Part II: Kashmir’s Celluloid Years

In 1985, a Hollywood movie changed forever the complexion of resistance in Kashmir. That summer, producer Moustapha Akkad’s Lion of the Desert, a film on Libya’s resistance led by an uncompromising aged teacher and freedom fighter, Omar al-Mokhtar against the occupying army of Mussolini’s Italy, was screened at the Regal Cinema. Portrayed by actor Anthony Quinn, Mokhtar’s great courage and wisdom in fighting a mighty enemy and turning down offers of materialistic rewards to end the resistance won the hearts of the audience. They compared Mokhtar with Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah, a mass leader and first Prime Minister of post-1947 Jammu & Kashmir who also had started his career as a teacher, whom they accused of selling out the “enormous sacrifices of Kashmiris for his lust for power”. Abdullah had died three years ago after abandoning resistance against Indian rule over Kashmir and embracing power. As the first wave of enraged young viewers came out of the theatre, they raised slogans against Abdullah and pulled down hoardings and banners in Lal Chowk depicting his name and image. Each show of the film brought out more enraged youth and the authorities quickly took off the movie but not before it had inspired a new resistance in Kashmir which erupted in 1989 as a full grown armed insurgency. One of the youth inspired by the movie was Muhammad Yasin Malik, Chairman Jammu & Kashmir Liberation Front.

Movies on Indo-Pak hostility were not shown in Kashmir for the fear of cinema halls being targeted by agitated audience. It was only after the Indo-Pak War of 1971 in which Pakistan lost its eastern flank that the Broadway Cinema, located in the cantonment area broke this tradition and screened a newsreel on the fall of Dacca [Dhaka] and surrender of Pakistan army. The newsreel was shown before each show of the Hindi movie, Maryada. Streams of Kashmiri Pandits – men and women -were seen visiting the cinema to watch the newsreel while Muslims generally remained away. Later, a feature film, Hindustan Ki Kasam, based on Indo-Pak war was also screened at the Broadway Cinema. 

   

Dilip Kumar’s films would run packed houses in Kashmir. As elsewhere, he had a huge fan following in the Valley. Even the re-runs of his movies would go houseful. Films like Devdas, Mughal-e-Azam, Naya Daur, Deedar, Aan, Leader, Dil Diya Dard Liya and Aadmi would keep on returning year after year to a huge response. In 1970, when Gopi was released at the Palladium Cinema for an All India premier, Lal Chowk wore a festive look with buntings and colour posters of the film fluttering everywhere, and a huge gathering of Kumar fans jostling each other to reach the ticket window. Dilip Kumar and his wife Saira Banu who was his co-star in the movie, also came to the Palladium to watch the film. They had a tough time to wade through the river of fans including men with long grey beard, dying to have a glimpse of their favourite actor or shake hands with him. “A beaming Kumar shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with some of them”, recalls Javed Azar, senior journalist and a former resident of Amira Kadal. Large crowds of fans were also seen when actors Rajindra Kumar, Shammi Kapoor, Sunil Dutt, Waheeda Rehman, Mehmood and Om Prakash visited the cinema hall on different occasions. Actor Ajit was on several occasions seen sipping local salt tea at the shop of Sultan Joo, a dealer in Kashmir Art.  Dev Anand was another popular actor in the Valley. His Mahal in 1969 caused a traffic jam in the Regal Chowk and police had to can-charge people to clear the traffic. Raj Kapoor, Raj Kumar, Rajendra Kumar, Dharmehendra, Rajesh Khanna and, later, Amitabh Bacchan too were popular actors who had a large fan following in the Valley. So were actresses Madhubala, Nargis, Meena Kumari, Vyjantimala, Sadhna and Asha Parekh. Some ardent fans would go to any length to watch a particular movie. When Raj Kapoor’s much talked about Bobby was released in 1973 many Kashmiri film buffs travelled to Jammu, a 300 km road journey, to watch it there before it was screened in Srinagar. 

