{"id":6938,"date":"2023-02-02T17:13:42","date_gmt":"2023-02-02T11:43:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/?p=6938"},"modified":"2023-08-09T13:39:15","modified_gmt":"2023-08-09T08:09:15","slug":"yeh-un-dinon-ki-baat-hai-in-conversation-with-yasir-abbasi","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/yeh-un-dinon-ki-baat-hai-in-conversation-with-yasir-abbasi\/","title":{"rendered":"Yeh Un Dino\u00f1 Ki Baat Hai – In Conversation with Yasir Abbasi"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Yeh<\/a>

Yeh Un Dino\u00f1 Ki Baat Hai<\/em> – Urdu Memoirs of Cinema Legends<\/p><\/div>\n

Urdu film magazines were one of the richest treasure troves of charmingly candid writings on cinema and film personalities. Over the course of seven decades from the 1930s through the 1990s, these magazines regaled their readers with personal memoirs, anecdotal recalls, heartfelt accounts and tributes written by journalists, writers and even actors and other luminaries of the film industry. Sadly, as reading Urdu became less popular, these magazines slowly faded into oblivion.<\/p>\n

Yasir Abbasi, the Delhi-based cinematographer, who had been brought up on a rich diet of Urdu magazines and newspapers, realized that these fast-fading magazines had invaluable records on Indian cinema that were in the risk of being lost forever. He followed leads \u2014 some futile, some fruitful \u2014 to obscure towns and people’s homes in a last-ditch effort to save the faded magazines and original texts. He translated some of the many unique and touching memoirs covering a wide spectrum of artists from the world of the movies and collated them in\u00a0Yeh Un Dino\u00f1 Ki Baat Hai,<\/em> published by Bloomsbury.<\/p>\n

Excerpts from the interview:<\/p>\n

Antara:<\/strong> Before we talk about your book, please tell us about the background that equipped you to eventually write it \u2013 about your education in Gorakhpur and Lucknow. You had mentioned you learned Urdu under the guidance of Maulvi sahib while studying in an English medium school. Learning is one thing but how did you develop your love for reading Urdu?<\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir Abbasi:<\/strong> My early education happened in Gorakhpur and Lucknow. The schools were all English medium, and a maulvi saheb would come home in the evenings to teach Urdu. This happened till class 12, I think. But another form of crucial learning was simultaneously happening all through my growing up years \u2014 hearing Urdu at home and around me, in general. That\u2019s how I picked up the finer points of usage and pronunciation, and actually \u2018learnt\u2019 the language, so to speak.<\/p>\n

As for the reading (the voluntary kind), it was mostly limited to my favourite subject \u2014 cinema. My mother was a subscriber of the noted film magazine Shama<\/em>, which I would keenly read every month. Other than that, there was an Urdu newspaper called Qaumi Awaaz<\/em>, the Monday edition of which carried a full 2-page spread on the movies. As with all kids, I too was encouraged to read newspapers. So, while reading Qaumi Awaaz<\/em>, I would place myself in the busiest corner of the house so that everyone could see I was reading a newspaper, and an Urdu one to boot!<\/p>\n

Antara:<\/strong> What kind of Urdu magazines were popular \u2014 cinema journals, women\u2019s magazines, literary periodicals? How were they different from, say, English or Hindi periodicals? How have they changed with times? Yasir, I am familiar with Bangla magazines \u2013 there was a host of children\u2019s magazines, women\u2019s mags, pure literature magazines, current affairs mags and so on. All these magazines published write-ups by prominent writers, including children\u2019s mags. Sometimes even actors, music makers and sports stars wrote in them. Many are still continuing with elan. Hence the question.<\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> Till the mid-1990s, all kinds of Urdu magazines were immensely popular. Shama, Ruby<\/em> (film + literary), Biswin Sadi, Shabistan<\/em> (literary), Khilona<\/em> (children), Bano, Huma <\/em>(women), Mujrim<\/em> (crime) \u2013 there were so many of them. The paper\/print quality was clearly lower than the glossier (and more expensive) English ones but the quality of content was remarkably high (I\u2019m talking of major publications here. Of course, periodicals with shoddy content existed as well).<\/p>\n

The Urdu film magazines were \u00ad\u00ad\u00ad\u00ad semi-literary, hence they were not really looked down upon or considered frivolous like it happened with the English and Hindi ones. Unfortunately, Urdu was steadily marginalised, leading to a gradual shutting of publications, and arrival of the internet further killed the readership. There\u2019s practically no Urdu film magazine for over 20 years now, and that\u2019s regrettable.<\/p>\n

