Godaan: Screenplays by Gulzar

By Gulzar

Gulzar is one of the best known and acknowledged poet lyricist and director, honoured for his sensitivity, best reflected through his writings and treatment of films.
Saba Basheer is a poet, author and a translator. Her first book was a collection of poems, Memory Past (2006) brought out by Writers’ Workshop. I Swallowed the Moon: The Poetry of Gulzar (2013), is the analysis of the poetry of Gulzar, which culminated from her PhD thesis, and is now being translated in Hindi and Urdu.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roli Books
• Release date: Apr 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9789351941118

Book preview

MUNSHI PREMCHAND’S

GODAAN

OTHER LOTUS TITLES

MUNSHI PREMCHAND’S

GODAAN

screenplay by

GULZAR

translated by

SABA MAHMOOD BASHIR

ROLI BOOKS

This digital edition published in 2016

First published in 2016 by

The Lotus Collection

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Copyright © Manzarnama, Gulzar

© This translation, Saba Mahmood Bashir

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eISBN: 978-93-5194-111-8

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Hamari

Ganga Jamuni Tehzeeb

Aur

Hindustani Zabaan

Ke Naam

Introduction

The mediums of the ‘word–world’ are changing. You can hear words, you can see words, and you can read them. With the change of mediums the book forms have also started changing. There are audio books, and e-books, and can be read on ipads and computers, and in some other forms also; other than the printed form. Hence, to reach the rich Indian literature to the new generation, new mediums have to be tackled. To expect them to go back to the printed form only, would be unfair to them.

Therefore the mediums of film and television became handy to reach the classics of Indian literature to the new generation and the future ones. It also helped to crossover the boundaries of the languages to some extend, by using the subtitles in a link script.

Once this thought was discussed with Rajeev Ratan Shah, the Director General of Doordarshan, Mr Shah worked out a very imaginative and creative plan. He suggested to make 50 hours of ‘Visual Literature’, classic and contemporary, from all major languages of India. And thus build a big visual literary library.

That would have been a great achievement.

I had chosen Tagore to begin with. Novels and short stories. However, I was asked to leave Bengali literature to be adapted by the Bengalis. I did not agree with this. On the contrary, I felt that it would have been better if people from different regions attempt at literature from different areas. However, Gautam Ghosh was being considered for Bengali literature and Adoor Gopalan for Malyalam. I was asked to either look at Hindi or Urdu. So I decided upon Munshi Premchand, who undoubtedly belongs to both the languages. In fact, he is beyond any language. Premchand’s Godaan is one of the masterpieces of Indian Literature. The characters of Hori and Dhaniya are world-class creations. So real and living.

In fact, Munshi Premchand was the first major writer, writing about the common man. His short story, ‘Kafan’ can be placed as one of the world’s best story – poverty cannot be defined better. So, I chose two novels, Godaan and Nirmala, and ten short stories. About a 15 hours visual product.

By then Mr Shah was transferred to the planning commission, and the rest of the project didn’t take off at all.

Gulzar

Translator's Note

Translating Gulzar’s Manzarnama has been a journey of sheer pleasure. I will not deny the fact, that it was tremendous hard work too, but I would perpetually find myself working with a smile on my lips. It not only took me down a memory lane, it evoked certain parts of the Freudian unconscious and subconscious, with regard to language. The typical colloquial lingo of Uttar Pradesh (the state where I belong to), got aroused, with the lingering of certain anchoring, of the persistent desire to converse, yet again, in the language that I had nearly forgotten. The language that was so me! The big fat Hindi-English dictionary did not help me, as I was familiar with the words, phrases, idioms, and was also well-aware of the fact that the equivalent word did not exist in English. That was a challenge too.

Translation, simply means to me, transferring the cultural ethos from one language to another. The question that I ask myself is – has the target language been used successfully enough to be able to communicate the same feeling of the source language? With regard to this effort of capturing the cultural ethos and nuances, I have retained certain Hindustani words and have made an attempt to provide a detailed meaning at the glossary. There are many relations that have been addressed differently by the same people. For instance, ‘father’ was addressed as ‘bapu’ and at places as ‘dada’. The word ‘dada’ has also been used for ‘brother’. Mother is ‘amma’ and at times becomes ‘maa’, according to the mood and the need of the hour. I have retained these words, and many others like aangan, lagaan and so on, for the simple reason, of capturing the contextual conditions of the place, where the story is set in. Forms of addressing like huzoor, maalik, sarkar etc are also retained for the same reason. Manzarnama is actually the adaptation of Premchand’s famous novel, Godaan (1936) by Gulzar saab for Doordarshan under the TV series titled, Tehreer… Munshi Premchand Ki (2004). Godaan is Premchand’s last novel and generally considered to his best too. Set in an imaginary village in Uttar Pradesh, the story revolves around the misfortunes of a poor farmer, Hori, who has his heart set on buying a cow but his life gets entangled in the web of debts and landlords, and he dies a victim of circumstances and poverty.

