By Shadab Hasnain
Everyone is born an artist. The problem is how to remain one when we grow up. These were the words which hung on the Rajiv Kumar’s wall like a verse carefully inscribed in a tomb. Above this was the picture of the Picasso whom he deeply admired. It is really important to mention these words in the start for the reason that everybody who gathered there in the living room of Rajiv’s bedroom apartment kept talking about it amongst themselves. He has really made a mark in the world through his work, said Tapan. Another one said, of course…this is the reason why he has been bestowed with such an honor!
If Rajiv would have listened to these words, he would have possibly reflected over the meaning of these sentences. After all, a personal philosophy runs in the vein of an accomplished artist…Isn’t it? But he was standing quietly and looking at the quote …Something he normally doesn’t do but aah! It was a special day today. Life has come sort of full circle for him. The hall was filled with various media persons, news journalists and close friends of Rajiv; all gathered today to celebrate the honor that Indian government bestowed on Rajiv two days ago. Rajiv Sharma was now a proud recipient Padmashree, highest honor which can be given to a photographer. It was officially a laudatory recognition and lifetime achievement for Rajiv for his incredibly consistent and humanly sensitive work over the period of last Thirty years. Back then in his teens he had joined a local studio shop near his home in Dariyaganj and had started out as an apprentice photographer. Well, it wasn’t purely out of choice that he opted out to work in a photo studio, but more because of the fact that he couldn't afford higher college education. He was 16 and just passed out of the school. His father has died two years back due to the acute asthma, which had worsened over the period of time in the past and his mother was all he was left with in the whole world. There was also an uncle of Rajiv and a distant Bua. They both died in the partition riots. That was 47..today was 82..Rajiv was standing with moist eyes in his living room, looking at the quote hung in his room beneath the picture of Picasso and approximately fifteen people were looking at him at this very moment.
In a sense this was his way to recollect his life from the moment he felt had a significant impact on him. Albeit these words surely had to do something with the way his life took shape and for the immediate relevance, the quote which he was so emotionally staring at. It was Tapan again who asked him inquisitively, Is there something special about this? Rajeev took a pause for a moment and replied; you know what Tapan…today everybody thinks of me as a famous photographer, someone who is fortunately also respected because they think that I have done some really significant work in my career; someone who was able to capture the truth of life around him and I truly feel immensely happy and genuinely uncomfortable saying all this, because who knows? Somebody might feel that I am sounding a bit immodest? But the truth is that this line is really the truth of my whole life. We all are born as an artist, totally capable of experiencing and expressing the various strokes of life, but the problem always begins as we start growing up. You know what…In our quest of becoming a practical, sensible and mature…whatever it means; we lose that honest and genuine touch with life and get entangled in the mess. No wonder, we all talk about our sadness so often and happiness so less and I am not saying this just as homage to the great painter whose masterpiece Guernica is one of the main inspirations of my life but this quote holds totally true for me. Today, whatever I am is majorly because of my childhood spent amidstthe times of India Pakistan partition.Those were the times for me full of adventure and discovery. A real wonderland ride of sorts. I remember, I must have been 9 years old then, my world was restricted to the Kanchas, kites and Aam ka Bagicha (Mango garden), all of them totally responsible for consuming my whole day time then. I knew in a distant way that things were happening in a country and there was an acute sense of uneasiness which perforated in the air every time.Things were good in the start but slowly I saw that my mother began getting so much apprehensive of me going outside the home. Whenever I said to her that I wanted to go to the Mango garden which was located on the outskirts of the city, she made a stern face, even my playing with Kanchas has started irritating my parents and my father often shouted at me and instructed to stop playing with them Kanchas all the time. It all confused me a lot in the start. But the slowly I realized that the situation was grave. At least it was for my parents. It was the time when the partition was on the verge to happen and riots became a reality which wasn’t too far. In a way, being a child of 9 years saved me much from the graveness and apathy of the world, for at that age you always look at life with a sense of adventure and curiosity. Everything around you is meant to give you pleasure, at least you expect and like it that way only. Same was the case with me. I saw partition through my naked and unadulterated eyes at that time. Yes, the partition really caused great horror for everybody and pains of those years cannot be denied. They will always stay with them who experienced it, same with me too.
