| From
Tehelka Magazine, Vol 6, Issue 33, Dated August 22, 2009 |
|
| CULTURE & SOCIETY |
|
interview |
|
‘The Valley Is Left
With Just One Faith.
A Beautiful Garden
Needs Many Flowers’
Sanjay Suri will soon be playing a reformed
militant. He talks to E NINA ROTHE about his
complex feelings while shooting in Kashmir
 |
Swathe of memories Suri has returned to Kashmir for his film
Photo: RAJ SURI
|
Sanjay Suri is the rare actor unafraid to
take on unconventional roles. Whether
he’s playing the HIV positive protagonist
in My Brothel Nikhil or a shopowner
during the Gujarat riots in Firaaq, he
always pushes his creative boundaries.
Unlike insider Hindi film heroes, he
hasn’t had an obliging father to set him
on his way. His father was shot dead by
militants in Kashmir. Which makes his
latest choice portraying a reformed
militant in Piyush Jha’s Sikandar, to be
released on August 21, especially
poignant. Here, he talks about his forthcoming
projects and about his return to
the Valley that was once home.
What did you notice as the most
dramatic change in the Valley? And
what had remained the same?
Visually, Kashmir looked like a beautiful
widow who had lost her colour,
vibrancy and smile, and had an
expression of irreversible loss.
So much has happened there
in the last 20 years that
every structure has a
story to tell. Twenty
years is a long time.
After the mass migration
of Hindus in
the early 1990s, the Valley was left with
just one culture and faith. To me, a
beautiful garden needs to have all kinds
of flowers and not just one kind. That is
one change which is so evident and sad.
To me, nothing is the same.
What was it like to return to Kashmir
after so many years of turmoil?
I am at a loss for words when I have to
answer this question. A feeling that I
may not be able to express and articulate.
But I shall try my best to put
forward my innermost thoughts. It
was like going back home without a
place to stay!
I was visiting “home” after 18 long
years. I wonder why I still call it “my
home”. Maybe because no other place
could give me that feeling of belonging,
that identification after having been
called a migrant somewhere, a north
Indian in another place, sometimes even a refugee in
my own country.
But that still does not
answer my question of
why the Valley feels like
home. Is it home or is it
just memories of home,
my childhood, my family,
my orchids, my lakes, my
rivers, my playground, my chinars,
my autumn and spring?
| ‘Too much was bottled up inside me. There were
moments when I would want to catch the next
flight out, but my roots pulled me back’ |
I don’t know if I was happy to go
back after 18 years or not. Maybe I
should have let it remain in my memories,
a lost chapter in our lives. Or was I
scared that I might not like it now
because everything is in the past? The
associations are in my mind and all
those people don’t live there anymore.
It’s not the same. That playground had
no players I knew.
Maybe a catharsis was waiting to happen, but is it that simple?
I believe and know that nature
moves ahead and one should not look
back, but then that “back” is where our
identity comes from. The past is important
because it has prepared you for the
future. And visiting that past is like
trying to find your footprints in the
cold, breezy desert sand.
I was hoping I would find my way
back only to return stronger and happier,
but it’s not that simple.
Why did your family leave the state?
One unfortunate morning in 1990, my
father was shot dead by terrorists at
our home in Srinagar. His only fault?
That he was a Hindu living in Kashmir,
as many generations of our family had
done before him. We had to leave lock,
stock and barrel. Between that year and
1991, Kashmir witnessed ethnic cleansing
and we had to leave the Valley.
During your journey back, did you
get to spend time in your actual
birthplace, Srinagar?
Initially I was reluctant, but then I
did go to my house in
Srinagar. It was very
difficult as all the
memories came back. Another family lives there now and they
were sensitive enough to let me absorb
and spend some moments there. I went
to see my school, my playgrounds, a
local club, my favourite ice cream parlour
and my farm. Some old waiters at
the club recognised me in a second.
They hugged me and started howling
because earlier they hadn’t even got the
opportunity to mourn my father’s
death. I drove around the city and tried
to show my wife my childhood.
What were some of your more
positive impressions while you
were there?
I hope I am right in saying that people
seemed fed up with this prolonged violence
and terrorism. Civilians who once
supported the separatist organisations
seem to have realised that it was a huge
mistake and that all they have got in return
is misery. While the world was
progressing, Kashmir was burning. The education system, civic facilities,
infrastructure, economy, human life —
everything has suffered. Finally, it
seems they have woken up. At least, I
hope so!
Were there times when it felt
impossibly hard to even be in Kashmir?
Yes, many times a day. Too much was
bottled up inside me and sometimes
escapism seemed to be the best thing.
There were moments when I would
want to catch the next flight out and
leave it all behind, but then my
roots would keep pulling me back.
A lost era cannot be brought
back and a new Kashmir cannot
be beautiful without all
kinds of flowers and cultures.
The answers lie far from
our grasp. But what do
you think is a solution for
the troubles of the state?
Like you say, there are no simple answers.
But I do feel an adequate government
and a strong political will is
the need of the hour. Also, involving
people from the regions of Jammu and
Ladakh is key in deciding the fate of the
state as they are often left out.
What is tougher, the daily hardships
of Kashmir or the cutthroat dealings
of the Hindi film industry?
(Laughs) At least in the film industry
one knows who the competition is or
who you are fighting against. In Kashmir
one never knew the enemy, who
could be living next to you.
While filming, what were you reading
and listening to?
To be honest, I was just absorbing the
experience of being there and remembering
my childhood. So there was no
time to read or listen to anything. In
fact, I was inspired to write but couldn’t
do that either.
You have always chosen unconventional
roles in your career and your
role in this film is no exception.
Without giving away the plot, what
drew you to this character?
Ironically, when I left Kashmir I hated
politicians, and now as a professional
actor I am playing one. A story like
Sikandar could be set in any area which
has been facing conflict for years. I
have never played a character like this
before. Mukhtaar is charismatic,
charming and shrewd. A reformed militant
leader – this gives him many layers.
I enjoyed this part of the character.
What are your forthcoming projects?
Besides Sikandar, I have done a supernatural
thriller called Flat. Then there
is Alibaug, a drama, and As the River
Flows, a thriller. We are also currently
shooting for I Am, a series of five short
films directed by Onir and produced by
him and me. All these projects are very
diverse in content and genre. |