The quest for perfection

Nonika Singh

Iam not Neelam Mansingh… When noted theatreperson Sahib Singh utters these words with utmost sincerity and humility, do care to read the subtext. Aware of where he stands in the world of theatre, he is acutely conscious of the mettle of theatre personalities on whom he is busy making documentaries. Simultaneously, he also fully understands how these films are “about them and not me”.

Only as he views them through his eyes, he agrees that the films are a tribute to the stalwarts of theatre. He begins from a space of great regard for thespians, but in the same breath, he also shares how the most important element is truth, which he never compromises with. So if he had no compunction in asking ticklish questions to celebrated theatreperson Neelam Mansingh Chowdhry, he was equally candid about documenting the vicissitudes of Davinder Daman’s life. The overriding concern as well as leitmotif in his documentaries is to bring out the real person. “My vision should neither brighten nor blur their personalities.”

If the films must chronicle their journeys, the turning points and the milestones, they must also put on record the insurmountable obstacles. As a theatre person himself, he knows the challenges of theatre. Of course, impediments vary from individual to individual. For Neelam it could quite simply be the unwarranted criticism of being “too anglicised, too sensuous with her imagery”, something that often comes her way. In case of Daman, it could be the rather eventful life that he has led. But Sahib hopes to bring the facts to the fore without any malice or pre-conceived agenda.

Precisely, that is why there was no script in his mind before starting making the films. He reasons: “Prior to canning a film, I may know my questions, but I don’t know the answers, and they are what will determine which way the narrative will flow.” He realises that his films need to stay true to his subjects as well. For instance, if the personality in question is of the eminence of Neelam, whose theatre stands out for its subtle nuances, dare the film be loud and melodramatic. Unsurprisingly, Shehar Mere Di Neelam ends with the theatre czarina uttering a monosyllabic “Nice”.

Sahib turned to making films because he felt that both Punjabi theatre and the film industry were overtly verbose. Not that his theatrical language is any less voluble, but in cinema he wants silences to speak. “Also, in documentaries,” he feels, “the inimitable flavour and language of each artiste must pulsate. For instance, Neelam and Kewal Dhaliwal may have passed out from the hallowed National School of Drama, but their vocabulary is markedly distinct for their moorings and the reasons for doing theatre are different.”

Indeed, making a documentary on living legends means he has access to all the information. Facts can easily be verified. On the flip side, it could certainly mean constant interference by his exalted subjects, something mercifully he has not faced so far. As he is all set to move on to his next film on eminent playwright Atamjit, he is ready with a barrage of queries, uncomfortable too. “Here is a playwright who shows us not just two sides of the mirror but third dimension as well, like with his play Pooran.”

Observing these greats from close quarters, Sahib stands enriched and awestruck. Kewal’s faculty to combine two different idioms of theatre and Neelam’s to break stereotypes and move beyond the known divides of gender and age have him suitably impressed. Daman’s ability to trump personal battles and write a play like Qatra Qatra Zindagi has him completely bowled over.  He adds, “Only Daman, himself a communist, could have called out communism and dissected its failure threadbare as well as so minutely.”

On a wistful note, Sahib says, “Wish I had made a film on the late Harpal Tiwana and not missed the opportunity to can one on Ajmer Aulakh when he was alive.” Yet, another lament is that if only there was a system by which documentaries could find ready audiences and more screenings. Though he has screened films on Neelam and Daman to acclaim and applause, he rues the fact that these were essentially seen by theatre aficionados.

However, through his films, he wants to reach out, inspire and remind others that success is never a fluke and, to paraphrase Irving Stone, dedication costs a lifetime. The meticulous and artistic way in which he is going about building the portrait of these artistes, chances of his chronicles lasting beyond a lifetime are more than bright.