Films had a deep impact on people. Young boys and girls would dress up like their favourite actors or imitate their mannerism. You had a Dilip Kumar or a Dev Anand or a Rajesh Khanna in every neighbourhood. During 1960s, the Sadhna haircut was very popular among girls. In some cases, the impact was of a different kind. Young Ghulam Nabi Hajam of Drugjan was so consumed by the tragedy afflicting Dilip Kumar in Devdas that he nearly turned mad, grew beard, stopped eating food and wandered on the Bund along the Jhelum for weeks. Ghulam Muhammad Bhat, a 1931 born from uptown Sonawar, was a film buff from a very young age. There was hardly any movie during those times that he missed to watch. So charmed was he by movies that despite being an illiterate, he fancied the idea of writing stories for films and, in fact, dictated one to his cousin. One day, in the midst of narration of a standoff between the hero and the villain he was at a loss for words to carry forward the wordy duel and took a long pause. Waiting for the next scene to jot down, his cousin observed that the silence was getting longer and asked Bhat what he should write next. Using his imaginative skills, Bhat quickly offered sound filler: “Zradga’un”.  The story was titled Mohabbat ki Kahani (The Story of Love) and posted to a film company in Bombay but, sadly without any success. Nazir Ahmad, a college student, was so carried away by Feroz Khan, the black robed hero of a 1974 movie Khotay Sikkay, riding a white horse and galloping through the ravines and mountain valleys with a Kishore Kumar number, Jeevan mai tu darna nahi sar neecha kabi karna nahi, playing in the background, that after watching the movie he announced that the first thing he would do after securing a job “is to buy a white horse and ride to my office”! 

Publicity of the upcoming and ongoing movies in itself was an entertainment. The Palladium Cinema had its own innovative style of doing it. At the stroke of 9.30 in the morning, two men holding a large hoarding with a poster of the film, followed by a band of pipers and a drummer would start from the cinema and march through the streets of Srinagar. Javed Azar recalls that so accurate was the timing of the Band that mothers would rush children to school at the first beat of the drum. Some youth carrying placards with images and names of actors of the movie beautifully calligraphed by painter Assadullah Wani, would also join the band as Mama Gasha’s bagpipe played tunes of popular movie songs. Amused children followed the band as it walked through the city and returned to the Palladium by the time the first show was about to start. At the ticket window, while police constables would fail to control the crowd, a hugely built Mohammad Ismail, staffer of the Palladium, would appear on the scene and feverishly use his cane or leather belt on the ticket seeking throng causing a commotion during which weak hearted and the ‘respectable’ would fall into the hands of ‘Blackers’ who illegally sold tickets on a high price.  Each cinema hall had its own group of ‘Blackers’ who invariably worked under the oversight, if not with the blessings, of the cinema management and local police unit.   

In later years, cinema owners would hire tongas to publicize new arrivals and show timings. A tonga with mounted colourful film hoardings and a drummer inside taking rounds of the city roads was a common sight in Srinagar during 1970s and 80s. Handbills were distributed to draw people’s attention to new releases and show timings. Newspaper columns were also used for the publicity of films. Many newspapers like the Aftab and the Srinagar Times published weekly film pages. Prominent journalist, Yusuf Jameel edited Aftab’s film page for several years, besides editing its Islamic page on Fridays. Film hoardings were also installed over shop fronts in busy markets and in lieu of that a shop owner was given a weekly free pass to the movie. From very early days of cinema in Kashmir, many Government officers and influential citizens would demand and get free passes. They included journalists. In 1936, the Cinema Reform Association asked the Government to issue orders that “no State employee should avail free passes at Cinema houses.” Certain elements would resort to blackmail to secure free cinema passes. On 4 November 1940, the weekly Desh accused the Palladium Cinema of ‘mismanagement, black marketing of tickets, misbehaviour of gate keepers with cinema-goers and overcrowding in the cinema’. Next week, the newspaper carried another piece lambasting the management for screening ‘third class and immoral movies’ and appealed the Government to take action against the cinema management. An explanation was sought from the cinema management and the Manager Kashmir Talkies Ltd. informed the Government that the allegations, made in the newspaper, were false and an attempt at coercion. He accused the Editor Desh of demanding free passes “which he had been availing for four months” and was insisting for more free passes “for his staff and relatives” which was not possible for the cinema management to do.

