It is one’s miserable fate to watch something as reflective as Pyaasa (1957) for the first time in the centenary year of Guru Dutt, nearly seventy years after the film’s release. And once done, it is inevitable to return to it every few months; perhaps, that is where its genius lies, for it remains timeless and relevant, continuing to mirror the anxieties of each passing decade. In fact, it resonates more so with the present-day India, an India that is more divided and fragmented than ever before.
While the entire film interrogates the failures of the Nehruvian era, the plight of sex workers in an ostensibly progressive nation, and the tensions between art and commerce, Sahir Ludhianvi’s classic lyrics and poetry enter this universe at just the right time, making it much more profound.
Vijay (Guru Dutt) stands at the intersection of poverty, artistry, and societal neglect. When he is given a khota sikka (false coin) as a reward after helping a man or when he is deprived of food by his brothers, he reminds the audience of his position in a highly materialistic world. In many ways, Vijay becomes an outcast, an observer and a participant in a society that fails him time and again.
It then only seems fitting that he also becomes the spokesperson for Ludhianvi’s Jinhe naaz hai hind par — an ode to the failed society, but also a mirror held up to it, presenting the grim realities of women within and the marginalised living in the most neglected koochey and galiyan. It brings to light the many facades in his society, all of which come down to the potent interplay of camera, lighting, choreography, and lyrics in the 4 minutes and 48 seconds of the song sequence.
Ye purpech galiyaan, ye badnaam bazaar
Ye gumnaam raahi, ye sikkon ki jhankaar
Ye ismat ke saude, ye saanson ke taqraar
Jinhe naaz hai hind par wo kahaan hai
The shattered life of Vijay stands barren as the song begins; he has nothing more to lose in a world where his personal losses are too much to bear — he has no home to go to, his mother, his only source of emotional support from his family, is dead, and his romantic interest, Meena (Mala Sinha), just left him for better financial security.
He sees the world around him crumbling, and stands in his most vulnerable and helpless state. At the same time, he undertakes the difficult, burdened, and lonely task of awakening his people around him to their falling and defeated realities. The melodramatic song emerges from such a universe, where Vijay cries for help for himself and the world around him, holding the world accountable for the injustices imposed, all while searching and longing for better tomorrows for his people.
Ludhianvi, a communist and an active member of the Progressive Writers Association, wrote extensively on social injustice and the human condition. Having said this, the song presents the hollow existence of society, where commerce speaks the loudest while poverty, hunger, and the exploitation of women continue to flourish in silence.
In fact, Dutt shoots most of the sequence inside a brothel, questioning the agency of women in a society much polarised and run by Peers and Abba Miyaans – the patriarchal heads who are entitled to all the favours within the society, while committing serious crimes and injustices against the women they like to call and claim their own.
Ye sadiyon se bekhauf sehmi si galiyaan
Ye masli huyi adhkhili zard kaliyaan, ye bikti huyi khokhli rangraliyaan
Jinhen naaz hai hind par wo kahaan hain
Ludhianvi’s Marxist views are deeply intertwined and are subtextually functional, where a between-the-lines reading suggests the message of an otherwise highly melodramatic song.
Madad chaahti hai ye hawwa ki beti, yashoda ki hamjins Radha ki beti
Madad chaahti hai ye hawwa ki beti, yashoda ki hamjins Radha ki beti …
Jinhe naaz hai hind par wo kahaan hain
Vijay continues to seek justice for a society he believes can be fixed, until it becomes absolutely blind to its own wrongdoings and exploitation meted out to a particular kind of people. He stands at this crucial moment and gives his society a poetic, almost overt reality check through this composition.
Vijay’s justice is not for himself or for sex workers like Gulabo alone, but also Abdul Sattar (Johnny Walker), who, much like Vijay himself, is an ostracised character and serves as comic relief in the film. After all, all three share the same angst and fate and face similar injustices from society.
The film is a wake-up call for all societies where artists exist on the margins, where their personal becomes highly political, and where poetry is used as a tool to convey the harshest of reminders to the people. The transience of such times is also conveyed through Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaaye toh kya hai, where Ludhianvi again conveys the hypocrisy of the society which thrives on the dead and gone, but fails to appreciate the living.
The film raises serious self-reflective questions about Indian society without offering easy, clear-cut answers. It shows without being preachy, it comments without being loud, and most importantly, its legacy continues to shine brighter with each passing decade, now that the film needs to be seen, watched, and recognised than ever before.
In the words of Vijay himself,
Mujhe shikayat hai samaaj ke uss dhaanche se jo insaan se uski insaaniyat chheen leta hai … Mujhe shikaayat hai uss tehzeeb se, uss sanskriti se jahaan murdon ko pooja jaata hai aur zinda insaan ko pairo talay raunda jaata hai … Aise mahaul mein mujhe kabhi shaanti nahi milegi …
And so you wait and try to make peace with the society you exist in, but in vain. One struggles to make sense of the failures of post-independent India, where hypocrisy thrives, and wealth continues to influence one’s social status, and the truth is pushed to the margins, veiled by falsehood and utmost deceit. Vijay becomes the tragic hero through whom we voice our inner conscience, and will continue to do so till the time Dutt’s cinema exists, relevant and contemporary enough.
Zainab is the writer of the column Frames of Return, a space that explores how films, when told through the right lens, capture our very essence and give voice to resistant stories.