India through epitaphs
Collecting newspaper columns into a book is a favourite pastime of seasoned journalists but the effects of this exercise are mixed. Unless there is a thematic consistency to the work, which can hardly be the case for a weekly/fortnightly column, it makes little sense to put disparate pieces of journalism next to one another.
Rahul Bedi has nevertheless published a selection of the obituaries he wrote for Britain’s Independentnewspaper over two decades beginning in the late 1980s. The book is marketed as the stories of 100 Indians “who led unusual lives”, which gives one the impression that the list would include offbeat personalities.
That, however, is not the case. The men and women he chronicles here are Indian legends from politics, sports, military, entertainment, and so on. Mr Bedi writes in the preface that of the lives profiled in this collection, “some of the subjects I knew well, others superficially, a handful by association, and the remainder, not at all”. This division in familiarity affects the writing too, with some profiles markedly more interesting than others, and a keen ideological bent evident in the obits of politicians.
Mr Bedi writes with flair on film stars and personalities. Two of the best profiles in the collection are of Mehmood and Johnny Walker, iconic comics who died within a year of one another in 2003-04. He meticulously chronicles their humble beginnings and work in what was then Bombay before gaining success in film and finally retiring to quiet lives away from the limelight.
Mr Bedi’s ability for the apt turn of phrase is also evident in the obits of Lalita Pawar (who “played the squint-eyed, scheming and vitriolic mother-in-law to perfection in scores of Indian films”) and Ajit (whose penchant for delivering “outrageously evil, double-entendre one-liners with a deadpan face … inspired a genre of outlandish jokes and eventually made him into a national folk hero”).
Less impressive are his obits of Sunil Dutt and Parveen Babi, offering little that is not known about the actors. An obit must not merely inform but also engage; it must shed light on an unknown facet or an eccentricity that could not be spoken of when the subject was alive. Mr Bedi was writing for a British audience who may have needed to be informed about Dutt’s serial tragedies or Babi’s illness, but to an Indian audience weaned on stories of Bollywood superstars, these obits are lacklustre.
A large number of the obits are of military, intelligence and diplomatic men who rose to prominence in the fraught external environment that prevailed after Independence. I had trouble recalling some of these names (Air Marshal Aspy Engineer and Lt Gen Shankarrao Thorat, for instance) but that’s a statement on my ignorance and the generally poor climate of popular military scholarship in this country.
The obits are of unequal length but the longer ones showcase real research carried out at a time when such information could not be gleaned at the click of a mouse. Writing about nuclear scientist Raja Ramanna, Mr Bedi recounts the offer Saddam Hussein made him during a visit the scientist made to Iraq in 1978. The Iraqi leader asked him to stay back in the country and develop its nuclear programme for a handsome salary. “I expect you to honour this offer,” Hussein added ominously. Ramanna could not sleep that night in his Baghdad hotel room but was mercifully allowed to return home. He never visited Iraq again.
Similarly captivating is the obit of P V Narasimha Rao. Mr Bedi brings out the duality of a politician who was often mocked for making “political inaction an art form” (in, say, the Babri Masjid demolition case), yet who not only launched India’s economic reforms but also crushed insurgency in Punjab and instituted diplomatic changes such as the since-expanded “Look East” policy. He was also, Mr Bedi informs us, an ardent fan of Greta Garbo.
That exception apart, Mr Bedi’s book is at its weakest in profiling politicians. He writes encomiums to Communist stalwarts like Harkishan Singh Surjeet and E M S Namboodiripad, failing to mention the tragic — and violent — consequences of these leaders’ ideology. His assertion that the CPM “has become such a domineering political force, playing a vital role in India’s new era of coalition politics” has not aged well.
Because of the book’s timeline and theme, it naturally represents a time in India’s history dominated by the Congress party. Indira Gandhi’s influence hangs over many obits such as those of J N Dixit and Zail Singh. In this respect, the book becomes an unlikely compendium of her paradoxical mix of strength and chicanery, a leader who both cultivated talent and expected undying submission.
It is for this reason that in the final analysis, The Last Word overcomes its shortcomings and hews to a narrative that is greater than the sum of its parts. Millennials in particular could learn much from this collection of the lives and passing of some of India’s — if not unusual — most interesting figures from a time that is rapidly fading from memory.
THE LAST WORD
Obituaries of 100 Indians Who Led Unusual Lives
Rahul Bedi
Roli Books
303 pages; ~395