Many college and school going boys would often bunk classes to watch movies in nearby cinema halls. Head Master Ghulam Ali Shaheed Salmani would, in the middle of a film show, quietly enter the Broadway Cinema with a torch in his hand and catch hold of unsuspecting boys of his High School Badimagh and pull them out of the theatre.  Master Niranjan Nath Wanchoo alias Nerre Kak of the adjacent Sanatan Dharam Pratap Sabha High School would do a similar act at the Palladium Cinema. On 11 May 1936, the Kashmir Students Union headed by Janki Nath Zutshi passed a resolution seeking concession in cinema tickets for students and appointment of a few poor students against some emolument for identification of bonafide students at the cinema halls. There was this section of people, mostly young men, unable to buy tickets, which was seen eves dropping at the closed doors of cinema halls enjoying the sound track of a movie. The State Government also held free film shows at public parks, schools and Panchayat Ghars for the entertainment and education of the people. A mobile film unit of the Information Department, equipped with a projector and screen, would go to different places in cities and villages to hold a film show carrying a social message. The movies screened during 1960s included Do Aankhein Barah Haath, Jagurti, Dosti, Do Bheegah Zameen, Mirza Ghalib, Kabuli Wala, Chaar Darvaish and Boot Polish. Newsreels on subjects of sanitation, small savings and elementary education were also screened for general awareness.

For its lush meadows, white mountain-peaks, brimming streams and beautiful gardens, Kashmir was always Bollywood’s favourite locale. During the decades of 1960s and 70s in particular, film units would make a beeline for shooting in the Valley. The earliest known arrival of a film unit in Kashmir dates back to 1944. That year, the Taj Mahal Film Company, Bombay arrived at the fall to shoot scenes of its movie, Begum, featuring Ashok Kumar as a shepherd and Naseem alias Pari Chehra or the Fairy-Face, as a village damsel. The movie, an adaptation of a short story by Sadat Hassan Mantoo, was laid in the countryside and snows of Kashmir. The crew of the film company comprised Director Sushil Mazumdar, Assistant Director Prabha Mitra, General Manger Samuel Ibrahim, Cameramen Kapadia and Ahmadullah, Sound Recordist Naik, Make-up Director Belcha Parera and Art Director Majeed. The music of the film was by Ghulam Haider.

The first scene was short at the Kabutar Khana, Gagribal inside the Dal Lake. Other sequences were filmed at Gulmarg, the Weir at Chhatabal and Kokar Bazar, Hari Singh High Street. One of the significant aspects of the shooting was that an ‘educated Kashmiri girl’, whose name was withheld, also acted in the film. At the Weir, she was filmed crossing the Jhelum and carrying under her arm a willow basket while a man was chasing her. On the other side of the river, a group of children ran after her forcing her to take shelter in a poor man’s hut. In another scene, Prabha Mitra was filmed walking through the Kokar Bazaar. Another shot of her was taken at the Huzoori Bagh, now Iqbal Park. The crew also shot snowfall at Gulmarg. The Taj Mahal Film Company was so impressed with the acting of the Kashmiri girl that she was invited to permanently join the film line. A film journal refuted the rumour that the film company had actually engaged a Kashmiri Pandit boy to do the female role. The boy, it clarified, had served with the film company as a coolie for a few days. The promo of the film published in the Tribune on 5 March 1946 gave out the cast of the movie which included Misra, a very common female name then in Kashmir, who in all probability was the ‘educated Kashmiri girl’. The Taj Mahal Company was asked to first send the filmed scenes to J&K Board of Censors for approval before the release of the film in and outside Jammu & Kashmir. The consignment of the film shots was charged custom duty of Rs. 16 and annas 4 by the Maharaja’s Government.

