A Page from My Diary : Reflections on Mrinal Sen -(Dr. Moon Mandal)
In the quiet solitude of my thoughts, I often find myself contemplating the idea of compiling a list of my favourite filmmakers. The notion is a daunting one, for such favourites are as diverse as they are numerous, and rarely can they be encapsulated by a single name. Yet, there exists within my heart a unique and profound affection for Mrinal Sen, one that transcends the realm of his cinema and embraces the essence of his being. This love I harbour for him finds its roots not solely in his artistic contributions, but rather in the harmonious amalgamation of everything he represented and everything he was to the world.
Mrinal Sen, undeniably one of India’s most brilliant and prolific filmmakers in the postwar era, was born in Faridpur, a city that, at the time of his birth in 1923, was a part of the British-ruled Bengal Presidency, a significant subdivision of the British Empire in India. Sen’s trajectory into the world of cinema was unconventional. He embarked upon his journey not as a nascent filmmaker but rather evolved through several distinct roles, commencing with activism, intellectual pursuits, a brief stint as a film critic, culminating in his eventual emergence as a director.
Sen’s lineage connects him to a family entrenched in the pursuit of justice and freedom, with his father, Dineshchandra, maintaining close associations with Indian freedom fighters. Mrinal Sen, however, forged his own path through the thriving metropolis of Calcutta, known today as Kolkata, where he bore witness to the harrowing Bengal famine. These were times of tumultuous riots and the ravages of World War II. Sen, deeply immersed in the cultural wing of the Communist Party, sought refuge in the solace of the library. During these years of upheaval, Sen chanced upon Rudolf Arnheim’s influential work, “Film as Art,” a pivotal moment that redirected his attention towards the realm of aesthetics and film theory.
In 1945, Sen penned a seminal article, “The Cinema and the People,” which found its place in a publication by the Indo-Soviet Friendship Society. Subsequently, in the early 1950s, he authored his first book on cinema, a literary work centered on, Charlie Chaplin. However, it took nearly a decade and a half for Mrinal Sen to truly find his footing as a director. His unwavering adherence to leftist ideologies and his profound concern for the plight of the oppressed masses complicated his journey, as he grappled with the challenge of translating his cinematic vision into a form palatable to the predominantly middle-class, theatergoing Bengali audience.
It was only with the onset of the political maelstrom in India during the 1970s, characterized by widespread disillusionment with the state, rampant corruption, and the ascent of militant communism, that Mrinal Sen’s cinematic career soared to remarkable heights. During his early career, Sen’s most notable cinematic endeavors included “Baishey Shravana” (1960), “Akash Kusum” (1965), and “Bhuvan Shome” (1969). For nearly a decade, Sen retreated from the world of cinema, reemerging in 2002 to produce his final film, “Aamar Bhuvan.” Notably, this film exhibited a mood that was distinctly gentle and optimistic, deviating from the prevailing tone of many of his earlier works..
I am but one among the countless members of his audience, and it is important to acknowledge that I never had the privilege of knowing him in person or having a face-to-face encounter with the man. However, in the most inexplicable manner, I feel a deep and intensely personal connection with him. In moments of confusion, self-doubt, and when the weight of life’s questions and conflicts bears down upon me, I invariably turn to his interviews, his writings, and, of course, his cinematic masterpieces. It is in these moments that Mrinal Sen’s wisdom and insight serve as my guiding light.
It is remarkable that I share little in common with this cinematic luminary – not in profession, not even in the generation to which I belong. Yet, his thoughts, his way of life, and the profound depth of his essence continue to be my silent teachers in ways that are uniquely their own. I have penned down these thoughts and sentiments on multiple occasions, for they are a testimony to the enduring impact that Mrinal Sen has had on my life.
Recently, a book authored by Kunal Sen, his son, has made its way into the world. This literary work is a cherished gift, and I extend my heartfelt gratitude to Kunal for its creation. He called his father “bondhu”- friend – an unlikely way to address one’s father, but it easily makes sense when it is someone like Mrinal Sen. Within the pages of this book, Kunal shares stories and anecdotes that may be familiar to many, yet they are presented through the lens of a son who observed his father’s journey up close, almost every step of the way.
These written words form a poignant collection of reminiscences – a son writing about his father, a thinker reflecting on another thinker, a man coming of age while witnessing the graceful aging of another. Mrinal Sen’s triumphs and failures, the essence of his cinematic creations, the facets of his perfections and imperfections, his process of learning and unlearning, and the lives of the people who orbited his world become intricately woven into the author’s personal memories.
A certain sense of an ‘intellectual loneliness’ becomes a recurring theme, along with the inescapable journey of growing old. It is a poignant documentation, not just of an artist’s life and times, but also a profoundly personal memoir. The coexistence of these dual narratives is what lends an exquisite beauty to this literary creation. Many of us have made Mrinal Sen a “bondhu” in our own ways, and this connection only continues to grow stronger as the years pass.
