<p>It is well known that government-owned channels — Doordarshan, Lok Sabha TV (LSTV) and Rajya Sabha TV (RSTV) — aren’t the most popular among India’s urban population. Few would therefore be aware of some rare gems that have been produced by them that make far more interesting viewing than inane soap operas and reality shows.<br /></p>.<p>I stumbled upon Samvidhaan one Sunday evening during its second re-run. The 10-part miniseries produced by RSTV is directed by the acclaimed filmmaker, Shyam Benegal. Samvidhaan is straight out of the Benegal stables featuring all his favourites — K K Raina as Kulapati K M Munshi, Rajit Kapur as Alladi Krishnaswamy Iyer, Tom Alter as Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, Sachin Khedekar as B R Ambedkar. <br /><br />From the Bharat Ek Khoj group, Ravi Jhankal, Vijay Kashyap, Anjan Chakraborty, Salim Ghouse and Ila Arun are present. Atul Tiwari — who has co-scripted the series with Shama Zaidi — as Pt. Govind Ballabh Pant is perfect, but Narendra Jha as Mohammad Ali Jinnah looks a little too healthy for the ailing Kathiawari-turned-Pakistani prime minister. <br /><br />Likewise, Dalip Tahil is a solidly built Pandit Nehru, but his dialogue delivery in chaste Oxbridge English is as good as the ubiquitous Nehru’s played by Roshan Seth. A new Gandhiji has emerged in Neeraj Kabi, while Utkarsh Majumdar is a passable Sardar Patel.<br />The setting is mostly an early Parliament House — there are just eight rows of members that face the Speaker.<br /><br /> The desks and benches do without the fancy microphones of today. Slow-turning, low-hung ceiling fans complete the scene. Gandhiji is conspicuous by his absence in the Parliament but the camera does follow him into Sabarmati Ashram. In early episodes, where the anguish of imminent partition hangs heavy, Jinnah is found in his private residence, pushing for a separate Pakistan. <br /><br />The costumes are perfect. Achkan- churidar, Gandhi topi/coat, dhothi- turban and three-piece suits are all present. The women wear sarees — Rajeshwari Sachdeva as Rajkumari Amrit Kaur and Himani Shivpuri as Begum Aizaz Rasul — with pallu draped aristocratically over their heads.<br /><br />Samvidhaan puts in perspective the problems that India faced immediately after the partition. It debates on what the fundamental rights of a diverse citizenry should include and what the common duties should be. <br /><br />Why and how some laws were formed regarding reservations for the marginalised classes, the difficulty in bringing land reforms in a vast country where princes, nawabs, nizams, zamindars and practices fair and foul co-existed are clearly debated. The need for a federal structure of governance and then the language tussle culminates in the decision on a national identity — one flag, one anthem, one constitution. <br /><br />The series features speeches and debates that actually took place. The last episode has an impassioned speech by Ambedkar about how civil disobedience and disruptions would be illegal since every grievance would now be addressed in a court of law. This leaves one with a sense of disquiet as to how the learned idealists of the first constituent assembly failed to foresee the yawning chasm that would develop between the people and the Parliament.<br /><br />The smooth transition between events that influenced the process of making the constitution is aided by a narrator (Swara Bhaskar). Each episode is introduced from the lawns in front of the Parliament House, after which the camera moves to something that happened within or outside its precincts. <br /><br />Perhaps the nicest part is the title music, composed by Shantanu Moitra. Three of India’s best-loved songs are joined in a medley starting slow with Iqbal’s Saare Jahaan Se Accha, moving to a quicker, sitar-dominated Vande Mataram and ending with Jana Gana Mana. <br /><br />With its muted setting and strong performances, Samvidhaan is the perfect answer to boring lessons in civics for anyone interested in India’s constitutional history. The episodes are available on YouTube.<br /><br /></p>
<p>It is well known that government-owned channels — Doordarshan, Lok Sabha TV (LSTV) and Rajya Sabha TV (RSTV) — aren’t the most popular among India’s urban population. Few would therefore be aware of some rare gems that have been produced by them that make far more interesting viewing than inane soap operas and reality shows.<br /></p>.<p>I stumbled upon Samvidhaan one Sunday evening during its second re-run. The 10-part miniseries produced by RSTV is directed by the acclaimed filmmaker, Shyam Benegal. Samvidhaan is straight out of the Benegal stables featuring all his favourites — K K Raina as Kulapati K M Munshi, Rajit Kapur as Alladi Krishnaswamy Iyer, Tom Alter as Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, Sachin Khedekar as B R Ambedkar. <br /><br />From the Bharat Ek Khoj group, Ravi Jhankal, Vijay Kashyap, Anjan Chakraborty, Salim Ghouse and Ila Arun are present. Atul Tiwari — who has co-scripted the series with Shama Zaidi — as Pt. Govind Ballabh Pant is perfect, but Narendra Jha as Mohammad Ali Jinnah looks a little too healthy for the ailing Kathiawari-turned-Pakistani prime minister. <br /><br />Likewise, Dalip Tahil is a solidly built Pandit Nehru, but his dialogue delivery in chaste Oxbridge English is as good as the ubiquitous Nehru’s played by Roshan Seth. A new Gandhiji has emerged in Neeraj Kabi, while Utkarsh Majumdar is a passable Sardar Patel.<br />The setting is mostly an early Parliament House — there are just eight rows of members that face the Speaker.<br /><br /> The desks and benches do without the fancy microphones of today. Slow-turning, low-hung ceiling fans complete the scene. Gandhiji is conspicuous by his absence in the Parliament but the camera does follow him into Sabarmati Ashram. In early episodes, where the anguish of imminent partition hangs heavy, Jinnah is found in his private residence, pushing for a separate Pakistan. <br /><br />The costumes are perfect. Achkan- churidar, Gandhi topi/coat, dhothi- turban and three-piece suits are all present. The women wear sarees — Rajeshwari Sachdeva as Rajkumari Amrit Kaur and Himani Shivpuri as Begum Aizaz Rasul — with pallu draped aristocratically over their heads.<br /><br />Samvidhaan puts in perspective the problems that India faced immediately after the partition. It debates on what the fundamental rights of a diverse citizenry should include and what the common duties should be. <br /><br />Why and how some laws were formed regarding reservations for the marginalised classes, the difficulty in bringing land reforms in a vast country where princes, nawabs, nizams, zamindars and practices fair and foul co-existed are clearly debated. The need for a federal structure of governance and then the language tussle culminates in the decision on a national identity — one flag, one anthem, one constitution. <br /><br />The series features speeches and debates that actually took place. The last episode has an impassioned speech by Ambedkar about how civil disobedience and disruptions would be illegal since every grievance would now be addressed in a court of law. This leaves one with a sense of disquiet as to how the learned idealists of the first constituent assembly failed to foresee the yawning chasm that would develop between the people and the Parliament.<br /><br />The smooth transition between events that influenced the process of making the constitution is aided by a narrator (Swara Bhaskar). Each episode is introduced from the lawns in front of the Parliament House, after which the camera moves to something that happened within or outside its precincts. <br /><br />Perhaps the nicest part is the title music, composed by Shantanu Moitra. Three of India’s best-loved songs are joined in a medley starting slow with Iqbal’s Saare Jahaan Se Accha, moving to a quicker, sitar-dominated Vande Mataram and ending with Jana Gana Mana. <br /><br />With its muted setting and strong performances, Samvidhaan is the perfect answer to boring lessons in civics for anyone interested in India’s constitutional history. The episodes are available on YouTube.<br /><br /></p>