Jammu & Kashmir had its own Cinematographic Act promulgated in 1933, and the Board of Censors to keep a watch on the cinema halls. The Board consisted of the Chief Secretary as the Chairman, the provincial Governors, the Senior Superintendents of Police, Srinagar and Jammu and two non-official members, one from each province. The Publicity Officer of the Government acted as Secretary to the Board. Prominent bureaucrat turned politician and the first Kashmiri Muslim graduate, Khawaja Ghulam Ahmad Ashai, served as Secretary of the Board for several years. Others who held the position included S. L. Koul and G. D. Sharma.. In 1939, one of the two nominated members of the Board of Censors was Khwaja Abdur Rahim Banday, Custodian of the Holy Relic at the Hazratbal Shrine. In 1940, the Government rejected a Srinagar Municipality passed resolution seeking to appoint a Provincial Censor Board comprising officers of the Municipality. The resolution claimed that the officers of the Municipality were “responsible for the good moral conduct of the citizens ever since cinema halls have come into existence within the municipal limits”. Later, the Municipal Committee passed another resolution demanding representation in the Board. 

The authority of issuing licenses under the Cinematograph Act vested in the Board of Censors was transferred to the District Magistrate concerned in 1943-44.The Board of Censors was active till as late as 1960s when autonomy of the State was systematically eroded. No film imported from India even if certified by other Boards of Censors like that of Punjab, Bombay or Calcutta was allowed to be screened without the State Board of Censors first viewing the film and issuing a go-ahead. The Boards of Film Censors of different states would exchange information about certification or ban on a movie. The Boards were very sensitive to ethically distasteful scenes and portrayal of the British Empire in a negative frame. The movie Damaged Lives was denied permission for the suggestion of nudity by showing “a married couple in bed”. Likewise, the movie Gunga Din was refused certification for portraying a British Sergeant “kicking a thug” and killing him while he was “at prayer in a temple”. In an unusual step, the British Resident in Srinagar wrote a letter to the Prime Minister of Jammu & Kashmir on 14 November 1939 requesting him to “ensure that this film is not exhibited in the Jammu and Kashmir State as the exhibition of the film of this nature is particularly undesirable in present circumstances [when the World War II was going on]”. Consequently, the cinema halls in the State were instructed not to screen the film. The iconic war film, All Quiet on the Western Front also was not allowed screening for being an “anti war propaganda”.

Some ‘vigilant’ people would beforehand caution the Board of Censors against screening of a film likely to hurt sentiments of the people. The Sudarshan published from Jammu asked the Board to ban exhibition of the just produced movie, Dnyaneshwar as “it hurt sentiments of Hindus by showing a buffalo delivering Vedic sermons”. In 1939, the Punjab Board of Censors shared with its Jammu & Kashmir counterpart a list of 132 movies it had uncertified between 1922 and 1936 and banned for screening. The cinema halls had to also exhibit propaganda films or newsreels known as Advisory or Information Films like Frontline Air Force, Indian News Parade, Conquest of Germany, Workers and War Front, School for Farmers, Tube Well, Musical Instruments of India, and Workers’ Weekend. After 1947, the newsreels were produced by the Films Division of India and distributed among cinemas for exhibition before each film show.

The two decades of 1960s and 1970s will always be remembered as the period when Bollywood used to the fullest the beauty of Kashmir for producing super hit films, mostly in the genre of melodramas. One such movie that instantly comes to mind is Junglee (1961) that inspired industrialist Rattan Tata to visit Kashmir along with 17 of his college friends. Other movies include, Kashmir ki Kali (1964), Jab Jab Phool Khilay, Arizoo, Jaanwar(1965), Do Badan (1966), Hamraz, Pathar ke Sanam (1967), Ek Phool Do Maali (1969), Aan Milo Sajna, Kab Kyon aur Kahan, Geet (1970), Bobby (1973), Roti, Aap ki Kasam (1973) and Kabhie Kabhie (1976). Betaab, a 1980 movie, was shot in a valley in Pahalgam which came to be known after the film as the Betaab Valley.  Silsila (1981) was another major hit shot in Kashmir. At one point in time in 1983-84, there were “over four hundred film units active in Kashmir.” At times, there were 10-12 film shootings going on simultaneously in Srinagar. Pahalgam. Gulmarg and the Mughal Gardens in Srinagar were Bollywood’s favourite shooting locations.

