Chandidas
Director: Debaki Bose; Cinematographer: Nitin Bose
Duration: 01:52:17; Aspect Ratio: 1.333:1; Hue: 59.975; Saturation: 0.015; Lightness: 0.216; Volume: 0.161; Cuts per Minute: 2.859; Words per Minute: 32.762
Censor Certificate
Censor Certificate;
Certificate no. 12618;
Released by New Theatres Ltd.;
Length of film: 11986 feet;
Date: 7th September 1932;
"Chandidas was considered to be the first Indian film to have used 'background score' (not simply music and songs) for narrative purposes as well as for the production of the melodramatic effect."
'Early Melodramatic Forms and the Subject of Bhakti: Gender, Sexuality and Modes of Subversion'; Mukherjee, Madhuja, 2011
Raga Jhinjhoti.
Sarod, tabla with a heavy bass sound, sitar, xylophone (native version of the same, maybe), violin, flute.
title
New Theatres
New Theatres Logo
The New Theatres
Presents
CHANDIDAS
Camera: NITIN BASU
Sound Recordist: MUKUL BASU
Laboratory Chief: SUBODH GANGULY
Music Director: RAICHAND BARAL
Arrangements: AMAR MALLICK
Direction_Dialogue: DEBOKI KUMAR BASU
Chandidas: Durgadas Bandyopadhyay
Sridam: Krishna Chandra Dey
Bijoynarayan: Amar Mallick
Acharya: Manoranjan Bhattacharya
Batuk Ghoshal: Dhirendra Bandyopadhyay
Chatterjee: Chaani Dutta
Rami: Uma Shashi
Kankan: Shushila
"...the first shot of the film is a lotus in full bloom. The camera then pans to show..."
Keertan.
Cello, violin, harmonium, Hawaiian guitar, khol and tabla for percussion in the interlude of the song; also Sarod, flute used with violin and cello.
"...Rami, busy washing a sari and singing a rather well known kirtan (Radha-Krishna love/devotional song) 'Alapo boyeshe piriti kori...' ('I have loved at a young age'). Shot mostly in midshots and mid-long shots, the takes are long, thereby allowing Rami (Uma Sashi) to complete a musical composition, after which we observe some closer shots. However, this structure is often reworked at the point when an emblematic close-shot of Chandidas (the male protagonist) listening to her, is inserted. Briefly, this sequence introduces the characters and the problem of the film. Moreover, at the very onset of classical narrative cinema, the film both introduces specific formal devices and apparently subverts norms regarding framing, inter-cutting and narration.
For example, as Rami sings she looks straight into the camera and performs the song. Such evocative direct address seems to be more than 'unsystematic deployment' of cinematic tools. Thus hereafter, her look is diverted to 'something' left of frame. Rami then shuts her eyes, sighs, smiles, and resumes her singing with greater enthusiasm. Later, at the point in which she is about to leave the frame that the (first) shot of Chandidas is included. Shot in mid-shot Chandidas is (also) looking left of frame, thereby complicating the relation between the two. Cut to a mid-shot of Rami who is looking at something off-frame and singing in a teasing manner. As well, she turns and swings her body in suggestive ways. After this, she moves towards the ghat and a long shot establishes her physical distance to Chandidas. Cut to closer shot of Rami, looking back at the audience to comment on the situation. Then, Rami returns to the earlier spot, continues washing teh sari and returns her look towards Chandidas. Cut to Chandidas looking away (in embarrassment), moreover, he only returns his gaze when Rami has her back towards him. This pattern of inter-cutting between Rami looking at Chandidas and looking back at teh audience, as well as Chandidas looking at Rami and looking away, continues until Rami takes up more provocative and typically seductive poses to tease the man. Rami continues to perform, sometimes by shutting her eyes, while Chandidas looks away. This moment is intercepted by Kankanmala's entry into the scene, which further complicates the modes of address. Moreover, eventually the reciprocated looking or the circuit of gaze between Chandidas and Rami never is totally complete, since they repeatedly look and then quickly look away.
More important, are the specific gestures of Rami's 'looking back' at the audience, which create fissures within the structure of gaze. Indeed, it also problematizes theoretical conjectures that posit gender and sex as (uncritical) performances. Clearly, Rami performs her 'self', however, it is within the frame of critical distancing. This is further complicated with another pan that reveals while Chandidas is looking at (and 'not-seeing') Rami, they are being watched by her friend (sakhi)/ sister-in-law; additionally, all of them are in actuality being monitored by the King/village-head and therefore by the audience. Indeed, one of the important aspects of 'Chandidas' is the pattern in which, the omniscient-omnipotent (maze of) gaze is interrogated by direct address and by the 'looking back' of Rami."