There are some people whom I would like to thank. To begin with, first and foremost, I would like to thank Gulzar saab to have the confidence and trust in me to suggest my name to Pramod Kapoor. I can never thank Gulzar saab enough. Another thanks to Pramod saab for giving this book to me to translate. I would like to thank Neelam Narula too for her constant help. I must add how technology came in handy as there were interesting brainstorming sessions on whatsapp with Prasanna, Shadan, Rituparna and Priya over idiomatic phrases and their translations. Deliberations crossing the time zones, was an experience in itself. A special thanks for Prasanna for lovingly and carefully going through each word that I had translated!

Can’t thank my better half, Amir and my daughter, Sana enough for their constant support, help and understanding. Thank you Ammi and Abbu.

I thank God for bringing these people into my life.

Saba Mahmood Bashir

Before the Beginning

By the end of the nineteenth century, the British Empire had established its foothold in Hindustan; now, it was the time to explore the territory. By the beginning of the twentieth century, it had spread to villages, towns and cities. The industrial revolution had begun. The rail tracks were spreading. Tarred roads were endlessly connecting villages with the cities - like grandma’s patchwork quilt stitched together with bits and pieces of old pillow covers. One such road leaving Lucknow had encircled ‘Bakshi ka talaab’ and ‘khaddar’ under its wings, like two babies perched on the same arm. Haloor, Malhoor and Zakoor were playing in the vicinity. One road, slow paced, was reaching towards ‘Sameri’, the district of Rai saheb. Once it would reach there, it would spread its fingers to nearby villages too. One of the neighbouring villages was ‘Belari’, the village of Hori. Rai saheb was the zamindar of that village and Hori…

1

HORI PUT FODDER FOR HIS OXEN, WHICH WENT about lapping it merrily. If one looked eastward, the other would gaze west. One was Heera and the other Moti. The moment Heera saw fodder in the pen, he hit Moti with his horns and pushed him away. Hori tried to pacify Heera,

‘Oye Heera! Why do you hit Moti? He is your partner. Move away.’

Heera was intelligent. Hearing what his master said, he did move away. Both, Heera and Moti started chewing on the fodder. Dipping his hands in the bucket, Hori washed his hands in the aangan and called out to Dhaniya.

‘Take out my clothes and my lathi. I will go and show my face at the master’s.’

Dhaniya, making cow dung cakes, asked for an explanation,

‘What need has risen now? You had paid him a visit day before yesterday only.’

Hori, knowing the ways of the world, tried to make her understand,

‘Arre, it is only because of my paying him regular visits that we are spared. Even people respect me. Otherwise who else is spared the plight of his lands being taken away?

Dhaniya was not one to be taken in by mere words. She shook her head in disagreement.

‘Hmmm… if we have ploughed the fields of the zamindar, we have also paid the lagaan. Will he kill us now?’

Hori reprimanded her,

‘You don’t have to get into everything. I am here, and let me handle these worldly matters. You only need to concentrate on the domestic chores and in bringing up children. That’s all.’

Dhaniya remained silent. She washed her hands in the bucket and went inside. Hori pulled down a cot and sat on it. Dhaniya returned with the lathi, shoes, pagdi and the tobacco pouch. Seeing all of this, Hori passed a sarcastic comment,

‘Why have you got all this? Am I visiting my in-laws? Even there, your sisters and sisters-in-laws are not waiting, to be suitably impressed with all this.’

This brought a smile on Dhaniya’s face.

‘So what – even if they would have been? You aren’t a handsome young man any more. It was me who…’

Hori interrupted her –

‘What do you think, I have grown old? Arre! A man is strong even at sixty!’

‘Those are not like you. They consume milk and butter every morning and night. The strength comes with milk. Have you seen yourself in the mirror?’

‘You just wait. One day even I will tie a cow at our door. I had promised you this when I married you.’

Hori carefully folded his jacket, making sure that the torn side was concealed within, and put it on his shoulder. In the meantime, Hori’s son walked in and saw his father getting ready to go out.

Seeing his son, Hori said,

‘Look at Gobar. Looks starved for milk and curd. Once we get the cow, he would also