
This is the true story of Prayag Lal and Subhash. Two Hindus who saved the lives of 12 Muslims in the aftermath of the December 6, 1992, demolition of the Babri Masjid mosque. Again and again, throughout episode 5 of Bhagwan Se Poochun Ke Khuda Se (DD1, Sunday), they recounted their story: how they hid an old woman and her daughter, Razia; how they nursed her brother Aziz back to health after he had spent the entire night out in the cold; how they sent Hassan Haider’s family members down a dry well to protect them. How they confronted the kar sevaks and the local mobs; how the locals more than the kar sevaks were thirsting for Muslim blood.
A touching story, full of sound and fury, signifying something: that ordinary people can make all the difference between life and death, communal harmony and communal hatred. And it deserves to be seen not only in India, but in other countries, too, where ethnic flashpoints have conflagrated into major conflicts. To that extent, Bhagwan Se Poochun…is a laudatory effort. Doordarshan deserves congratulations for commissioning the series and Laxmana Dalmia and Aziz Quraishi for producing it.
However, to be really moving and meaningful, the series had to be more subtle and incisive. When the real Prayag or Subhash talk, we witness and experience a moment of history through their memories. But when we watch the reconstruction of events, we’re in the realm of Bollywood: from the dramatic surges of music, to the dialogues of the characters (humse bura koi nahin hoga, mein Hindu dharam ka palan karta hoon...to the thumping of their breasts and their histrionics when confronted by the mobs. Subhash and Prayag may well have spoken, acted thus; the scenes may well be real; sadly, though, the reconstructions appear stage-managed, artificial and even propagandist.
New serials: Chattan (Zee) sees the return of Shammi Kapoor. Here, he plays a patriarch, who, in last week’s episode, was neglecting his wife: you don’t even look at me, she says looking coy. Mujhe kal ki chinta hai sighs the Bollywood heavyweight. Solution? Get their son married. Son is willing to oblige: he’s already billing at Aarti who is so in love with him that when he speaks to her on the phone, her toes curl up with excitement and pleasure. The producers of Mrs Madhuri Dikshit (Zee), hope you’ll watch the serial for the wrong reasons. They hope most viewers — and not just M.F. Hussain — will stop surfing when they see that famous name flashed across the screen. In order to protect themselves from a copyright lawsuit, they’ve prefixed a Mrs and spelt the name differently. Of course, it’s not Madhuri Dixit but Renuka Shahane we see and any resemblance between the two starts and ends with their beautiful smiles.
In this comedy, Renuka is Mrs M.D. (pyar se inhein Madhu kahetein hain). She’s married to Champak Dikshit. Champak is having orthographic problems: he can’t remember whether his boss said he was “disposable” (as in syringe) or “dispensable” (as opposed to indispensable). Either way, he’s in trouble. Madhu sets out to save him by posing as a rich rajkumari who wants a Rs 2 crore haman for her dog. The funniest moment comes when she makes Champak’s colleague and rival, Sharma, climb onto the desk and bow-wow. Renuka Shahane has the makings of a fine comedienne: she has large, expressive eyes and mobile mouth muscles.Thoda Hai Thodi Ki Zaroorat Hai (Sony) is Ravi Rai’s (Sailaab) salute to traditional Indian family values. Sixty something Alok Nath’s life is transformed in the matter of a few weeks: one day he is waking up his eldest son (and in the process the entire family) for a 5 am walk; a fortnight later, he’s at it again only this time there’s no son, just distraught family members. The eldest son has been killed in the January 1994 Mumbai riots. Nath sits in the park, remembering scenes from a family life. Bittersweet, it should be a huge hit with viewers.
The Prime Minister has changed his clothes. In yet another interview (DD1, Tuesday) he was attired in a white kurta-pyjama with a blue coatee. Gujral was bright-eyed and bushy tailed. He smiled, he laughed. There were tears in his eyes and voice as he spoke of his humility in office. The only possible explanation for his transformation is that on this occasion, the interviewer was a woman, Nalini Singh.