'Early Melodramatic Forms and the Subject of Bhakti: Gender, Sexuality and Modes of Subversion; Mukherjee, Madhuja, 2011
"The opening song by Rami, a well known Kirtan from Padavali was spoilt by due to improper recording.
Sometimes she was getting out of tune but she cleverly tried to make good the deficiency by display of expressions which was not out of harmony with the situation. She possesses a good voice and her dialogue reproduced clear and distinct on the screen, but so far as music is concerned we cannot expect her to give us high class entertainment since we all know she is an ordinary songstress and is devoid of high musical talent."
--"Music in Chandidas", S.D. Burman, Filmland, November 12, 1932
O Dear One, What else can I tell you?
I have loved at a tender age...
I have loved at a tender age...
You did not let me stay at home
My love will lead me to the sea to die
It will fulfill the desires of my heart
After death I will become the preserver of all
And you will be my Radha
I will love and then abandon you
Under the shade of the kadam tree
Like Krishna I will sing and play the flute
When you go to the river
Moved by the music of the flute
This lower-caste girl...
Moved by the music of the flute
This lower-caste girl...
Moved by the music of the flute
This lower-caste girl...
Chandidas say, then you will know,
So much pain there is in love
Falling in love at a tender
age got me out of home.
What happened sister?
What are you looking at?
What is the matter?
Cello for the comic effect
"The background-music used to synchronise the action of ‘Kankan’ while she was proceeding towards the ghat was cheap imitation of western tune which certainly we did not expect from a talented musician like Mr. R.C.Boral."
"Music in Chandidas", S.D. Burman, Filmland, November 12, 1932
Do you know you are a widow?
"She (Kankan) voices obvious social concerns...Rami's honest 'confessions' bereft of the controlling power of the social structures, reduce Kankan's retreat into a comic gesture and the 'standard' background music adds on to it. In effect...Rami problematizes the visual field (controlled by the look and the gaze) from a 'victim' position as she acknowledges that she is being watched and disapprovingly 'performs' for the gaze to disturb the power of the gaze."
'Early Melodramatic Forms and the Subject of Bhakti: Gender, Sexuality and Modes of Subversion; Mukherjee, Madhuja, 2011
I know
Around ten years ago,
the day I first realised I was a woman,
that day I also realised I was a widow.
Do you know you are beautiful and young?
What can I say.
I have seen while washing
clothes beside the pond,
even in the black, murky water,
the reflections of my beauty.
It floats and re-surfaces.
And what else? What
else did you say?
My foot! Rubbish! Nonsense! You...
Stop! Stop! Please...
Stop!
My friend! What did you say!
My youth?
Do I still possess my youth, friend?
I am really reassured,
Oh my dearest,
Violin and cello
I had thought
that my youth
Oh my dearest...
My eyes have been shrouded,
By the shadow of sorrow.
My youth has deserted me.
O my dearest...
O my dearest, Kankanbala...
O my dear friend, Kankanbalike...
Yes, it seems to be spilling over.
She is of too low a caste,
daughter of a washerman.
A wise man like you is
saying something like this?
Is it not there in the scriptures?
The washerwoman is no less
than any other woman.
Batuk, are you sure that
she will agree?
Sir, you have already seen
around 20-25 of them.
But, have you seen a single
instance when a woman was reluctant?
No, I have not. But it might
just happen.
Like, if someone proposes this
to your wife,
will you still say women are
never reluctant?
Ummm..what?
What are you saying, sir?
My wife?...You...?
Don't be afraid.
Batuk, don't you trust your wife?
Has anyone ever trusted
their own wife, sir?
Who is that fellow?
Chandi from the Brahmin locality,
works as a priest in your temple.
Hmmm, but why is he
fishing here?
Fish? Not fish, sir. Crabs.
Still, why even crabs?
Sir, because he intends to
catch something else.
And how did he get acquainted
with that woman?
Rami sweeps the courtyard
outside the temple.
And that fellow worships
inside the temple?...Yes
Inform the head-priest today, Batuk.
From tomorrow Rami the washerwoman
will not sweep the courtyard of the temple.
Tell him, it me, Bijoynarayan's order.