Sometimes, during shooting of a film peculiar situation would arise like enthusiastic onlookers becoming unmanageable for a film crew, or a fan in order to meet or take a picture with a film star creating a scene. An interesting anecdote is narrated about the shooting of Roti in Pahalgam where actor Rajesh Khanna who was then on the zenith of fame had misbehaved with a local guy, Aziz Nartcur. The aggrieved person approached a prominent local man, a Zaildar, who, not knowing enough about Khanna, confronted him on behalf of the guy and demanded to know why he had manhandled him. Unable to understand what the Zaildar was saying in Kashmiri, Khanna in his trademark filmy style responded, “Humai to kuch bolna nahi aata” (I cannot speak [Kashmiri]). Irritated, the Zaildar retorted:  “Hata ma kar yim zanane war” (O, you! Stop bevaing like a woman).  When he was told by some onlooker that the film actor cannot speak Kashmiri, the Zaildar shot back, “Yeli ba Zaildar aesith Koshur bole amis kus prah chhu” (When I, a Zaildar, can converse in Kashmiri why he can’t?)

For a long time after the eruption of militancy and ban on cinema halls, film shooting in Kashmir suffered disruption. It were only occasional films, mostly on the subject of militancy, like Roja, a Tamil movie, and Mission Kashmir that film shooting under tight security cover was held during 1990s. Other films with the same theme subsequently picturized in Kashmir and accused of furthering the State Narrative at the cost of facts include Dil Se, Lakshya, Sikandar and Shaury. In recent years, some movies partly or substantially shot in Kashmir on subjects other than militancy include Highway, Yeh Jawani Hai Diwani, Jab Tak Hai Jaan, Student of the Year, Saat Khoon Maaf, Rockstar, Lamha and Yahaan.

From Bakhshi Ghulam Mohammad to Omar Abdullah, politicians in power in Kashmir have always tried to woo Bollywood to visit and shoot in Kashmir. Some had developed close relation with film actors and actresses. Dr. Farooq Abdullah, for one, is known to have a warm rapport with movie stars. He was reportedly offered a role by noted film producer B. R. Chopra opposite actress Salma Agha. A day before he was ousted from power on 2 July 1984 in the wake of revolt by a group of his legislators, he was pillion-driving actress Shabana Azmi on his motorcycle at Gulmarg. In 1960s, there was uproar about an alleged incident involving a leading film actress and some local politician. The matter was also raised in the State Legislative Assembly where a Member sought to know from the Government the identity of the person involved. On 23 March 1964, participating in the discussion on the grants for the Home Ministry, legislator Shiv Charan Gupta spoke about deteriorating law and order situation and chastity of women being “violated”. Addressing the Chair, Gupta said, “I want to know the person who brought film actress Bina Rai here and where did she stay for that long period? The members who are not seated in treasury benches now, but were so previously, will suffer rather are suffering for such wicked and moral depravity.”    

The allegations of misrepresentation of Kashmir by Bollywood are not new. For long, it has stereotyped Kashmiris. In a Hindi movie, Kashmir is either all about tourism without which its people would starve, or terrorism. There is no grey area. Earlier, if they were boat people or small time handicraft traders ever dying for a tourist to run their kitchen, now they are either gun wielding terrorists or a collection of unfaithful people, sponsored by a neighbouring country and ever disrespectful of India. The 2014 movie, Haider, co-written by a Kashmiri journalist, Basharat Peer, was an exception that avoided Indian nationalist narrative and portrayed the tragic human cost of the Kashmir Conflict, disappearances, military torture and extrajudicial killings. 

