Satyajit Ray, director, script writer, documentary film-maker, author, illustrator and composer, to name a few, had a flair for sketching from his childhood. His drawing teacher in school used to say that he was Satyajit not merely by name but in his deeds as well (translation mine). Praising his integrity, a British manager in the advertising firm where Ray worked, made the comment that there was no chalaki (craftiness) in him.
Decades later, in an interview with the film critic, Iqbal Masud, on Shatranj Ke Khilari, Ray said, “One can well imagine a treatment of annexation with Wazid painted whiter and General Outram blacker, which would automatically enhance its popular appeal. My treatment avoids this falsification.” (August 1978). Do all these fall in place? Does not Ray’s oeuvre reflect ‘art wedded to truth’ that he valued so much?
The world of Ray