\"Begum<\/a>

Sample articles – Begum Para and Johnny Walker<\/p><\/div>\n

Antara:<\/strong> What inspired you to do mass communication and take up cinematography as a career? Is it because of your childhood influences, as you mentioned, your uncle fed you with film magazines and your mother had such a keen listening ear? <\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> In today\u2019s times where children have their careers all figured out in their school days itself, it\u2019s kind of odd to confess that I opted for mass communication only because it seemed like an interesting thing to do at that point (I\u2019m sure my fondness for cinema must\u2019ve also influenced the decision). The exposure to cinematography happened in college \u2014 I really enjoyed it, and subsequently took it up professionally.<\/p>\n

Antara:<\/strong> How did the idea of the book strike you? And why focus on cinema? <\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> Initially, there was no plan for a book. I started looking for Urdu film magazines out of plain curiosity. And once I managed to find some, I discovered stunning content. The biographical write-ups by film personalities carry important factual information and are thoroughly engaging as well. The reader is able to trace not just life stories of people but also the times they lived in.<\/p>\n

Besides, film history is a subject that interests me a lot, and I know there are a lot of gaps and loose ends there. The Urdu film magazine, by virtue of a sustained presence for over seven decades, fills some of those gaps and hence relevant from an archiving point of view too. All these strands came together and helped the idea of the book take shape.<\/p>\n

Antara:<\/strong> You have mentioned how difficult it was to source the magazines. Tell us about some interesting incidents that happened during this research and what kind of help you received. <\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> Tracking down the magazines was quite a journey! Looking back, now I\u2019m surprised at some of the things I did, like travelling to remote corners in the country, following thin, vague leads. Sometimes it didn\u2019t work out, but when it did, it more than made up for all the dead-ends. Then there was the luck element. I went to the Raza library in Rampur anticipating multiple shelves stacked with old film magazines, but just found a few stray copies there. On my way back from the place, a chance encounter with a gentleman led to a bunch of publications I had never even heard of. And he was most generous in lending them.<\/p>\n

Actually, I was fortunate to find so many kind souls who went out of their way to help me, giving me complete access to their collections. There were a few disappointing episodes too, when people had what I was looking for but simply refused to share (an old, reasonably well-known poet in Lucknow rattled off names of pre-Independence publications in his personal library and then quoted an obnoxious amount of money for photocopies). But that only made me more determined to find it elsewhere.<\/p>\n

\"Urdu<\/a>

Urdu film magazines<\/p><\/div>\n

Antara:<\/strong> How did you archive and collate the material you accessed? What made you choose these articles among the many that you must have found interesting?<\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> There were several factors at work. Apart from some heartfelt stories that immediately stood out on their own, I tried to include a variety of individuals as well as writing styles. Moreover, as I mentioned earlier, pieces which helped fill gaps in the existing film history documentation. For instance, Jaidev\u2019s life and career have hardly been written about in depth. His comprehensive autobiographical essay lists the smallest of details right from his childhood to his last days \u2014 it\u2019s a priceless memoir now reduced to the pages of a defunct journal. It surely doesn\u2019t deserve to wither away due to Urdu\u2019s falling out of favour. Similarly, I found plenty of material that\u2019s significant and worthy of being preserved.<\/p>\n

Antara:<\/strong> When it comes to translation, there are two ways of going about it. One is to literally translate word by word and the other to retain the essence. What was your approach? And that brings me to another question \u2014 how did you manage words that are sort untranslatable, words that are intrinsic to our culture and have no synonyms in English? Yasir, for instance a very common Bangla word ‘adda’ refers to the gathering of like-minded\u00a0individuals animatedly chatting, discussing, debating on anything under the sun \u2014 can refer to fun gatherings and highly cerebral discussions, which is part of the Bengali culture. English has no such word.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> I think not losing the essence of the original is what every translator strives for, and I\u2019m no different. The accompanying aspect is a little tricky. One often comes across translations that digress from the original text just to get the essence right. That\u2019s not the ideal thing to do. Word for word translations are obviously unnecessary (and impractical), yet I think the endeavour should be to remain as close to the original text as possible and not go about interpreting the writer\u2019s thoughts.<\/p>\n

If I didn\u2019t find an English equivalent for some word, I left it in its original form (and added a footnote, if required). For example, I don\u2019t think there\u2019s a precise word for \u2018tawaif\u2019 in English, so it hasn\u2019t been translated. I must add here that a great deal of such words are so popular that they don\u2019t even need to be translated.<\/p>\n