"Indeed, Rami's ways of looking (back), her bodily gestures, smirk and scathing words put all existing models under scrutiny. Her dialogues and her 'hostile' gestures question sexual politics and class-caste systems. She teases Chandidas, and says, "My Lord, did any fish take the bait?" Her look examines him as she glances up and down and tells him 'not to fish', because, 'he does not come to fish' anyway. Chandidas 'confesses' and confirms (through an outstanding 'cinematic' dialogue, as it were) (his love fore Rami)... Here, Rami is deeply conscious of her sexual aspirations and is also aware of the ruptures it produces within the social paradigm. The sensuality of this entire sequence and the feminine as the sexual agency become significant in the context. In fact, a series of notions regarding performing gender, the public and the private/personal as well as the 'ghar' and the 'bahir' are confronted in rather complex fashion in the film. Curiously, the 'ghat' functions as a value-loaded space, which attains import because of its connections with the Radha-Krishna myth. Ghat appears to be a culturally defined private (bathing) space especially for the women, and becomes the domain of the 'people and public' since certain socially repressed aspirations are allowed to be enunciated here. Furthermore, in the context of cinema, such undefined spaces would eventually become cinematically coded romantic spaces, where couples could play out romantic moments outside the controlling gaze of the patriarchal order. In brief the ghat clearly is (like) cinema itself, which produces a liminal space and allows the enunciation of prohibited desires."
'Early Melodramatic Forms and the Subject of Bhakti: Gender, Sexuality and Modes of Subversion; Mukherjee, Madhuja, 2011
proposal
O, Brahmin.
You could not catch
a single fish,
and you lost your hook, too?
No, I have not lost my hook.
Really?
That's good then.
But, don't come here to fish anymore.
Why?
Because, you don't come
here just to fish.
No.
O, so you know that too?
But, do you know why
you come here?
Yes, I know.
Why?
To look at you.
You see me everyday at the temple.
Those glimpses don't satisfy me.
My heart desires...to see
you all the time.
Why?
Because I love you.
Does love mean you
have to see me all the time?
You know the answer to that. Let
me just say, I want to see you.
Rami, I want to see you.
I want to bring all my senses
to my eyes and
forever become a sentinel on the gates
of the temple that is your serene beauty.
Without sleep, with ease,
without rest.
Chandi Thakur, you are a priest,
so you are reciting a poem.
But human life is not poetry, it
is made of flesh and blood.
And there is society and
its rules.
You are not a child.
Don't you understand that
you must not love me.
It is a sin for you to
say something like that.
And it's a greater sin
for me to hear it.
I have not said anything
about sin or virtue.
I have only said that
I love you.
Don't you understand that
even this love is a sin?
Love is a sin? Rami,
you are mad.
Only God knows if I am mad.
But, you go away.
Go home.
Don't ever come back here again.
If you come, I will
never come again.
Rami...
Listen.
If you ever say such
things to me again then
I will never go back
to the temple either.
Rami...
What?
Will you ever again
say such things to me?
No.
And will you ever again
come to this pond?
Who is it? What was that sound?
Who is there?
If the pitcher cracks then
you can be angry with it,
but my dear wife, why are
you not talking to me?
What has happened my dear?
Whom are you so angry with?
Who else?
That foolish girl...
And who has been so foolish
so early in the morning?
The one whom even
Death has forsaken.
Oh, but she is fortunate then.
But, who is she?
Do you not know?
The iron bangles, the
vermillion on her head,
and the husband, all that
she has devoured,
and now she wants to
feast on a Brahmin's boy.
She is a demoness, fallen,
a witch...
My dear, even then, she has
sought refuge with you,
so why do you abuse her so?
Why? Why shouldn't I
abuse her?
And why just abuse?
If I cannot rid her of
this foolish love by abusing
then...then I will plead before
the goddess,
to wish for her death.
I will die, I
will die my friend...
Raga Bhairav.
Pakhawaj and tabla with violin in the background as K.C. Dey sings. Rami sings a keertan in between. Use of khol, violin, flute and khanjini (karta)- the metallic clasping instrument.
I will die, I
will die my friend...
I will most certainly die.
How do I complete my duty to my God,
to whom do I give the responsibility?
O my dearest...
How do I complete my duty to my God,
to whom do I give the responsibility?
Who will perform instead of me,
in front of my lord Krishna?
To whom do I give this responsibility?
Do not burn Radha's body,
do not immerse her in the waters.
O my dearest, do not
burn Radha's body,
do not immerse her in the waters.
After death, put her up on
the branch of the dark tree.
Do not forget, my dearest...
After death, put me up on
the branch of the dark tree.