But you know there is a difference when you see things from a child’s eye.
It insulates you from the horror and not only that, it instills a sense of wonder whatever the circumstances. Whenever my mom sent me to nearby shop to bring half kg sugar or cooking oil, I always heard the uproar of a group of men. And within no time it became quite an easy task to recognize that whether a Hindu mob is approaching or a Muslim one. Whenever such a thing happened, everything came to a standstill. The shops those were open, their shutters came down in no time and everybody just hurried for their home. I too ran for my home many a times. That run is what my life all about; always running with sense of wonder and fear all the time. Not knowing what will happen next. Once I also saw, a man getting killed by group of men it is one of the most horrible moments of my life, which I never forgot. On the other hand, the interesting thing is that when I was sent on India Pakistan war assignment through my company, clicking pictures came easy to me.
That memory of killing was a constant guide every time and it helped me to connect with the pain and misery of death. I just knew the right moment when to take a particular shot. The huge crowd which gathered in the Pragrati Maidan in July 1947, with the common goal of migrating to Pakistan for a better future was an extremely volatile experience at my age. For me, the immense sadness was that my teacher, Arshad sir was going back to an unknown land, a land I did not know. What more could I have felt of partition at that time. Nothing much, only a sense of loss which only comes when you admire, love and respect someone. I did not realize its importance, until one day somebody commented on my pictures, ‘your pictures speak of loss so much’. I said, alas! This was my own way to remember Arshad sir who taught me at an early age the spirit of learning and education. But the most potent experience of those years when I witnessed my sister’s love for a Muslim boy from the neighboring family. At that time, Preeti was 19 years old and really liked Hamid who lived in the last house of our gali (lane). It must had to do with the fact that he saved her like a knight in shining armor when she was returning from her friend’s home one day in evening. Suddenly three Muslim men came and although they did not do anything but the intense hate which Preeti felt on their stare frightened her to death. She died two years back and is left with two children and her husband. Whenever I met her, she often frequently remembered that how Hamid suddenly emerged from nowhere and how she felt that he was a God sent who rescued her from that very situation and safely dropped her home. She really fell for his chivalry and Hamid also liked my sister a lot. At the age of 9, I could understand that.
Whenever Hamid used to come to our home, with the excuse of some work, Preeti’s face would suddenly light up. Both unaware of the plans destiny had for them; the cruel partition happened and Hamid migrated to Pakistan. The pain and longing she felt for him I could understand much later when my first marriage with Akansha broke up. Even after, she was married and really loved her husband, her eyes often spoke of unrequited love and a desire interrupted for eternity by the cruel hands of destiny. Now you tell me, is there a better way to understand what love is all about and how a woman feels when she is not able to live her life with the man she dearly loves and respects. It gave me understanding to the woman’s world and a direct access to her heart. I understood this keenly and expressed through the pictures which were to my surprise were liked by a lot of women. Well, at the age of seventy, on this very day when everybody has come here to congratulate me for the award I got, I would only like to say with all my honesty that all my pictures are in some ways the expression of the experiences I had while India was divided and Pakistan was formed. I was a child then and the way I saw one of the most painful moments of history, it appeared to me as a cocktail mix of wonder, curiosity, fear, enthusiasm and innocence.
At this moment, there are tears in Rajiv’s eyes and he stops speaking. The whole room is silent and looking at Rajiv with moved eyes as if they had secretly wished that Rajiv will speak forever.
Rajiv continues to speak…I just want to say that only by being a child, I was able to take some really honest pictures and this award means a true appreciation of the inner nine year old child who experienced the partition in his own way; the child who craved for acceptance along with love and thankfully got one. He looks at Tapan and says ‘this is why this quote is here my friend and looks at the guests I spoke a lot…feeling hungry now. All of a sudden, a mild laughter erupts in the hall. At this very moment, Rajiv looks at Tapan again ‘That child of partition made a mark on inside world…I just expressed it to the world outside’. Tapan is surprised that Rajiv had heard what he had said in the start of this story. Anyways, with a smile Rajiv addresses the guests. ..chalein lawn ki taraf ..bhookh to aap sab ko bhi lag hi rahi hogi..
They all laugh again…
By Shadab Hasnain
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