
Hindi boloon, aar si aavay
(Hindi I can speak, but with some embarrassment)
Khusro kahai, na koi bataavay
(Let Khusro tell it, no one else!)
One sees, of course, that he is playing here with the words for a mirror in Persian (aaina), Turkish (paaina), and Hindi (aarsi), breaking each up to yield different meanings.

The ‘happening babe’
By Sonoo Singh

"I don’t like classical music, and would like to do just my own thing". In this age of PYTs (pretty young things!) wearing the label of "Just do it" around their lives, this will hardly come as a surprise. And if this PYT happens to be a Channel (V) VJ, a television actress and the new singing rage with her latest release — "Baujee-Baujee" doing the rounds of music countdowns, then this must be "it".

An impish-looking Komal Rizhvi, is definitely the latest "happening babe", who abandoned her architectural studies midway to cut her own albums, act in serials and interview celebrities like the Big B on the small screen.

"I’m a kind of a gypsy", says Komal, who was born in Dubai, did her schooling from London and then Nigeria, did some television serials in Pakistan and finally landed in India to host a countdown show.

Without any formal training in music, Komal hit the stands with her first single album, "Parbat" in Pakistan. "I don’t think training in classical music is required for a pop or rock singer. But that does not mean that I am not serious about my music. I practice every day, but why should I learn something which I just don’t enjoy. Perfection can be so boring at times", she says.

Commenting on the new breed of singers who have mushroomed all around and the synthetic flavour that techno-music has brought in, Komal says, "I think it is great that new singers are getting a lot of exposure these days. Because the singing world is so infantile here, nobody has the right to dismiss any band or singer or musician. Media needs to encourage them. And talking about music-music is simply music. Ricky Martin is such a great hit, but only few would be able to understand his language".

Komal’s latest album includes the number "Baujee", a teasing song titled Chedo na...., an orchestral ballad, Dekho...., and obviously a marriage number Ladki hai kammal ki.....

"I’ve actually tried to sing what I believe in. But at the same time I am very defensive about my music, because with so many new entrants, people are not always ready to support you", Komal says while speaking about her music.

While talking about her favourite singers like Ali of "Junoon" and the Colonial Cousins, Komal adds, "I am not too worried about competition, because I’m not ripping anyone apart. I’m doing just my own thing, yaar!"

Having gained recognition in the field of acting as well (she won PTV’s Best Newcomer Award for serial "Hawaayain", and the Nigar Award for the "Best Actress on Small Screen), Komal is now waiting for "acting-acting, and not running around the trees" roles to be offered to her. Surprisingly, she’s been approached only by the South Indian film industry so far.

A giggling Komal recounted her role as an interviewer with the BPL Oye on Channel (V) and she said, "The interview with Amitabh Bachchan was really bad, man! I was so much in awe of that man that I kept stammering. He’s like a god!

"I enjoyed interviewing Aamir Khan and Sunil Shetty. Sheer fun, ‘cause I clicked on great with both of them. Those are two real genuine guys in the industry."

Play in pursuit of truth
By Puran Mudgal

TRUTH is not just what you see on the surface of things. It may be different. It is at times enigmatic and may defy revelation unless pursued doggedly. This is what the two-act play "Court martial", authored by a known Hindi writer Swadesh Deepak, all about.

An Indian Army jawan Ram Chander shoots down a Captain and makes an attempt on the life of another officer, also a Captain. During the court martial the jawan confesses his crime. But the Defence Counsel is all set to lay bare the circumstances that compelled Ram Chander to commit the heinous crime. He meticulously plans to get at the truth of the murder.

The play keeps the audience on tenterhooks to know the reality of the criminal’s designs. The playwright has raised certain questions unfolding the human psyche vis-a-vis the social milieu steeped in feudal hangovers even after years of Independence. The questions are knit in the warp and woof of the plot intricately and artistically. The articulate arguments of the Defence Counsel are a blend of dramatic artifice and literary finesse.

Says Nemichandra Jain, a noted critic: "Court martial by Swadesh Deepak, a kind of mirror to us all, highlights some of the acutest contradictions of our society. The highest reliefs provided for all citizens in our Constitution are shamelessly flouted in practice by the privileged few leading to ...attempts at violent solutions."

Abhinaypunj of Sirsa, an amateur group of theatre enthusiasts, staged recently three shows that kept the audience spellbound carrying them away till the climax and leaving them fumbling for the kerchief to wipe off tears from their eyes.

Abhinaypunj, a recently constituted repertory, views theatre not as a source of entertainment, but a medium to address social issues of the day. It reminds you of the IPTA days when progressive performers played an effective role in rallying round people to fight the forces of imperialism. The voice of Abhinaypunj may be a cry in the wilderness in view of the salvos of fake culture being fired at by TV channels at maddening speed.

The play was directed by Narender Grover. He also played the role of Ram Chander and was instrumental in building up the climax by his histrionics. Sanju Arora as Col. Surat Singh and Kamal Gangwani in the role of Captain B.D. Kapoor were impressive. But it was Sat Pal Jot in the central role of Bikash Roy, the Defence Counsel, who stole the show.

Stage setting and makeup lent ample support in creating effects. The repertory is planning to give more shows in neighbouring towns. With all constraints and challenges the theatre faces today, Abhinaypunj will have to show grit to clamber up the pedestal from where it can proclaim that the show must go on.

Old melodies

THE Rafi Memorial Society, Ludhiana, in collaboration with Swar Aanchal, Mohali, organised a Rafi nite at Tagore Theatre, Chandigarh, recently.

Popular songs of yesteryear were presented at the show. These included Jhule mein pawan ke..., Isharon isharon mein..., Maang ke saath tumhara..., Piya kaise miloon tujhse..., Ik shahenshah ne..., Chhup gaye saare..., Tukde hain mere dil ke..., Jeevan mein piya tera saath..., Diwaana hua badal..., Thaheriye hosh mein aa loon..., Radhike tune bansuri churayee..., Kaliyon ne ghunghat..., and Teri jawani tapta maheena....

Vijay Vashist, AIR announcer, compered the show. — TNS