Piyo Chai Suno Kahani

Loss of the legends

I last wrote here about the loss of Pritish Nandy, an editor guiding many through the 1980s when we cut our teeth in journalism. News of his death came on the heels of weeks which witnessed the passing on of legends like Shyam Benegal, Zakir Hussain and Shirish Patel. I had the privilege of having enjoyable interactions with all three stalwarts.

The earliest brush was with the filmmaker who stirred our collective conscience right from his debut film, Ankur. Five years after its release his niece became my college friend. Stirred deep by Benegal’s masterpieces addressing class, caste and gender atrocities, I recall where I watched each. Ankur on television, Manthan and Kalyug respectively in Gemini and New Talkies, those iconic Bandra cinema halls. Subsequent meetings with the man behind the movies were always special, his combination of brilliance and humility so rare, so inspiring.

Moving on to a rewarding early decade of working life. Given the chance to meet Zakir Hussain for The Illustrated Weekly of India, I found myself in the Simla House apartment of both tabla maestros, senior and son, to record Zakir Hussain for a piece titled “My father Alla Rakha”. Among popular themed pages the magazine offered was this double-spread where artistes paid tribute to mentors. Assigned some writing for the series (which included Naseeruddin Shah speak on “My idol Laurence Olivier”), I reached the musicians’ home with my photographer colleague Palashranjan Bhaumick. Palash recently reminded me that the moment we greeted the duo with folded hands, what wafted distinctly up to our olfactory nerves was a tantalising aroma of mutton biryani simmering ready for lunch. “You’ll be bowled over by Zakir’s charm,” Mr Nandy had said. We were as taken by the temptations of his kitchen as by that affable smile spread beneath the trademark curls.

Being in the crisp presence of the pioneering urban planner Shirish Patel was another memorable encounter. From designing India’s first-ever flyover – the landmark at Kemp’s Corner – to conceptualising Navi Mumbai, the urban planner’s achievements need little introduction. I interviewed the civil engineer for his professional experiences with politico-architect Piloo Mody, who straddled public life and a design career with equal verve. “For Piloo, architecture was a holiday from Parliament,” Patel declared. “His manner of drawing buildings was unique. With his intelligence, Piloo wouldn’t put pencil to paper without the structural engineer before him. You were summoned to a cigarette smoke-filled room where he discussed dimensions and spans which then became outstanding sketches.” 

The greats have gone. Their legacies live on. Luminous. Generous. Genius.