RMIM Archive Article "339".
From the RMIM Article Archive maintained by Satish Subramanian
#
# RMIM Archives..
# Subject: Kishore - comic hero
#
# Posted by: verma@cs.cornell.edu (Arun Verma)
# Source: Asian Age
# Author: Dinesh Raheja and Jitendra Kothari
#
Witty, dramatic, he was Hindi films' only comic hero
By Dinesh Raheja and Jitendra Kothari - Calcutta - The Asian Age - 13
June 1996
When dust particles dance in the ray of light that bisects the
darkened theatre and the screen lights up, a special communication is
established between the moviegoer and the flickering images
onscreen. And when the viewer becomes entranced with the shifting
dynamics of the world before him, luminaries are born.
It was on a wet day in July 1896, in a much smaller Mumbai with a
population of barely 10 lakh people, that the screening of the first
ever cinema show in India was held at Watson's Hotel. British
officials and their memsahibs came to see this `marvel of the century'
brought here by the Lumiere brothers barely six months after they had
first exhibited their exciting invention in Paris. When the lights
came on, even the pricey Re 1 seaters cheered and welcomed this new
mass medium of entertainment. A 100 years later, in 1996, Mumbai is
home to the largest film industry, in one of the biggest film
producing nations in world.
So what are the criteria that make a film personality a luminary? It
is not necessarily talent or intelligence. It is not regional
chauvinism - film people from all corners of the country efface their
ethnic identity for the melting pot of films. It is a non-formulaic
mix.
But a trait that all these remarkable artistes share, like creative
people everywhere, is a hypersensitivity to life. And the ability to
interpret it for the rest of us. The legacies left by the lives of the
older luminaries hold lessons for today's generation of stars. Many to
the luminaries have had unfortunate ends to their rich lives bringing
to mind Kipling's immortal lines:
This season's Daffodil,
She never hears What change,
what chance, what chill
Cut down last year's;
But with bold countinuance,
And knowledge small, Esteems her seven day continuance
To be perpetual
No doubt the luminaries success has a life span like all things
mortal. But what The Hundred Luminaries of Hindi Cinema seeks to
immortalize are those moments on screen that are embedded in the
audience's psyche-the moments in which they remain perennially
alive. We are indebted to the luminaries because through their work,
they have created a vicariously thrilling fantasy world and brought
happiness to millions of Indians for whom even the ripped theatre seat
is a pew from which they practice their religion of cinema.
The Wizard of Odd marched to the tune of a different drummer. A
multi-talented actor-singer, Kishore Kumar was notoriously eccentric
in the manner of many a genius. At the height of the Emergency, he had
the courage to defy the Indian government. Asked to perform free, he
refused, and was consequently banned from national radio and
television.
Kishore had always been familiar with the vicissitudes of fate. While
laughter was his leitmotif, it had to tide him over a lifetime that
encompassed great highs and abysmal lows.
At 18, Kishore started out as a singer despite not knowing even the
rudiments of music. Abhas Kumar Ganguly changed his name to Kishore
Kumar, left his native Khandwa and came to join Bombay Talkies where
his elder brother (by 19 years), Ashok Kumar, held sway. But Kishore
found few opportunities coming his way. He sang his first song, Marne
ki duayen kyon mangu for Dev Anand in Ziddi (1948), did bit roles in
several films and acted as the main lead in the eminently forgetable
Andolan.
After his marriage to Ruma Devi resulted in a split with his family,
Kishore approached music director S.D. Burman for help and resulted in
his singing Qusoor aapka in Bahaar. The song was a hit. From being a
playback singer in Vyjanthimala's film, he became her hero in Ladki
(1953). It was Kishore's uninhibited comic antics and spontaneous
jocundity that, to a large extent, made Ladki a success.
Kishore's amusingly askew view of life found favour with the audiences
and he now had a flourishing acting career. The comic electricity he
exuded simply lit up the screen as he sang, danced and acted in hits
like New Delhi and Asha (Eena Meena Deeka). Also, he could now yodel
better than the original yodeller, Danny Kaye.
From King Lear's fool to Indian cinema's cretinous caricatures, the
traditional concept of comedian has always been one of lowly stature,
that of a sidekick. Kishore successfully challenged this image and
mixing wit with drama and romance, became Hindi cinema's only major
hero whose popularity relied mainly on comedy.
Even a revered actress like Nargis was moved to name Kishore as her
favourtie actress. This power-house of talent became so busy that he
had no time to sing his own songs and Mohammed Rafi was called upon to
playback for Kishore Kumar in the Ajab hai dastaan teri song form
Shararat.
After Chalti ka Naam Gaadi (1958), where Kishore and Madhubala made
great foils for each other's foibles, Kishore's marriage to Ruma Devi
disintegrated and he married the beautiful but doomed Madhubala.
Taking Madhubala as his heroine, Kishore produced, directed, acted in,
composed the music and wrote the lyrics for Jhumroo. The film,
however, did poorly. His next film, Door Gagan Ki Chaon Mein, an
uncharacteristically serious subject on the relationship between
father and his dumb son, was acclaimed for its sensitivity. It led
many to wonder if Kishore's talent would have survived even without
regular infusions of laughter. Commercially, however, the Sixties saw
a precipitous fall from grace for Kishore. Beset by tax problems, he
was reduced to doing B grade films opposite starlet Kum Kum. Having
earlier given up playback singing, he had to now accept the odd
singing assignment in Dev Anand's Guide or Jewel Thief. Kishore's
creative resuscitation came about with the incredible success of his
songs in Aradhana. As the permanent of voice superstar Rajesh Khanna,
Kishore nudged aside all competition. Thereafter, whether it was the
flippant Rafta rafta or the grave Zindagi Ke safar mein, Kishore's
range made him the uncrowned king of playback singers.
As his fame grew, so did stories of his eccentricities. He put up a
board outside his house saying, `This is a lunatic asylum'. He started
having long conversations with the trees in his backyard, addressing
each by a special name. He surprised everyone by making a songless
film, Door Wadiyon Mein Kahin. He zipped through a short-lived
marriage with Yogita Bali and then raised eyebrows by tying the knot
for the fourth time with film star Leena Chandravarkar - who was only
two years older than his son, Amit Kumar. Incidentally, he called all
his four wives bandariyas (monkeys) since they all happened to be
living in Bandra when they married him. Till the mid-eighties, Kishore
retained his position at the top. His voice still pulsed with verve
and exuberance at his many stage shows. But just when he was thinking
of of retirement, he suffered setbacks in health and in 1987, he
succumbed to major heart attack. Reportedly, his last words were
"Kishore Kumar can die only in Khandwa. Long live Kishore Kumar." It
was typical of Kishore to be unconventional, to the last.
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From the RMIM Article Archive maintained by Satish Subramanian