Antara:<\/strong> Any write-ups that you found particularly challenging to translate? <\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> The ones by professional writers like Kaifi Azmi, Ismat Chughtai, Dr. Rahi Masoom Raza, and others were challenging because of the nuances they carry in terms of references, wordplay, etc. To quote an example, towards the beginning of his pen-portrait of Sahir, Kaifi casually uses the term do furlong lambi sadak<\/em>. Now, that\u2019s the title of a short story by Krishan Chander and I had to look for and read it just to understand the exact thing that Kaifi wanted to convey. Not to forget, translating even straightforward segments of such high-quality writing was a tall order in itself. What if I got something wrong, or worse, not get it at all? Such thoughts did lead to minor panic attacks once in a while!<\/p>\n

\"Yeh<\/a>

Yeh Un Dino\u00f1 Ki Baat Hai<\/em> – back cover with quotes<\/p><\/div>\n

Antara:<\/strong> When I received my copy, the first one I read was the one by Nargis on Meena Kumari \u2014 such a stunning opening line \u2014 \u201cMeena \u2013 maut mubarak ho!\u201d And I flipped through the pages and the next one I stopped by to read was by Javed Siddiqui on Satyajit Ray. Such a fascinating snapshot of the finest among filmmakers and the making of a classic in the space of a few pages. When you were researching and organising your material, any particular write-ups\/material that left you in awe? There might have been several but\u00a0do share a few experiences with us. <\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> Even though it\u2019s largely true, let me avoid the I-like-them-all clich\u00e9.<\/p>\n

I was quite thrilled to find Naushad\u2019s description of K. Asif. One had frequently heard of the filmmaker in glowing terms but those were always generic references to his magnanimity, perfectionism, etc. Naushad brings him up and close, narrating one riveting anecdote after another, and by the time the feature wraps up, one is more aware of the incredible man that Asif was. Also, Mughal-e-Azam<\/em> is an all-time favourite and to get a blow-by-blow account of its making from a person so closely linked to it was truly engrossing.<\/p>\n

The light-hearted piece on Sa\u2019adat Hasan Manto by Raja Mehdi Ali Khan was another one I really enjoyed. Even while translating it, I was laughing along. I think it would make for a tremendous short film. Imagine, Manto, Shyam and Raja Mehdi Ali Khan with a femme fatale on a crazy night!<\/p>\n

Antara:<\/strong> The structure of the book is certainly very impressive. The book is divided into three sections \u2014 Khaakay (Pen Portraits), Aap-Beeti (Reminiscences) and Nuqta-e-Nazar (Perspectives). Each piece is embellished with pencil sketches and a brief bio of the person writing and the one who is being written about. And there is also a capsule of the original Urdu write-up. And also picture inserts of posters and stills. Tell us about the thoughts behind the making of this structure.<\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> Once the material was finalised, the idea of dividing it into the three sections was a natural progression, owing to the nature of the pieces. Himanjali Sankar, my wonderful publisher, was most supportive of all the ideas. Each time I lost track of objectivity, she would gently bring in the much-needed perspective. The bios, sketches, etc were included for a multitude of reasons \u2014 from highlighting individual contributions to putting faces to now-forgotten names to simply evoking a sense of nostalgia.<\/p>\n

For the illustrations, a more practical but equally important reason was providing visual breaks at regular intervals. It helped, of course, that there was an in-house artist (Geetika, my wife, has made the sketches) I could turn to. Also, since I wasn\u2019t too sure about my translation skills, having all these supplements was part of an elaborate cover-up plan!<\/p>\n

\"Yasir

Yasir Abbasi<\/p><\/div>\n

Antara:<\/strong> In Khaakay, you have put together delightful, deeply personal memoirs of celebrities writing about fellow contemporary celebrities, full of anecdotes, opinions, humour and also a tinge of sorrow. It is an up-close and personal look at the legends we admire. Were they all such good writers? Some of them of course were professionals but the rest?<\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> Even the non-writers like Nargis or Iftekhar are so effective because they\u2019ve articulated their thoughts with a lot of honesty, besides providing all those amazing first-person accounts. All the writers give their subjects the respect they deserve, but, at the same time, don\u2019t shy away from pointing out their flaws either. Non-professional writing can be charming in its own way. The warm, personal stories, narrated with integrity, carry a distinct appeal for the readers. There\u2019s an instant connect with the emotions they evoke, and I guess that point alone makes them good writers.<\/p>\n

