I first met Kalpana Lajmi in 1981, during the screening of Along the River Brahmaputra , a documentary for Assam Tourism in which she had assisted the legendary Bhupen Hazarika for the first time. After that, I met her numerous times, even travelled occasionally with her and Hazarika. But the best part of my interaction was when I worked closely with them between 2005 and 2007, when Doordarshan assigned Hazarika to make a 26-episode mega-serial about the Northeast, for which I was doing the research and script.
Lajmi made only six feature films, but she left behind indelible footprints, especially with Rudaali (1993), a film based on a Mahasweta Devi short story. Rudaali also had ‘Dil hoom hoom kare,’ one of Hazarika’s most touching Hindi songs, the original Assamese of which was written in the backdrop of the Chinese aggression of 1962.
Having stepped into filmmaking as an assistant to her cousin Shyam Benegal (Guru Dutt and Atma Ram were her two great-uncles), Lajmi made her directorial debut in 1978 with a documentary on Dhiren Ganguly, the eminent filmmaker of Bengal. It was in 1986 that she made her first feature film Ek Pal , shot in Assam and dealing with female desire and an extra-marital affair, which probably for the first time in Indian cinema told such a story from the woman’s point of view.
But what always amazed me most about Lajmi was the way she dedicated her life to the legendary Bhupen Hazarika, who was in his late 40s when the 17-year-old fell in love with him. She spent her entire life with him amid controversies, looking after him with deep loyalty and care until he passed away on November 5, 2011.
There is no denying that Lajmi brought some order to Hazarika’s life after he had spent several years like a jajabor (nomad). She managed his production house and musical shows, and, as she always claimed, introduced him to all of India through Hindi cinema and music. She says in her recently-published book, Bhupen Hazarika, As I Knew Him, that she started living with the legend much against the wishes of her mother Lalita Lajmi, a well-known painter, and stood by him through thick and thin despite facing much criticism, especially in Assam.
Strict taskmaster
There are numerous stories of how Lajmi would throw out people for trying to smuggle in a bottle of whisky for Hazarika. She rationed his drinking, restricting it to two pegs a day. “Had I not been around, Bhupen would not have lived a disciplined life in the crucial three decades during which he won most of his big awards including the Phalke and Padma Bhushan,” she told me often, usually when she was opening the box of pills and handing them over one by one to the maestro who would abide like an obedient child. At work too, she was a strict taskmaster, forcing everyone to maintain schedules, and often losing her cool if she found a member of the unit missing a deadline or spending work hours chatting or idling.
In 2005, when Bhupen Hazarika called me to work with him on ‘Brahmaputra: An Endless Journey,’ I found Lajmi listening attentively to every line of the several drafts of the story, including every description and voice-over. She would often suggest the songs by Hazarika that could fit into the scenes as the show took viewers to nooks and corners of the Northeast along the tributaries of the Brahmaputra.
Many friends who had heard stories about the controversies and the bad behaviour she allegedly meted out often asked me how I coped up with her. My reply was standard: she was a wonderful human being who was always irritated by people who broke the rules or disturbed Hazarika during his work hours or rest time.
But yes, she broke the rules too, especially in her personal life. After all, it was Hazarika, her lifelong companion, who sung the line in that famous song ‘Ekhoni Neela Chadar’ in Assamese: niyom bhongar niyom ee-je meaning ‘the rule is to break the rule’.
The Guwahati-based journalist, traveller and satirist is working on projects on the life and works of Bhupen Hazarika.
