How the wheel of time moves. Time was in the mid-‘70s when Sapna cinema in South Delhi played director Hiren Nag’s Geet Gaata Chal to houseful shows for days, weeks and months. At the other end of the city, Palace did likewise. A little later, two relatively nondescript halls, Sudarshan and Kisan, too played the movie. Considering the movie released in the year of Jai Santoshi Maa , Deewar and Sholay , the film’s box office performance was pretty creditable. The audience profile was obviously different at each hall. If at Sapna upper middle class brought up a large chunk of the audiences, at Palace, the ubiquitous middle class filled the space. In East Delhi halls, the proverbial working class segment filled the stalls. Mattered little. Their purchasing power was different –– the tickets were priced as low as 12 paise –– but their love was common. They all came to watch Rajshri’s film based in Bharat, that increasingly distant land.
The Rajshri’s house was well known for movies that had no stars at all. The music composers, the lyricists, the cinematographers were all unsung heroes of the day. The films were a family affair, the kind which a grandfather would ask his grandson to watch. Largely derived from the concept of a happy joint Hindu family with its buas and mamis, chachas and kakas, the films were a celebration of the simple joys of life. So on the one end we had some of the best bhajans composed in Hindi cinema –– you see, the family was always religious and images of Ram-Sita-Laxman were never too far from the camera. On the other end, we often had a lead actor in love with nature as well as the land’s culture, a hero who moved on a bullock cart, spoke pure Hindi and dressed up the typical Indian way with kurtas, gamchas and dhotis. Then we had a character artist like Leela Mishra who dressed up in white cotton saris, cooked on clay chulha, served food in a thali and the family sat on the floor to have a meal together. No larger than life villains, even vamps came sanitized. Ah, the joys of simplicity!
When this longing overtakes you, head for a DVD of Geet Gaata Chal , an innocent little tale of love and innocence. It is a film that keeps the past alive in your eyes, in your heart. The lush green fields, unbaked roads, houses with lanterns and hand pumps, rivers which flow not too far, bullocks that move in harmony, life has a rhythm of its own. Add to that actors who use not a word of English and a family that sings bhajans for enlightenment, and you have a film you cannot but watch with a lump down your throat. And yes, not to forget Ravindra Jain’s lyrics and music. They raised what would have been a decent earner at the box office to an outright winner. Remember the title song, “Geet gaata chal o saathi” by Jaspal? Well, who doesn’t? Okay, then you would still be humming “Mangal bhavan”? Yes. And what about “Shyam teri bansi” or “Dharti meri mata pita aasman”? They come racing back to your mind from a little space on the backburner. And the film? When did it ever go away?
Just for those who came in very late, the film revolves around Sachin, suitably young and enviably innocent then. As Shyam he is a singer, an artist, who is brought home by a well meaning aged couple. Here he meets Radha, Sarika trying her best to adapt to rural milieu of the film. After mandatory sharp exchanges she falls for him. But does the boy love her more than his freedom?
The answer comes in destination. The joy comes in the journey. Like when Sachin lip syncs to Jaspal’s title song. Or Sarika humms Shyam teri bansi ? Or the more voluble Dharti meri mata . Each song is a little showcase by itself. Each tune is signature Ravindra Jain. And the film is signature Rajshri-Barjatyas’ enterprise.
All that is fine but what about Sapna, Palace, Kisan? They are all reduced to footnotes in the history of Delhi cinemas. The film though lives on. Really, Geet Gaata Cha l has a laye of its own.