I love the dark tree,
My Krishna is dark too,
And the tree he loves is dark too,
So I love the dark tree.
I love the dark hue.
Since my childhood and always,
I love the dark hue.
There's no other colour that
can be of my Lord except this.
I can see, I can speak only
through black as you,
I love the dark hues.
I'm very much admirer of black.
Since my childhood and always,
I love the dark hue.
Since my childhood and forever,
I'm very much admirer of black.
My Krishna and his tree are both dark,
My Lord Krishna is black
hence I love black very much.
so I love the dark colour.
My Krishna and his tree are both dark,
so I love...
Violin and khol. Raga Misra Bilawal and a smattering of Raga Khambaj.
So, she did not agree
to anything?
No, Sir.
Long live the Master. We have come
a long way for you.
Bhoja...
Did you mention my name?
This is not Batuk Ghosal's
first assignment of this nature, Sir.
What did you tell her?
I said...ummm...
I told her, you will keep
her in such comfort that,
she will not have set foot
on the bare earth ever again.
You were wrong...
You can never win a woman
only by generosity,
they respond only to fear.
They respond only when they
realise how powerful the man is.
This time, go and tell her that
such a powerful man wants her,
under whose care, no one will
ever be able to say anything to her.
And if she does not agree, tell
her that her house will be burned.
Long live the King,
Long live the King...
A fortnight passes. On the eve
of the fool moon,
a special worship was
organised in the temple.
"In a later sequence, Rami and Chandidas's relationship is re-established within temple (and legitimate) premises. In this scene, Rami, who sweeps the temple grounds, wishes to offer her prayers to the 'Lord'. However, she is refused entry into the temple because of her caste and nevertheless, she demands a reason. She continues to argue and says that, "no one can give (or take away) one's right to worship or offer prayers in a temple..." She tells the King that he is "wrong." This enrages the King, who assaults her publicly and throws away her offerings. As the King/societal head holds her tightly, she ironically retorts, "leave me... my hand has been vilified (by your touch)." In effect, Rami also refuses to offer her prayers to the institutionalized God. Eventually, she cries before Chandidas, and tells him that he should throw the offerings into the river. Shot primarily through long-shots, Devaki Bose creates a montage of faces of the common people- of children, men, and women- who shed tears silently. The use of shehnai establishes and 'legitimizes' their 'illicit' relationship within this public domain. A transgressive relationship appears to be acceptable through meaningful uses of emergent devices."
'Early Melodramatic Forms and the Subject of Bhakti: Gender, Sexuality and Modes of Subversion; Mukherjee, Madhuja, 2011
temple
Raga Bhairav with shehnai and nakhada.
Chandidas...
Chandidas...
Chandidas...
Yes, Acharya...
Chandidas, do you know the
reason behind this special puja?
The landlord Bijoynarayan
has dreamt that,
the goddess is very angry with
sin and impurity in her temple.
She is also extremely
worried at this.
She wishes to abandon
the temple forever.
The landlord is the
patron of this temple,
so he has arranged for this puja
to appease the goddess.
I give you the responsibilty to
perform this puja well.
Listen once...
People of the impure castes are
crowding the temple today too.
Tell them they cannot
worship the goddess today.
They cannot enter the
temple premises today.
Raga Bhairavi. The ringing of the temple bells resonates occassionally.
Priest...
Please let me go
inside...
Rami...?
You? Here?
I have come to offer
my prayers.
I had sworn to
come today.
You had sworn to offer
prayers? For what Rami?
I am not supposed
to tell you why.
But, please move aside
a little bit.
Or else, these flowers
might fall at your feet
Rami...
What is it?
Rami...
Chandi Thakur...
Should I just stand here at
the gate and stare at you?
Will that take care of the worship?
Rami, you cannot enter
the temple today.
Why?
Today is a special puja
organised by the landlord.
He has forbidden...
What? Tell me.
He has forbidden all...
All lower castes are forbidden
from entering the temple today.
That is what you
are saying, right?
Chandidas...
I could never imagine the
extent of your delusion.
But, did you not even notice
that Zamindar Bijoynarayan,
has been waiting outside
the temple with his offerings.
Who is this woman?
My name is Rami. I am
the washerman's daughter.
Why has this untouchable
come here today?
I have come to offer
my prayers.
Be quiet! I did not
ask you the question.
That is true. But, still, you
wanted an answer from me.
How dare you! Why have
you come here?
I told you. I have
come to offer my prayers.
What prayers?
That information will
not help you in any way.
You will not be allowed to
offer your prayers.
