Chori Chori

Yesterday, I saw a recent youtube video of the famous filmy duo Salim-Jawed, and how many of their famous stories, snippets, dialogues, whole scenes, and  characterizations were not their brain children but very smart copies, marketed as ‘The original’. Of course I knew some of these for many years, some were a revelation. But those 2 writers are the proverbial ‘Holy Cows’ of Bollywood, so I never bothered to tell anyone, except Prajakta. I was sure to get a beating – verbal or even physical if I went on tomtoming this in front of friends obsessed with the duo. And this blog is not to list out the blatant copying done by them, someone else has already started doing it. 

It is said that sometimes a copy sells better than the original, or even a copy is better than the original. I agree with the first part but not much with the second. Original is original. However beautifully created, elaborately detailed, and smartly marketed, the copy cannot be better than the original. Examples in politics, cinema, music are abundantly spread across continents. 

And the originals? I have read many fascinating tales [sometimes in fiction- sometimes non-fiction] of brilliant copies of  Picassos, Monets, Turners turning out somewhere, selling for crores of rupees and creating havoc in the art market when the curtain rises. Just for info, Picasso, Monet and Turner, all are world famous painters, European offcourse ……But there,  among the rich and famous, displaying an original master in the drawing room is the ultimate hubris. 

Here, In Pune, we’re neither rich nor famous. And our knowledge of great painters starts with Ravi Varma, adding Husain and Gaitonde, and ends possibly with……… don’t scratch your head, I am as ignorant about paintings as about many other arts. But being ignorant doesn’t mean that I cannot spot beauty and consequently ugliness, good art and bad art. 

Next lines have to be in Marathi …..गाणे ऐकताना जेंव्हा रावसाहेबांना एखादी जागा खटकते, त्यांना नक्की काय चुकलंय ते कळत नाही पण काहीतरी गडबड आहे हे कळते. मग ते त्यांच्या तीनमजली आवाजात पुलंच्या कानात कुजबुजतात “गल्ली चुकलं का हे P. L.?” ….[Translation: during an Indian Classical Music concert, when Raosaheb hears some note, some alaaps which are not proper, he doesn’t understand what’s wrong, but knows that something is wrong. Then he in his towering voice whispers into P L Deshapande’s ear  “whether the singer has lost his way?” . 

So in art – music, poetry, acting, we can immediately spot a bad copy, sometimes a good copy too. In music it’s somewhat contentious, because following in the footsteps of masters is Indian Classical Music’s tradition. Music Directors like Hridaynath Mangeshkar openly tell or actually demonstrate, how they have used an earlier bandish to create  a new song. A well known case is ‘Vitari Prakhar Tejobal [वितरि प्रखर तेजोबल], a famous bandish adapted for गगन सदन तेजोमय [Gagan sadan Tejomay – a song from Smita Patil’s Umbaratha]. When you openly acknowledge the original contributions, it’s not stealing and we like that. 

Then there are videos on many other famous bollywood music directors, telling us the similarities in some western song published in 1960, with a song in a bollywood movie in 1965. So much stealing. So many castles tumble like ‘cardhouses’’ and then we start thinking, is there anything left sacred? 

Creating something, really creating something new, which was never done earlier, which brings out what you want to say, is like giving birth. There are a lots of pains before the ultimate joy. Stealing is easy – maybe it needs some intelligence to spot what to steal, but finally it’s stealing. 

in Ayn Rand’s ‘Fountainhead’, there is an incident, where a young  prodigy gets disheartened with life and goes on top of a hill to commit suicide. When he reaches the top of the hill,  to jump down, down in the valley, he sees a township built like a dream, as if stones, streams, trees, the slopes and rises of the valley all came together to complete what was missing – the houses, the roads and  the small little gardens. It’s beyond beautiful, almost like a law of nature. Almost as if, it was simultaneously, all natural and all a dream. He can’t trust his eyes. 

He sees a man sitting nearby on a rock, and asks him 

‘Is this real?’ 

The man says ‘Yes, it is, now.’ 

He asks ‘ Who made this?’

The man says ‘ I did.’

The young prodigy says ‘ Thank you.’ nothing more, and walks back to home, forgetting that he had decided to commit suicide. 

This is the power of creativity, power of the original. Think about all the originals. First of  their creations, then the creators themselves, The Leaders, The Artists, The Scientists, The Industrialists, The Brahma. I don’t need to supply names, you will have your own list. Copies may entertain us, but originals have the power to change us.

Do you agree?