Antara:<\/strong> Aap-Beeti essays are miniature autobiographies almost \u2014 at times daringly candid. Isn\u2019t it a difficult job to concise your life in a few pages, especially when you are not a professional writer? Urdu magazines seem to have brought out hidden gems.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> Urdu was the first language of nearly every writer featured in the book, and naturally, one is most expressive in one\u2019s native language. That\u2019s why the text flows so well. You can easily imagine \u2018hearing\u2019 the original articles of, say, Dilip Kumar, Nadira or Johnny Walker in their own voices. The candour indicates that as a society, we were perhaps a little less uptight in the bygone era. Also, credit to the publications too for not selectively pulling out juicy bits and sensationalising them. The most controversial of opinions were put across within the realms of tameez<\/em> and tehzeeb<\/em>. Urdu film magazines operated with a certain degree of decorum and this had an influence on the content too.<\/p>\n

Antara:<\/strong> Tell us about the feedback the book received. <\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> It was most unexpected. While working on the book, I was convinced that apart from a handful of nostalgia-loving senior citizens, nobody would be interested in reading about Urdu film magazines and yesteryear film people, many of whom have since faded into oblivion. However, I was pleasantly surprised at the interest the book generated right from the moment the release date was announced. The response that followed was extremely rewarding, and readers cutting across age groups have been very kind in their feedback.<\/p>\n

Antara:<\/strong> Archiving or preservation is not our strong point \u2014 be it literature, films, memorabilia, music recordings, documentaries \u2014 we have lost many treasures. Your book has brought to the fore how urgently we need to put our house in order. Based on your experiences, what would you suggest to be done to archive this rich content?<\/em><\/p>\n

Yasir:<\/strong> Indeed, we\u2019ve been awfully careless towards archiving and have already paid a heavy price by losing considerable records of our film history. I hate saying this but unfortunately, we\u2019re still not taking steps in the right direction. Individuals do their bit but they can only do as much. The scope of work requires an institutional intervention, but there\u2019s barely anything worthwhile right now. What\u2019s worse, even the future of National Film Archive of India looks jeopardised at the moment. NFAI has been the sole custodian of invaluable material, especially film prints, and no one knows what will happen henceforth.<\/p>\n

Speaking of videos, imagine the riches that must be lying in the Doordarshan vaults. If those are digitised and made accessible online for a fee, I\u2019m sure many of us would happily pay. Same goes for old, unavailable books and magazines. I hope we see an initiative in this regard soon.<\/p>\n

Yeh Un Dino\u00f1 Ki Baat Hai: Urdu Memoirs of Cinema Legends<\/strong><\/em>
\nPublished by : Bloomsbury India
\nHardcover, 442 pages
\nAvailable on Amazon<\/a><\/p>\n

More must-reads from Silhouette<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u2018KL Saigal\u2019s Songs Started the Sugam Sangeet Revolution\u2019 \u2013 In Conversation with Author Pran Nevile<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Majrooh Sultanpuri: The Poet For All Reasons \u2014 \u2018I Would Rate It As My Best Work,\u2019 Says Manek Premchand<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u2018If Raj Uncle Liked a Song, He Would Give Baba a Gold Coin\u2019: Amla Shailendra Remembers Her Father \u2018Kaviraj\u2019 Shailendra<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u2018Aesthetic Potentials of Sound are Rarely Explored\u2019 \u2013 Budhaditya Chattopadhyay on the Use of Sound in Cinema<\/a><\/strong> <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Yeh Un Dino\u00f1 Ki Baat Hai: Urdu Memoirs of Cinema Legends<\/em>, selected and translated by Yasir Abbasi and published by Bloomsbury India, brings together an eclectic collection of memoirs written by renowned writers and cine artists and published in Urdu magazines of yore, many of which are now defunct. Silhouette Magazine<\/em> Consulting Editor Antara Nanda Mondal quizzed Yasir Abbasi about his interest in Urdu that eventually led him to take up the mammoth task of searching, collecting, archiving, collating and translating the nearly lost literature and life sketches of cine luminaries.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":6950,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2470,422],"tags":[1302,1304,1303,2406,2405,2404],"class_list":["post-6938","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-review","category-indian-film-personalities","tag-book-reviews-of-cinema-books","tag-books-on-films","tag-films-books","tag-urdu-magazines","tag-yasir-abbasi","tag-yeh-un-dinon-ki-baat-hai-urdu-memoirs-of-cinema-legends"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6938","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6938"}],"version-history":[{"count":13,"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6938\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6959,"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6938\/revisions\/6959"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/6950"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6938"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6938"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6938"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}