Why?
You are an untouchable,
a lower-caste!
You have no right to offer
prayers inside the temple.
And by what right do
you declare that?
What! What right?
I am telling you,
you have no rights.
You are wrong.
No one can give someone the
right to worship God,
and neither can someone
take that right away.
But, woman, you
are forgetting,
those who have established
the idols in this temple,
those who protect the
interests of this temple,
they have complete rights
over this temple.
Acharya Thakur, even you
are forgetting,
they might have all rights
over the temple,
but they do not hold the
sole rights to worship.
Then who else possesses
that right?
That right rests with all
who worship.
Your?
Yes, mine. Not just me but
everyone else's too.
Everyone else's?
Everyone else's!
Let me go! Let me go!
Why did you touch the
flowers I brought for worship?
Oh! God!
Stand still!
Do you know, how
harshly I can punish you?
Let me go! Let me go!
I don't wish to...I don't
wish to worship in your temple.
Wait! All I wish to say is that...
...if you disobey the Zamindar, the
Brahmin or the head of the community,
the punishment is...
I know! I know!
I know everything!
The punishment for us for
disobeying people like you,
for that not even your own gods in
your own temples will ever forgive you.
Let me go! Let me go!
Oh God! Oh God!
The flowers for prayer have
been wasted today.
My hands have been
blemished today.
Chandi Thakur, if you can,
on my behalf, offer some
flowers
to the goddess.
But not in your temple,
instead, float the flowers
in the river.
Raagini Todi
Raga Puriya Dhaneswari from the parent Raga Purvi.
When you had played the flute
by the banks of the Jamuna,
the music had let loose a wave
of love that had set the world afloat.
Everything was overcome by
the rapturous music,
and even the wild birds
hummed the melody.
The whole world was set aglow,
washed by the essence of love.
Today, Krishna, you have
forgotten
this world you had
yourself created.
Now, envy, violence
and blood have
poisoned this world of ours.
Come, O Purger of Sorrows,
O Refuge for the Oppressed...
Come, O Purger of Sorrows,
O Refuge for the Oppressed,
Come again,
playing the flute like before,
Come back again.
Come back again.
Then, one morning...
Harmonium, violin and flute
Cello used as Rami sings in high pitch, along with violin and Hawaiian guitar
The dream I had
nourished in my heart,
has been ravaged by
this fire today,
I had walked into the ocean
to lave myself with the water,
instead I found myself,
immersed in waves of poison.
I built a city and
bridged the ocean,
in the hopes of
finding a precious gem,
but the ocean dried up
and hid the gem,
such are the vagaries
of my fate.
I worshipped the clouds
to quench my thirst,
instead the thunder
destroyed everything.
You must give an
answer, Rami.
I thought, I already
gave my answer.
Since the Master himself
is interested, then,
is it right for me to talk
to his servant, Ghoshal?
You are the Zamindar, the
head of the community,
you are a Brahmin,
and you have come here to the
pond to toy with a widow's honour?
You are a Brahmin,
if you so much as pass the
shadow of a lower-caste person,
you organise a trip to the
Ganga to purify yourself.
If a lower-caste person
enters your temple,
your prayers are
considered spoilt.
But does it not hurt your piety
to sleep with a washerwoman?
Does that not hurt society?
Does that not hurt religion?
Don't ruin yourself by
getting angry for no reason.
At this time of the day, even
the lower-caste people
of the village may
notice something.
That the head of
the community...
the Brahmin zamindar
of the village,
follows Rami the washerwoman
like a rabid jackal.
Listen, O beautiful Rami...
I have taken refuge at your
feet, such a peaceful place it is...
You are pure and divine,
My eyes seek none but you.
My time is spent in
thinking about you,
You are everything I
hold precious.
My love is pure as snow,
It is not tainted by lust.
Your beauty is pure and divine.
Violin and tabla
Days pass. Rami does not
go to the pond anymore.
There's a rumour that
Rami is ill.
That is what Chandidas
has also heard.
O Goddess Durga, you who
grant peace and well-being,
please cure my dear friend.
Her life is wracked with sorrow.
Mother, i beg of you,
please bless her.
Say 'Radha-Krishna',
my dear.
Do you hear me, I am
to the pond to bathe.
Please keep an eye over here, so
that cows and calves do not enter.
Keep an eye? I will.
Hey Krishna, ocean of pity,
Friend of the downtrodden...
O Lover of the Gopinis and Radha,
I pray to thee...
Forgive me madam...but I
had heard Rami was unwell, so...
