Squadron Leader Anil Sehgal
In the early sixties, I was introduced to world of Indian paperback books. Doors to hitherto unexplored world of newly launched Gharelu Library Yojana ( home library plan) under which the first-ever paperbacks were brought to India as the pocket books.
Hind Pocket Books printed a large number of paperbacks, first in Hindi and later in English as well. These books were sold at a comfortable price of one rupee a book.The publishers sent these books to the members through post at a concessional rate.
I was rather an introvert school going young lad who found great solace in the printed word. Therefore, this home library plan was a boon to an avid reader that I surely was.
Please allow me to give you an idea how much was the real worth of the princely sum of one rupee in the early sixties. Those days, “The Indian Express” was sold at 13 naye paise. And, mind you, it soon found a competitor in “Patriot” that was priced at 8 paise !
My father subscribed to two daily newspapers, besides weeklies like D F Karaka’s “Current”, Russi Karanjia’s “Blitz” and the right winger, “Organiser”.
We also subscribed to “Sarita” and “Mukta”, published in Hindi by Delhi Press.
After taking my High School examination at the erstwhile Allahabad (now known as Prayagraj), under the aegis of UP Board of High School & Indermediate Education, I shifted to my homeland Jammu, for further studies, in 1967.
Jammu Jottings
New environment opened many interesting vistas to my young, curious, exploratory, accepting, and artistic mind, which had inherent yearning to explore theatre, literature and journalism.
Those were the days of the printed word and the radio waves. I was already an avid reader of newspapers and magazines. Reading was a passion. I would savour books in English and Hindi with similar relish. Fiction, biographies, travelogues, besides a large number of books on yoga and natural healing, I would read all kinds.
There was a small lending library in Purani Mandi dhakki. It was known as Kumar book shop. It was a shop that did not sell books ! It lent books at 10 paise a day.
You could rent books of James Hedley Chase, Virginia Woolf, Sherlock Holmes, Harold Robins and the likes in English. The Hindi fare was replete with novels of Gurudutt, Ibne Safi, Shaukat Thanvi, Colonel Ranjit and Ved Prakash Sharma, to name a few. It was here that I was introduced to the world of Inspector Eagle and other detectives !
My fascination for the printed word had already started whilst studying in Prayagraj, nurturing my young mind and honing the craft of writing.
A few writings had appeared in the newspapers printed from the famous Leader Press, which published two leading dailies, Bharat in Hindi and The Leader in English, founded by none other than Madan Mohan Malviya
Continuing my journey, I started writing a column called Campus Notes for The Kashmir Times, an English daily published from Jammu.
This, incidentally, was the first time such column was ever printed in Jammu newspapers. Editor Ved Bhasin was very appreciative of my efforts, the efforts of a young lad of barely 15 years !
Later, the column was rechristened as Campus Causerie.
Participation in debates and skits helped me to fight the stage fright I suffered during my early schooling. So, when I auditioned for a full length three-act Hindi play in Jammu in 1968, I was selected for the lead role !
My leading lady was Prabhat Gupta who had acted in the first Dogri film called Gallan Hoiyaan Beetiyaan. She was almost double my age.
This play titled Sunehre Sapne, directed by Rattan Sharma, under the banner of Roopvani Kala Sangam, was an entry to the annual drama competition organised by the Jammu and Kashmir Academy of Art, Culture and Languages.
I learned techniques of dialogue delivery, movements on and across the stage, and nuances of various elements of the craft of an actor.
This play brought me more opportunities and I started my journey of being an actor, which culminated in directing a full length play and staging it at Gulab Bhavan, in early 1974.
Those days, my elders at home were not appreciative of my participation in dramas that entailed about two to three hours of rehearsals almost every day, continuously for two to three months. They were no different from the elders in other educated families in the city those days.
They thought it was sheer waste of time and put their words of wisdom to my parents. My parents, of course, thought otherwise ; they were absolute exceptions.
I vividly recall a few lovable memories of those days as if they happened just yesterday.
One was regarding mounting a full length play and trying to bring in audience at the princely sum of one rupee per person.
Gulab Bhavan on Shalamar Road, next to the revered Ranbireshwsr Temple was the only public place to stage a play. It had very poor acoustics and steel chairs were placed in the auditorium for the audience.
I was highly dismayed to discover that even the well placed people were unwilling to spend just a rupee to watch a drama and encourage the youngesters pursuing theater. Besides persistent cajoling to come to watch the drama, they also wanted free entry to the auditorium.
Theatre director Deepak Kumar tells me that the situation has not changed much since then. Even today, people don’t wish to buy a ticket of, say, 50 rupees to patronise theatre.
Deepak also tells me of his efforts to “extract” money from the miserly who would love to watch a play for free.
” I just sent out plain invitations to these prospective audience for my play without many mention of the entry fee. As they reached the venue of the play, my team of ushers would then ask them to dole out the money to seek entry, if they really wished to watch the play !”, he recalls wistfully.
Two, I recall a very talented director Man Mohan Sharma, a short statured gentleman with a highly mobile face. He worked as a draftsman with the MES ( Military Engineering Service) and was popularly called M M Sharma.
He hailed from Shimla and was a regular participant to the annual One Act Plays competition held at Gaiety theatre, having won many laurels and appreciation.
M M Sharma was very passionate about dramatics. He was hugely gifted and spoke his dialogues with great felicity. His movements on the stage were like that of a ballerina !
I imbibed a lot from this talented man who I can safely compare with the likes of the great Utpal Dutt !
Alas, Man Mohan died rather young !
Then, I recall Susham Sharma, a very talented actor who played my mother in a highly popular play titled Hartal ( Strike) written by K R Bhatnagar and directed by MM Sharma. Several shows of Hartal were put up in various locations of Jammu and Kashmir.
Later, whilst deployed at the Air Headquaters in New Delhi, I befriended the writer of Hartal, KR Bhatnagar. Kanad Rishi Bhatnagar was a civilian staff officer working with the Indian Air Force. To my dismay, not many of his colleagues were aware they had a famous playwright for a colleague working with them.
Susham had two sisters. The elder one was called Kiran and Vijay was younger to her. This trio was quite popular in the dramatic circles of those days. But, in my estimation, Susham was the best of the trio.
She was polite, decent to the core, hard working, and gifted.
I recently learnt Susham is not keeping good health; in fact she is going through the worst phase of her health, and life.
A few days ago, I along with my wife Seema Anil Sehgal and theatre director Deepak Kumar went to the home of Susham to enquire about her health.
Sadly, this fine actor is suffering from a kind of dimentia in which the brain keeps shrinking, affecting the memory, speech and recognition.
Seeing Susham in a vegetative condition pained me to no ends. She can not speak and shows very faint signs of recognition. But, my name brought a smile to her face and she could manage to utter words ‘Anil’ and ‘Hartal’ establishing she has placed me in the correct perspective.
Last I had spoken to Susham from Mumbai. She was in all her elements and we both had decided to put up a play together, after nearly five decades !
But, that was not to be. Now, it may never happen, unless, of course, a miracle takes place. How I wish it does !
Here is wishing complete recovery to this brilliant co-actor of mine. Amen and Tathastu.
As you read this, today is the last Sunday of the year 2022. This is the last Jammu Jottings of this year, and the story has ended on a sad note, but….
Let us remember what Lucian said : Every story does not have a happy ending, but that does not mean it is not worth telling.
Follow our WhatsApp channel