In
my earlier post on Hindi movie dialogues, a perceptive commenter asked about my
favourite dialogue from Bengali films and put me in a quandary. The Bengali
films I have watched all my life are not the coin-throwing, whistle-blowing,
jumping-in-the-aisles variety. I have steadfastly avoided Posenjit and seen the
star only as Prasenjit Chattopadhyay. In fact, I wrote a
post on masala Bengali dialogues – mildly poking fun at them.
But when I thought about it, there were so many lines that have come to me and score highly
on the parameters of Performance, Immediate Impact and Repeat Value that I had to excise mercilessly to keep the list down to a small number (11).
So, here is a list – in no particular order (except the last one) – of my
favourite dialogues from Bengali films. I have given a bit of context and
avoided translation. Why? Say the words “But I have mother” and you’ll realize
why.
Unt ki knata bechhey khai?
– Shonar Kella
Every
line which Lalmohan Ganguly a.k.a. Jatayu (played by Santosh Dutta, in the best
comic performance ever) said in this film deserves to be enshrined in a Hall of
Fame for Cinematic Dialogues. But I will go with this non-sequitur which makes
perfect sense in the context of the Bengali conversation where it appears.
BONUS QUOTE: Apnar
Gyanpeeth phoshkey gelo. – Joi Baba
Felunath
When
Feluda realized super-popular novelist Jatayu did not know the meaning of sholko (fish’s scales), he pointed out
that Jatayu is not graduating to Critics’ Choice in a hurry.
Ei romantic surroundings-ey
tomar hoito money hochhey, love is the most important thing in the world. Kintu
Kolkatai phirey giye tomar jodi kokhono money hoi prem-er cheye security boro
kimba security thekey prem grow kortey parey, taholey amai janio. Kemon?
– Kanchanjungha
I
love this line because this was said by a character – which was the exact opposite
of an ‘author backed role’. While the heroine was talking about the mists of
Darjeeling and Tagore, he – an engineer (gasp!) – went on and on about bridges
and dams. But then, he redeemed himself with this line. It was the most
unromantic ‘proposal’ in the world but it had grace, it has simplicity and if
not anything else, it had an element of realism that was the perfect
counterpoint to the unreal magnificence of the Himalayas.
Ki madam, Bangla-medium
boyfriend poshachhena? – 22ey
Srabon
22ey Srabon had many lines that were clever, topical, layered and eminently
memorable. But as a Bengali medium boy, I identify too much with this one.
Every time a Modern (pun intended for Calcuttans only) girl gets exasperated
with the set ways of her boyfriend/husband, this is the taunt. It has been said
many times in real life. I was just glad it has been immortalized on film.
Don’t
forget the funny frustration of the police chief (“amra ki kendriyo sarkar na PC Sarkar?”) or Prasenjit’s gentle but
damning admonition to a late-comer (“Goto
12 minutey 8 ta rape hoye gelo deshey aar tumi goli-ta miss korey geley?”).
Janar kono shesh nei, janar
cheshta britha tai. – Hirak Rajar Deshey
Intellectual
Bengalis are raised with “lekha para
korey jey, gadi ghoda chorey shey”, establishing a direct correlation
between education and affluence. The King of Hirak felt education breeds
revolution and convinced young students with a reverse logic. Since you are
never going to finish learning, why bother?
Sheta ki bhalo na kharap?
– Seemabaddha
As
I had mentioned in an earlier post, Satyajit Ray was mostly about questions and
seldom answers. Nothing exemplifies this
better than this question of Seemabddha, where a corporate executive took the ‘right’
steps in his life & career but was forced to answer if that was good or
bad. The question returned again and again as the answers kept getting tougher
to face.
Tumi amai bolo Uttam Kumar.
– Basanta Bilap
Women
sometimes imagine their boyfriend to be Adonis. Or in the case of 1960s Bengal,
Uttam Kumar. Only in the zaniest situation does the boyfriend imagine his girlfriend
imagining him to be Uttam Kumar. And if that does not happen, then he makes it
happen. One of Bengal’s best-loved Chinmay Roy was the exact antithesis to
Uttam Kumar but with this line, he ensured that he had almost as many fans.
Ami Jhinder bandi noii. Ami
Jhinder raja. – Jhinder Bandi
A
rocking adaptation of Prisoner of Zenda, Uttam Kumar was recruited as a
stand-in for the missing king of Jhind and an army of loyal retainers attempted
to mould him. And just when the directions and training became a little too
intrusive, he turned around and said what Bengal knew all along. He wasn’t a
prisoner of fame. He was the King.
Rape aar molestation-er moddhey
tofat-ta thik ki? – Dahan
Probably
Rituparno Ghosh’s best film, Dahan was an amazingly real picture of modern society
and its hypocrisy. When a couple was physically assaulted in full public view,
a circus erupted. In addition to the attempts to shield the guilty, there was
voyeurism from supposedly concerned parties. In this case, a husband’s
colleague said this line and very subtly channeled his outrage to titillation.
Pratham inaam dewar adhikar
grihaswamir. – Jalsaghar
Satyajit
Ray’s forte wasn’t bravura. His characters were real, not prone to
bombast. But they were never beyond
showing an upstart his place.
Chhabi
Biswas, Bengal’s most legendary character actor, gave a commanding performance
as an impoverished zamindar. And at the end of a stunning performance in his jalsaghar,
he flicked his ivory-encrusted stick to stop a nouveau riche rival from
throwing money at the performer. The host has to do it first, he intoned. And with
regal air intact, he handed over his last pouch of gold coins.
Lokey boley Cruci-fiction. Ami
boli Cruci-fact. Karon ami toh nijer chokhey dekhechhi.
– Mahapurush
He
loved having roasted hippos. He edited the Manu Samhita. He knew Buddha when he
was a chhokra. He was there when Nebu(chadnazzar) was a nabalok. He taught
Einstein relativity. And he was there at the time of Nativity.
Many
consider the film version to be inferior to the novel (Birinchi Baba) but I
disagree – on the basis of this one line. Okay this one and “Kashi Benaras, not kashi khuk khuk”.
Dada, ami bnachtey chaai.
– Meghey Dhaka Tara
And
finally, this is the line I love most. You could call me a masochist but Ritwik
Ghatak blurred the line between compelling and gut-wrenching with each one of
his films and nothing demonstrates it better than this one line. A perfect
ending to a perfect film, it is – on one hand – depressing. On the other, it is
a message of hope.
Honourable Mention
Hamare yahaan Bidya Vidya shob
ek hain, madam. – Kahaani
To
lighten the mood, my post-final entry is from what I consider a Bengali film.
This, for once, needs no context because everybody and their missing husbands
seem to have seen the film (or at least the trailer).
Waiting
for what? Write your favourites down also, no?
All of the above are from
memory. Please excuse errors. (Will try to link from YouTube
for some of them, if I get time.)