Is she very unwell?
Please do not be shy around
me. I am like your son.
Please answer me, madam.
My dear friend is not at home.
Despite her illness, she
does not stay at home.
She wanders here and
there the whole day.
She no longer smiles
nor talks to me.
She just cries the whole day.
Please talk to her.
Me?
Don't cry madam, I will
talk to her. Don't cry.
-Where is she?
-She's in the temple.
In the temple? I will meet her
and talk to her. Don't cry.
-Son.
-What, Mother?
-Can I touch your feet?
-Yes, Mother.
Use of violin
Mother...I cannot bear
any longer.
Tell me Mother, is
this a lie?
That I love him,
is that a lie?
Is it a sin?
Mother...this is not a sin!
This is not a lie!
Mother...then make
everything else in my life false.
Just acknowledge the one
truth, that I love him.
No, no...No...I don't want him.
Neither do I want his love.
Give me this blessing...that
till the day I die,
he should not come before me.
That he should forget me.
Then, on a dark night,
amidst a gathering storm....
"Rami's (Uma Sashi's) delicate acting, bodily movements, mournful singing, and her eventual 'avisaar' (journey) in her (blue?) finery, juxtaposed with Chandidas' realization that 'mankind is above all' produce a poignant moment in the film. Furthermore, the thoughtful application of music and songs connect contrasting spaces."
'Early Melodramatic Forms and the Subject of Bhakti: Gender, Sexuality and Modes of Subversion; Mukherjee, Madhuja, 2011
"Especially at the point where Rami suffers through the night, the storm signifies her feelings just as the source light illuminates her beautiful face."
'Early Melodramatic Forms and the Subject of Bhakti: Gender, Sexuality and Modes of Subversion; Mukherjee, Madhuja, 2011
"In the ‘storm scene’ the musical accompaniment and the song sung by Rami wonderfully suited the atmosphere. It was highly artistic of Mr. R.C.Boral to put right music at the right place and I congratulate him for conducting the scene."
--Music of Chandidas, S.D. Burman, Filmland, November 12, 1932
Rami's song accompanied by sound of thunder
The sky is overcast, and
thunder tears through the sky,
The noise is deafening,
and a fierce wind blows.
Friend, it is indeed a bad day,
My heart wracked with
signs of unknown danger.
It rains relentlessly,
as the clouds growl in rage
My lover, alone, is waiting
somewhere for me.
Use of violin and pakhawaj
Goddess, I do not know
dharma, adharma, sin, virtue...
Tell me what is the truth
and what is not.
Truth is my dharma,
Truth is my virtue.
Mother, tell me what
is the truth.
The human is above all else,
Nothing is greater than that.
The human is above all else,
Nothing is greater than that.
I have found it, Mother,
I have found it!
The human is above all else,
Nothing is greater that that.
The human is above all else,
Nothing is greater that that.
The human is above all else,
Nothing is greater that that.
Please come quickly, she is
behaving so oddly.
Kankan, sit here.
-But, she will die.
-No, she won't. You sit.
The human is above all else,
Nothing is greater that that.
Keertan sung by K.C.Dey with changes in beats (Lai)
O Dearest...
After an eternity,
the lover has come back.
Radha's heart bursts with joy.
She clutches her lost
gem to her heart,
she does not wish to
be separated from it.
As the two met, it was
such a beautiful sight.
Just as the curlew finds the
moon, by weaving a web of love.
Or the bee chances upon nectar.
The two lovers embrace, trembling
with the force of their desires.
The two are lost
in each other.
Their union today douses
the fiery pain of separation.
Raga Ashapuri as Chandidas comes out of his house and walks in a garden.
K.C.Dey starts with another Keertan, doubling the rhythm the “lai”.
Do not touch my love,
but stand apart and
gaze into the mirror
and the ethereal face in it.
Do not touch my love,
but stand apart...
Your kohl has smudged
and marked your face,
making the already dark
complexion, darker.
I have seen that face
early in the morning,
and it shall bring good
luck for me the whole day.
The red betel juice has
marked that face,
and the eyes are
heavy with sleep.
Look towards me, and
turn around...
...let me look my fill.
Why have you twisted
your beautiful hair around?
Vermillion marks
your whole body,
we would have surely
died of embarrassment.
Your beautiful face and your
body have turned a shade pale,
Who has loved you
to such exhaustion?
Violin, double bass used.
Who has paved my path
with such thorns?
Dearest, if only you
would call out to me once,
these thorns would
instantly disappear.