People wedded to tradition and cultural values have often spoken about negative impact of films on Kashmir society. Apart from opposing the opening of new cinema halls – the Naz Cinema was not allowed operation for a long time -, newspaper columns were used to express anguish over ‘bad influence’ of movies, especially on young generation. Opposition was also voiced against ‘wrong depiction’ of Kashmir and its people. When film Begum was screened in a Srinagar theatre in 1947, the Kashmir in a column titled, Ye Kashmiriyun ki Gairat castigated the movie for “portraying Kashmiri women in a bad light”. The conservative society did not take very kindly the image of a Kashmiri girl openly romancing with a young boy. The newspaper alleged that the movie depicted Kashmiris as “more uncivilized than the Afican Negroes”. It challenged the self-esteem of the people and demanded the Film Censor Board of the State to ban the movie, recalling that Shouri Film Pictures had earlier made a similar film which was banned in the State after the Editor Martand, Prem Nath Kanna, led a campaign against it. On 21 September 1939, Dr. Balram Das moved a resolution in the Praja Sabha recommending that “boys and girls between the ages of 5 and 18 be prohibited from attending the Cinema.” Rejecting the resolution, Prime Minister Gopalaswami Ayyangar argued that in modern times there were several films necessary for the education of children and if certain kind of cinema films has to be shut out then it should be prohibited for all people irrespective of their age.

During 1970s, when cinema and television had made deep inroads into the culture of Kashmir, voices of concern were raised on weakening social norms. The cinema attracting women audiences in a large number was considered the main culprit. It was during this period that Maulvi Mohammad Sultan, nicknamed as Slacks Maulvi, with a cane in his hand, would appear on the Maulana Azad Road to admonish and chase college girls away for wearing slacks, a skin tight leg-wear. This happened for several days before he was taken into custody by the police. Poet and educationist, Ghulam Ali Shaheed Salmani, captured the public mood against ‘erosion of social values’ in his long poem, Naev Bochhi (New Appetite) whose opening stanza reads:

Naev bochhi laejmetch az chhi zamanas waqtan bronh kun kor parwaaz 

Mael karaan az neichvein paelish kori chhi bawaan majen raaz 

Hayihik parde wudith geyi London zulfan dooh dith geyi maikraaz

Gare chha akh woin kus kati tchhandoan Neelam kaale te subhan Naaz

In 1989, amid rising wave of armed insurgency, a militant outfit, Allah Tigers, issued a warning to the owners of liquor shops and cinema halls to immediately wind up their business in Kashmir. The outfit’s chief, ‘Air Marshal Noor Khan’, attacked some liquor shops in the city, seizing and destroying crates of liquor. There were also bomb blasts targeting some cinema halls. Amid scare and serious security threat, all the cinema houses closed down on 1 January 1990. Nine years later, the Jammu & Kashmir Government gave huge monetary incentives to owners for reopening their cinema halls. The Government was desperate to sell the reopening of the cinema halls as Kashmir’s return to normalcy. Three cinema halls – the Broadway, the Neelam and the Regal – reopened albeit for a brief time. The reopening of the cinema halls did not evoke much response. People were scared of visiting a movie theatre despite tight security arrangements. On 24 September 1999, the Regal Cinema reopened with the Sunny Deol and Mahima Chowdhary starrer, Pyar Koyi Khel Nahi when a grenade was thrown at the cinema killing at least one person and injuring many. The cinema hall downed its shutters. Later, the building of the Regal Cinema was pulled down by its new owner to pave way for construction of a shopping complex. The Broadway Cinema located in a high security zone, was the first after the Regal Cinema to shut down. The cinema hall has since been demolished and a new commercial complex built on the site. The Neelam Cinema remained functional for some time but ultimately closed down during the widespread civil unrest in 2010. 

Since then, it is curtains down for the cinema halls in Kashmir.

(Khalid Bashir Ahmad’s latest book, KASHMIR: A Walk Through History, has just hit the stands. It comes close on the heels of his well received book, KASHMIR: Exposing the Myth Behind the Narrative, published in 2017.)

kbahmad05@gmail.com

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