The cinema halls of Old Delhi provide a unique lens through which to recall the tradition of shared living that helped Indian cities find balance in the aftermath of the violence of Partition.
The cinema halls of Old Delhi provide a unique lens through which to recall the tradition of shared living that helped Indian cities find balance in the aftermath of the violence of Partition.
Right after the partition of India in 1947, legendary film actor-director-producer Ashok Kumar announced a new film, Compelled, With some of the cast and crew answering the names of Nazir Ajmeri, Kamal Amrohi, Munawwar Sultana, Saadat Hasan Manto, Ismat Chughtai and her husband Shahid Latif and Ghulam Haider. After Partition came so quickly, some called the move brave, others called it foolish. The atmosphere in India at that time was, as All India Radio was fond of calling it “tense but under control”. Many of Kumar’s Hindu activists were unhappy with his decision. Dadamoni, as he was fondly called, ignored his reservations, in the belief that this wave of communalism would subside.
One night, they decide to drop Manto home after a late dinner in Bombay. As they reached the Muslim-dominated area, Manto became concerned for his friend’s safety. There was a procession, and Manto’s heart stopped beating as he was preparing for the worst. The crowd recognized Kumar almost immediately, and to Manto’s surprise and relief, “Ashok Kumar, Ashok Kumar!” Slogans were raised. The wedding party was filled with fans of Ashok Kumar, and even at the height of communal division and widespread murder, no one identified an artist with his religion. After the violence of 1947, there was hope for a common future.
overcome violence
Much like it was in Amritsar, a city that had seen massacres after Partition. There are hardly any Muslims left in the city. What remained, however, was the impressive Khairuddin Mosque. The mosque was located in a Hindu-dominated street with several Sikh families in the vicinity. As soon as the Muslims fled to Pakistan, the mosque was left without worshipers. No damage was done to the mosque, as it was believed to be the house of God! Its dome, pulpit, bottom remain safe. No Namaz was offered for almost a decade. Then one day a muezzin came and called for azaan. Surprisingly, no one in the locality protested. Instead, the mosque was given a fresh coat of paint, decorated and prepared for daily prayer.
Many people in the neighborhood had lost their loved ones in the massacre of Partition, but even in those grueling times, they understood that people from all communities had suffered. Had Hindus and Sikhs been killed in Lahore, the same would have happened to the Muslims in Amritsar. It was all the handiwork of bad times, an evil eye. And Amritsar resumed its tradition of shared life. City adopted superhit Muslim societies chaudhwin’s moon And my lover with as much love and enthusiasm who was she And power in devotion,
theaters in old delhi
Incidentally, Hindi cinema played a big role in keeping people together, creating space for each other’s trust, whereas films brought people under one roof. An interesting case was presented by the theaters of Old Delhi in the 1960s and 1970s. Used to be in the famous Chandni Chowk area plush Cinema right in front of the historic Gurdwara Sisganj. The architectural design of the cinema was inspired by the Mughals, and it was truly majestic. The cinema management took into account the sentiments of the devotees at the gurdwara while selecting the films to be screened here. At that time, huge billboards of the film were played in the halls in the big cinema halls. Here, plush Decided that the heroines of the film will not have cut-outs or big posters! When Wall Run for 25 weeks here in 1975, one could be forgiven if one thought that the film starred only Amitabh Bachchan and Shashi Kapoor.
The centuries-old Jagat Cinema near Jama Masjid used to run on the same lines. In the late 1970s, a Hindi film courtyard of mind Screening was to be held here. The management decided to move it to the Ritz Cinema near the Inter-State Bus Terminus (ISBT) as both the halls had a common owner. The film with the provocative poster can be played with the crowd floating near the ISBT, but not with the regular attendees at the cinema hall near the house of worship.
A similar incident, in the 1970s, relates to Moti near the Gauri Shankar Temple in Chandni Chowk. In the pre-independence days, the cinema was known to play Hollywood specials on Sundays. After being hooked on mythological films for a while, cinema became Raj Kapoor’s favourite. His films will play in Connaught Place’s Regal, Chandni Chowk’s Moti and Sadar’s West End. And Kapoor himself will attend the first day, first show. However, in the late 1970s, when Satyam Shivam Sundaram In what was then considered a skimpy outfit, starring Zeenat Aman, Moti refused to show the film.
There was room to make little allowance for the feelings of others. Just as the residents of Amritsar’s locality did not object to the azaan, the people of Delhi were perfectly comfortable with the shabad kirtan in Sisganj, a prayer session for which women had come from South Delhi. Women will board public transport bus, do your own thing Japani to the entire gurudwara. And no one objected. The crowd made space for the women to pray; Everyone, irrespective of their religion, just remained silent and Sikh devotees sang the praises of the Guru.
It was no different in Lajpat Nagar in South Delhi where refugees from Rawalpindi, Peshawar and Lahore had settled. There were Krishna temples, a Sai temple, a Shiva Shakti temple like some gurudwaras. Then there was a mosque on the side of the colony. Hindus and Sikhs touched its threshold with respect as they passed the mosque in the colony, and those in the cars often slowed down, crouched down and moved on. In the temple, the Pandit, sitting cross-legged on a small wooden stool and holding a copper pot in his hand, offered water to passersby irrespective of religion.
punjabi refugee urdu poetry
Back in Paharganj, which had experienced a lot of bloodshed after Partition, there was royal cinema. It began as a ballroom and theater for the “Gora Sahibs”. after the first talkie alam ar In 1931, it turned into a cinema, still playing more Hollywood roles than Hindi films. All this changed with the arrival of refugees from Pakistan. Most spoke Punjabi and went through tough exams. cinema, such as instead of Muslim social screening anarkali And noorjahan, decided to play Hindu mythological movies. Khanna Cinema in the vicinity reduced the rates on mythological films so that more people could watch them. It also made room to enter the hall for those who had mobility problems.
Just half a kilometer away from both the cinema halls of Delhi, there used to be Mushairas, late night poetry-souries, where the finest Urdu poets used to participate. Mushairas worked on a simple principle. chance to read Kalam It was given to younger, lesser-admired poets before ending up with the big guns. Gradually, the location of the Mushairas shifted to the Red Fort and Sapru House. The participants remained the same, and prominent Urdu poets from India and Pakistan participated. Like Ashok Kumar in Bombay in 1948, no one in Delhi in the 1950s and 1960s blamed the poets for Partition.
and all changed
It all started changing. First there was the 1984 anti-Sikh violence, then a few years later the Babri Masjid-Ramjanmabhoomi campaign. And suddenly, Delhi again became religiously conscious. After the assassination of Indira Gandhi in 1984, houses, offices, shops and cinemas were attacked on the grounds of their ownership. By 1989, with LK Advani’s Rath Yatra, the city was forever “tense” and almost “under control”. Shared public spaces had shrunk, colonies made “for themselves” other, What mattered was not who you were, but which place of worship you went to. What we saw in Mustafabad, Shiv Vihar and Kardampuri in 2020 as part of the Delhi violence was the manifestation of a city that was uncomfortable with its constituents, fragmented with people’s ‘us’ and ‘they’ boundaries.
As far as cinema is concerned, its ability to unite the people of the city into civilization is clearly undermined. A city that lives happily. stood in line to take Asif’s print Mughal-e-Azam On the back of an elephant in 1960’s novelty cinema today bent on erasing the remnants of Mughal rule. Remember how Adesh Gupta, the head of the Delhi unit of the Bharatiya Janata Party, demanded that the villages be renamed as Mughal by Muslim name?