He laughs when I tell him how apprehensive I was when I learnt about the festival triumphs (such films are usually boring, and that’s when they are not downright bad). But when I watched the film, I was pleasantly surprised by the taut realism. Rai has also achieved a feat by making an honest, neutral yet non-controversial film that does not have a single sequence of violence.
“It is very important not to bore the audience!” says Rai. “And when you are being honest, no controversy arises. This is a film about Gandhiji who practised ahimsa. So violence cannot be forced in.” The young and unassuming writer-director goes on, “I agree that most films on communal harmony have subtle biases. It is in fashion for filmmakers to run down one’s own community to win appreciation. But once again, honesty is always respected.”
Triumphantly, the filmmaker says, “Even with the jury I had smooth sailing. And there were three Muslim members.” He is delighted that I have noticed the smartest bit in his casting — his only Hindu character is portrayed by Jawed Sheikh, the Pakistani veteran. “I am so happy you noticed that! Yes, I did that intentionally.”
Amit Rai is originally from Bihar but was born and raised in Ulhasnagar and Bhiwandi, satellite towns of Mumbai, the latter notorious for its communal conflagrations.
“I observed first-hand how an atmosphere of mourning is there even today when India defeats Pakistan in a match and their leaders’ photographs are framed in their homes,” he says. “And these are all law-abiding citizens, not criminals or terrorists! I want to get to the bottom of such psyches.”
Very comfortable with Marathi, Rai has been associated with stalwarts of experimental Marathi theatre like Vijaya Mehta, Waman Kendre and Vijay Kenkre, and has staged plays based on famous literary works, but in Marathi. His Dagad Hoth, Saari Raatra, Mahabhojan Teravyaache and Chowkaatli Vihir all won multiple State level awards while his Hindi work Krishna Trishna was based on Pundit Vasant Deo’s poems. The only film he had assisted was the Marathi hit and multi-award winner Tingya.
How did he manage the smooth change in the medium? “I was still telling a story!” he reminds. “And my cinematographer was always with me to look after the technical aspects.” Rai praises his entire team as he continues, “Paresh Rawal, Om Puri and Pavan Mallhotra, my three protagonists, were eager to do the film after I narrated it. And a lot of my team members are friends from theatre. Two of my actors also were a part of my music team. Incidentally, my music score won the Best Foreign Film — Original Score at the Los Angeles Reel Film Festival in December.”
And finally, we come to the interesting storyline. When Gandhiji was assassinated, it was decided that his ashes would be distributed among 23 urns to be immersed in holy waters across the country. One such urn was mysteriously found in a bank locker in Orissa and Gandhi’s grandson Tushar Gandhi (who has done a cameo in Road To Sangam) had a lot of red-tape to clear before he gained possession of his grandfather’s remains.
“In real life, this happened in 2000,” smiles Rai. “But I have taken licenses and to develop a story on communal harmony, I brought it forward. In 2006, I read this story of Hashmatullah, an ace mechanic in Allahabad who was commissioned to repair the truck that had carried Gandhiji’s ashes to the sangam, or confluence of three rivers in that city in 1948 and is now housed in the museum. The museum chief wanted the engine to be repaired. So I linked the two newspaper reports to create my Hashmatullah, played by Paresh, and even met the real man and took his permission to depict him with a lot of his real traits.”
In the film, Hashmatullah has to resist and then persuade hardliners in his community because as he has been commissioned by the central government to repair the truck for carrying the urn for immersion. “As my story says, junk the past, discuss your inner-most problems at home, solve them and move on” says Rai.
For a change, Rai is telling it like it is, and he does not regret the absent window-dressing. “I wanted to make the film without any compromises. This is my small contribution to society.”