You are so unfeeling.
I am calling you earnestly
yet you do not answer.
Chandidas...
Chandi Thakur...
Rami...
There you are. So
you have finally come.
You have heard me at last.
Rami, where are you?
I am...no...no...no...
Please don't come here.
There are thorns all
around. They will hurt you.
Please do not come here.
Stay where you are.
I will try and come to you.
Rami...
Where are you? Rami...
Chandi Thakur...
Rami...
Chandi Thakur...
Rami, where are you?
Chandi Thakur...
Rami...
Hawaiian guitar used as Rami lies at the feet of Chandidas.
Rami...
Don't be like that.
Please sit up.
Leave my feet.
Rami, I cannot tolerate
your pain any longer.
Please sit up.
Talk to me.
Tell me what you
wish to.
My lord, what more...
what more can I say?
In death, in life,
or in pain,
I wish you would be
the keeper of my soul.
I have tied my life
To your feet,
with a thread of love.
I will weather come what
may, always devoted to you.
I am a servant at your feet.
(Sanskrit Chants)
That Evening...
Oh Lord! Who did this?
Our home...
Kakan, do not be upset.
By now you have realised
that touching a young woman
ensures that a monk like you
will fall from grace.
You, a priest of the Mother
Goddess of this temple,
to you all women of the
world ought to be mothers.
Chandidas, if you still have
not understood that, then
take that stone idol of the
Mother Goddess and
immerse it in the water.
Then in this temple, you can
establish an idol of that
prostitute you are so fond of.
They were such nice people.
So sad. And blind too.
Only the Goddess knows what
sin burned his house to ashes.
The Goddess knows, which is why
she could not stand so much sin.
Yes, Sri Dam was blind. But
could he not hear either,
about that Rami who...
who caused Chandidas'
fall from grace.
It does not matter if
your are blind or mute,
if allow a fallen woman in
your house this will happen.
My dear...
Still, Chatterjee, I
have to say,
no one has actually
witnessed their liaison.
Brother, affairs are not
carried out publicly,
that people will be
able to see them.
You are reasoning
like the judge.
But, the accused has
confessed to his guilt.
Rami has caused him
to lose his religion.
Brahmin...your words
are lies.
Chandi Takur will never
say that
he has lost his religion
because of Rami.
Really? Your Chandi Thakur
has not only said this,
he has done the formal
penance for his sins
and is now praying to
the Goddess in the temple.
Say something, Gobardhan.
Really?
Really? That is true?
I just saw him
in the temple.
Really?
Really?
No...no...no...
This cannot be true.
You do not have to rely
on our words, Rami.
Go to the temple and see
for yourself if it is true or not.
You are right. I will
go to the temple.
I don't trust your words.
I know, this is
not true.
And if this is true?
If this is true...
If this is true, Chatterjee,
then, what all of you
have always wanted,
I will become that.
You dirty clothes and
your dirty souls,
I will carry both
burdens with me,
and end my life.
Dearest...
Let me go, dearest.
If you don't let me
go, if Chandi Thakur
performs the penance,
then...then...
the God who played the
flute of love in Brindavan,
his music will never
be heard again.
Let me go, dearest.
I don't have much time...
I beg of you, dearest,
let me go.
Why are you all still
here? Get out of my house.
We are leaving, Sri Dam's
wife, but,
why are you still talking
about your house?
Your house has
burned down.
Let it burn, fly or sink.
What is it to you?
You cannot abuse my
friend in my in-law's house.
Kakan...
What is it?...
Kakan...
What is it?...
Come inside.
What?...
Sit.
No.
(Sanskrit Chants)
Chandidas...
Before you finish atoning
for your sins,
let me remind you,
if you have any doubts
or hesitations
then this will all
be in vain and
the ritual will
be polluted.
Son, I am your teacher.
I have been a
monk my whole life.
In the name of this
great Goddess,
I am telling you again,
that in a man's path of religion,
there is no greater impediment
than thoughts about women.
Chandidas, you are a
priest of the Goddess.
You are a monk of
this temple.
Your duty is not
an easy one.
Chandi Thakur, is
this true or is it a lie?
Chandi Thakur...
truth or lies?
Rami!
Bhaja!!
Bhaja!! Bhaja!!
Bhaja!!
Yes, Master.
Gopal! Hari! Bhaja!
Yes Master!!...
You there! Listen...
Rami is going to the temple
to spoil Chandidas' penance.
If she enters the temple alive,
all of you will have to die instead.
Go!
Move aside from my way.
