By Ishtiaq Ahmed

Date:07-11-06

Source: Daily Times

The irony could not be ignored that we had gone past Samundri, a small hamlet, for the first time in our life without even having a good look at that rustic community while Prithviraj could not visit it after 1947 although he longed for it until his last moments. It captured the tragedy of partition

One of the most impressive men to play lead roles and later unforgettable character roles in Indian films was the late Prithviraj Kapoor. He played Alexander the Great in Sikander (1941); Judge Ragunath in Awara (1952); and, Akbar the Great in Mughul-e-Azam (1960). He would have been 100 this year. He was born on November 3, 1906 and died on May 29, 1972.

Prithviraj spent much of his childhood in Samundri, West Punjab, where his grandfather had settled although their ancestral roots were in Peshawar. His career spanned the era of silent films into the early 1970s. He had the privilege of acting in the first Indian talkie, Alam Ara (1931). His Prithvi Theatres staged plays for more than 16 years. Among them the Pathan based on Hindu-Muslim unity was the most famous.

Prithviraj was not only a great film personality, he was also a dedicated social worker. He collected money for Hindu and Sikh refugees from West Punjab and East Bengal who fled to India in 1947, but when rightwing Hindus wanted revenge from Muslims and threatened to drive them out of India he campaigned vigorously against it in the best traditions of Gandhian humanism. In real life he represented Pathan and Punjabi large-heartedness at its best. As nominated member of the Indian upper house of parliament, the Rajha Sabha, Prithviraj pioneered a bill for the abolition of the death penalty.

I first came to know him as Justice Ragunath in his illustrious son, Raj Kapoor`s, magnum opus, Awara (1951). I saw it first in 1962 and then went on to see it 24 times more; on one occasion every matinee show for a week until my pocket money for that month was all spent. That infatuation was disrupted visually when India and Pakistan went to war in 1965, and Indian films could no longer be shown in Pakistani theatres.

The idealism of the film that nobody is born evil or low and we are all largely, if not wholly, a product of circumstances quite beyond our control, was a message that went to my heart readily, although I now realise that class barriers can successfully be overcome only in films and never or rarely in real life.

Prithviraj played the ultra-conservative, stone-hearted judge who abandons his pregnant wife merely on a suspicion to protect his false honour and vanity. The story was written by Khawaja Ahmed Abbas and V. P. Sathe.

Then something happened which brought back Prithviraj into my life. During the summer holidays of 1972 I and a friend, Khalid Mahmood, decided to pay a surprise visit to another friend, Rana Afzal, who hailed from Gojra, a small town close to Lyallpur (Faisalabad). We arrived in Gojra via Samundri on a hot afternoon and Rana Afzal was indeed the perfect host.

At 1.30 pm All-India Radio’s Hindi Service announced a recorded interview with Prithviraj (he had died a few weeks earlier, but we did not know that). To my great surprise Prithviraj began by talking about his childhood in Samundri and particularly mentioned Hameed Pehalwan with whom he spent much of the time. He also talked Peshawar a great deal.

It was a strange coincidence that Khalid and I had just been in Samundri, perhaps only an hour earlier, where the bus stopped to drop and pick passengers. To hear someone talk about Samundri from his deathbed thousands of kilometres away in Mumbai was a very moving experience.

The irony could not be ignored that we had gone past Samundri, a small hamlet, for the first time in our life without even having a good look at that rustic community while Prithviraj could not visit it after 1947 although he longed for it until his last moments. It captured the tragedy of partition. Irrespective of whether it was good or bad politically, it shattered the lives of millions of ordinary human beings. Rana Afzal and Khalid Mahmood belonged to refugee families from East Punjab. Their elders also talked about their lost homes so the Punjabi trauma had hit all communities devastatingly.

In Stockholm I met Riaz Cheema and we became close friends. The Kapoor Saga connected with him too. His maternal uncle Chaudhry Naimatullah and Prithviraj were class fellows first in Edwards College, Peshawar, and later at Law College Lahore. Both were very keen sportsmen.

On one occasion, Naimatullah answered the roll-call in a class at Law College when Prithviraj was playing truant but the teacher immediately sensed that the latter was absent, probably because Prithviraj was too stunning a personality not to make a difference when absent from the class. Both Naimatullah and Prithviraj continued to exchange letters much after partition.

One day in 1986 I had gone to rent video-films from the Bhatti Brothers in our locality of Sollentuna. There I glanced through the latest number of Star Dust in which an interview with Raj Kapoor had been published. It began with Raj saying that his family was originally from Samundru. I knew Samundri had been misspelt as Samundru, but it gave me an excuse to write to him. On May 7, 1986 I wrote to Raj in which I mentioned my visit to Gojra in 1972 that had taken me past Samundri and how it coincided with his father reminiscing his childhood in Samundri on All-India Radio.

A prompt reply dated May 12 1986 written on RK Films & Studios official letter pad arrived in which Raj Kapoor told me that his family hailed originally from Peshawar, but his grandfather retired as Tahsildar from Samundri and settled there. He thanked me for sharing with him my craze for Awara. He then spelled out his vision of the future:

My conviction is that Humanity ultimately will have to have one religion which shall be based on love, non-violence and deep understanding of ethical values. Sooner or later the geographical and religious barriers will vanish and a new era will begin, the era of love, hope and humanism.

This idea found expression in RK films Henna, which preached India-Pakistan concord. Unfortunately Raj Kapoor died suddenly on June 2, 1988. It was produced by his son Randhir and released in 1991. Prithviraj`s youngest son, Shashi Kapoor and Raj`s sons, Randhir and Rishi, visited Pakistan during Nawaz Sharif`s premiership. They went to Peshawar and filmed their old family house. I wonder if they went to Samundri as well.

The writer is an associate professor of political science at Stockholm University. He is the author of two books. His email address is Ishtiaq.Ahmed@statsvet.su.se