Indian Writing

Film researcher Praba Mahajan sent me this slim volume of tributes to Renu Saluja. It’s a lovely little book put together by friends and colleagues. But how does one “review” a set of personal memories? I’ve put together some extracts from the tributes in the collection so that they become a kind of voice-over for Saluja’s editing career. This is the first part of the post. I’ll post the next part soon.

This post is cross-posted at Naachgaana.
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Invisible: the Art of Renu Saluja is a volume of tributes brought out by GraFTII, the alumni association of the Film and Television Institute, Pune, on the occasion of a festival of Saluja’s films in June this year.

Nine feature films were chosen for the festival, including Saluja’s first major works, both pathbreaking - Ardh Satya and Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro, (both 1983), her first major commercial work Parinda (1989), Maya Mamsaab (1992) and Bandit Queen (1995). These nine were picked from a body of work in Saluja’s tragically brief career (she died at 48 of stomach cancer) that included over forty feature films, several documentaries, short films and television work.

Putting together a set of films for a festival is one thing; it is a harder project to get busy film people to sit down and write about their interactions with an individual. In an industry that is always busy planning its next venture, there is little time spent in taking stock and documenting. This little volume (100 pages, Rs 50) began with Praba Mahajan’s effort to bring out a monograph on the festival films. An appeal on the FTII alumni mailing list brought in more contributions. Not only was there clearly much to say about Saluja and her work – some of the film-makers who began writing about their memories of Renu Saluja were also inevitably writing about an entire, exciting period in Bombay film history. (more…)

…from Bihar, where a rape trial has been concluded in just two days in what is reportedly the shortest judicial trial of such a case in the country.

According to a report, Justice Arun Kumar Srivastava began hearing the case on July 25 and awarded the two accused in the case prison terms of seven years each on July 27.

Update: It seems that there is some concern about whether justice has indeed been done, because the news report seems to suggest that there was not sufficient investigation into the circumstances of the case. The report suggests that the judge heard the doctor, the police and the victim, but it is not clear from the report whether the accused was heard.

Such concern is always valid, and I fully believe that justice should not only be done but also be seen to be done. Yet I would say that my faith in the judicial system is greater than my faith in the way some sections of the media report such news. I have tried to find further details of this particular case, but the few reports that I have found seem to be based on the same set of inputs. News reports are often sketchy to start with; due to space constraints, they may be cut down further. On the other hand if at all due procedure, including the principle of natural justice had not been complied with, I imagine that the judgement itself would be vitiated and would not hold on appeal.

I have no problems in believing that a clear case of rape can be inquired into and a trial concluded within a reasonably short period. Speedy justice will not only act as a deterrent but also give more faith and confidence to witnesses who might come forward to testify in future. So, yes, I have enough faith in the judicial system to feel optimistic with a fast-track judgement.

Only a year ago, Swapnil got married to Swapnaja and they lived in Mumbai with his younger brother, Shreyas. ‘‘It’s sheer coincidence that they have such rhyming names. They knew each other for six years. When she came home the first time, we told her, ‘you are not coming here as a daughter-in-law but as our daughter’,’’ says Prakash.

On July 11, Swapnil was in town. Swapnaja had gone to her parents in Dahisar. Shreyas had left the day before to join his parents in Coimbatore to pursue his MBA. Prakash, a retired electronics engineer is working with Chinmaya International Residential School as a consultant while his wife (Swapnil’s mother) is a teacher there. The Okes shifted to Coimbatore a year ago to give the newly weds ‘‘some privacy’’. It was also a ‘‘career move’’ for Swapnil’s mother. ‘‘When I was working, my career was priority and she was looking after the children. Now, it’s her turn,’’ says Prakash.