By what right, Ghosal, do
you obstruct my way?
This is not the
gate of your temple.
Is it only the temple gate
where one can stop you Rami?
One has to catch you on
the road, in darkness, at night.
Ghosal, I beg of you,
let me go.
I am in a hurry.
Are you going for
a liaison, Rami?
But your lover has
changed his spots.
No, Ghosal, no...my
lover will never do that.
Leave me, let
me go...leave me.
Don't leave her, Batuk.
She is going to the temple
to disrupt Chandidas' penance.
Bhaja!
Idiot!
Chandi Thakur...
is it true?
Chandi Thakur...
Chandi Thakur...
is it true?
Chandi Thakur...
is it true?
There...come...come...
Chandi Thakur...it seems
I won't be able to reach you.
Guard, has God given
this stick to you...
... to kill women like this?
How dare you? You...
(Sanskrit Chants...)
Oh Mother...
Stop her! Stop her!
(Sanskrit Chants...)
Chandi Thakur...
(Sanskrit Chants...)
Chandi Thakur...
Chandi Thakur...
is it true?
That you are atoning
for your sins?
That you have fallen from
grace because of me?
Chandidas...
Chandidas...
I can stand this
no longer...!
Tell me once yourself.
Only once...
Only once...
Say it once, Thakur...
...is it true?
Or is it a lie?
Rami...Rami...
this is not true.
This is a lie,
completely a lie.
I have not fallen from
grace because of you.
I have risen to grace
because of you.
Chandidas, you have polluted
the sacred chant of the Goddess.
I will curse you.
I will not stop you.
You can curse me.
You are not ready to
atone for your sins?
I have accepted falsehood
as truth. That is a grave sin.
I will atone for that.
Chandidas...Chandidas...
...so you choose the
charms of a fallen woman?
Master, that fallen woman
is my teacher.
I have learnt about
divine love from her.
Then, take your teacher
of divine love,
that fallen woman Rami,
and leave the village right now.
Chandidas, in the village
where the Goddess resides,
there, a lecherous man
like you and
a fallen whore like Rami,
can no longer live.
Leave this village
immediately. Go!
Go away!
No...no...Acharya...No!
Mother!...
Raga Bagesri. Use of violin.
Let us go dear. There is
no point being here anymore.
-Where should we go?
-Why, to our home.
-But our house has burned down.
-No. It has not.
We have another house.
That house doesn't burn.
Dear, hand this destructive
God over to me.
-Here.
-Yes.
And, take whatever you
wish to with you.
Have you taken?
Now, let us go then.
Not that way. Not
inside the village.
Outside the village.
Outside the village?
Where will we go then?
Let us go back...
Let us go back...
K.C.Dey sings “Phire chalo..” based on Raga Malkaus. Flute, violin and pakhawaj.
"Particularly in the last song ("Let us go back to our own place") the full beauty of the pathos was made home to the audience through the proper manipulation of the tune..."
-- 'Music in Chandidas' by Sachin Dev Burman, Filmland, November 12, 1932
Let us go back to our
own house, let us go back.
Let us go back to our
own house...
All accounts of desire
and need are false,
There is only joy today.
Let us go back to our
own house, let us go back.
The sky is bathed in
waves of moonlight,
And the wind blows
without any restraint.
The sky is bathed in
waves of moonlight,
And the wind blows
without any restraint.
The world is full
of the music of love,
All pain and hurt
is gone.
The world is full
of the music of love,
All pain and hurt
is gone.
Let us go back to our
own house, let us go back.
Let us go back to our
own house, let us go back.
From the deathly-blue Ocean,
Life flows in streams
of ambrosia.
Life in death and death
in life,
There is no cause for
fear or sorrow.
From the deathly-blue Ocean,
life flows in streams
of ambrosia.
Life in death and death
in life,
There is no cause for
fear or sorrow.
The bird in the sky
sings and says,
There is no death,
there is no death.
The bird in the sky
sings and says,
There is no death,
there is no death.
Day and night, life
flows relentlessly.
"But it pained me when I heard a cheap concert followed Mr. K.C.Dey’s last song (Let us go back’ etc) sung beautifully in Malkos tune. The fine sentiment created by this song was entirely spoilt due to the poor choice of a third class concert."
-- 'Music in Chandidas' by Sachin Dev Burman, Filmland, November 12, 1932
Orchestrated music for the final Keertan as the film ends, with use of violin and khol.
Music annotation by sarodist Anindya Bandopadhyay, recorded at JU Media Lab
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