An actor of the masses

Balraj Sahni as Shambhu in the iconic movie ‘Do Bhiga Zamin’

My earliest memory of Balraj Sahni goes back to a scene from the 1953 movie Do Bigha Zamin where he is forced into a race against another hand-driven rickshaw puller. My breaths raced watching the gripping chase and the tragic end that ensued. I came to know years later that Sahni trained himself for the portrayal of Shambhu by pulling rickshaws barefoot on the hot asphalt of Calcutta streets for months, causing him blisters on the soles of his feet. Another scene that continues to echo in my mind is the one from Garam Hawa (1973) – based on a story by Ismat Chughtai – in which Salim Mirza (played by Sahni) exhorts his son (enacted by Farooq Sheikh) to join the ongoing movement following the Partition: Jao Beta, insaan kab tak akela ji sakta hai? (Go son, how long can one live alone, isolated?) Those words summed up the movie’s essence. Balraj Sahni battled personal tragedy – his daughter died of brain haemorrhage – while doing the film and he eventually succumbed to the massive grief. He passed away, months before Garam Hawa’s release.

Today, a lot of us – the younger lot mostly – know the actor for the song (Googled frequently on YouTube) ‘Ae meri zohra jabeen’ (Waqt, 1965). His popularity rests on this legendary Manna Dey number and a few more like ‘Tujhe chanda kahoon ya tara’ (Ek Phool Do Mali, 1969) and ‘Tu pyar ka sagar hai’ (Seema, 1955). However, very few know the long, chequered journey this man treaded before he made it to the film industry. In fact, it would come as a surprise for many that initially Sahni had a fright for camera lens. With time, he perfected the art and his sense of time in delivering a dialogue or depicting an expression were impeccable. His refined performances, with a gentle blend of simplicity and spontaneity made his characters very convincing and realistic. He never compromised on the truthfulness of a character, and this is what endeared him to all. Kabuliwaalah, Anuradha, Paraya Dhan, Haqeeqat, Garam Coat, Lajwanti, Sone Ki Chidiya and so many

Sahni singing ‘Ae meri zohra jabeen’ in the popular multi-starrer film Waqt (1965)

films in which he enacted an array of roles, proved he was an actor of the masses.

However, in his heart of hearts, he was a man who loved letters, words, literature, books. After teaching English in Rabindranath Tagore’s Visva Bharati University in Shantiniketan in the late 1930s at a paltry pay, he worked for a Wardha-based newspaper and got a chance to be in proximity with Mahatma Gandhi.
Later, Sahni went to England and joined the BBC as a Hindi announcer. He came back from London and got actively involved in Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA). It was his social activism that many people adored him for — putting him on a higher pedestal than God. He wouldn’t think twice while jumping into helping a community in distress, working class or supporting a cause whenever it struck his deep inner chord.

Once he spent weeks together in refugee camps lending a helping hand to volunteers after the Bangladesh War. On one occasion, he kept his coat on despite the heat to show solidarity with the junior artistes. The book ‘The Non-Conformist — Memories of my father Balraj Sahni’ by his son Parikshat Sahni (Tagore gave the name Porikkhit (Parikshat) is replete with such anecdotes and a lesser known side of Balraj Sahni. It brings out the subtleties that groomed his persona and character. It is a lovely tribute to an actor who was child-like in his reactions to things, but at the same time very emotional and sensitive to the global happenings – which often found catharsis in his writings.

Did you know that Balraj ji won the Soviet Land Nehru Award for his book ‘Mera Rusi Safarnama’? Gulzar saab once told me in an interview in 2015: “Balraj sahab used to confine himself to his make-up room during shooting breaks, and nobody dared disturb him because everybody knew he must be engrossed in his writing”. The Remington typewriter was his constant companion. Such was his deep commitment and application that he managed to snatch bits of moments from his busy schedule to write. Sahni also penned his memories about his Pakistan trip in a book, which won him huge acclaim. ‘Meri Filmi Atmakatha’ was another gem. Having started writing poems and articles in English, Sahni switched to Punjabi (Gurmukhi) at the suggestion of Tagore, who egged him on to write in his mother tongue.

He was the first president of All India Youth Federation,the youth wing of CPI. Sahni’s 1972 speech at a convocation in JNU (Jawaharlal Nehru University) remains seminal for its incisiveness and insight. As long as we are enslaved in ourselves, we can’t think freely, he believed. He spoke about courage as a cornerstone to achieve success. Sahni formed his own theatre group, The Juhu Art Theatre. These are just a tip of the iceberg of his contributions; most remain unaccounted for…- because he never wanted them to be marketed or flaunted. Humility was ingrained in this spirited actor who never played to the gallery, defied all conventions and proved to the world that the tide always turns… “you just have to float and have faith!”