Synopsis
A freedom fighter lodged in the Nasik Central
Jail in 1927, recounts to his inmates memories
of his childhood and how his mother brought
him up with all the right values during
troubled times. The account traces the travails
of a rural Marathi family headed by a midlevel
landlord and his joint family. A reversal
of fortune brought about by ever incurring
debts necessitates that the family move
out to lesser living conditions but it is
the mother (Vanamala) who keeps up the spirit
and imbues little Shyam (Madhav Vaze) with
all the true morals that stand him in good
stead in the years to come.
The film
Shyamchi Aai is a fictionalized
account of the childhood years of Sane Guruji
(1899 – 1950) narrated in a long flashback.
A nationalist, influenced by Vinoba Bhave
and especially Gandhiji, he was imprisoned
repeatedly for his work among the peasantry
and participation in the Quit India agitations.
His book Shyamchi Aai, written
in jail, has 45 episodes in which Shyam,
a youth living in poverty in Konkan, recalls
the teachings of his mother, a devoutly
religious person with an earthy and practical
philosophy.
 The
film is set in an age where robbers waylaid
weary travelers and the division of a house
amongst brothers was an act of sacrilege
frowned upon by society. It relies heavily
on what are consequently stereotypes today:
the ever sacrificing mother who dotes on
her children and wait on her husband; the
hardworking father who strives to make ends
meet; the ungrateful brothers and their
evil wives; the evil money lender who does
not hesitate to propose to his debtor, the
father of the kid in this case, to sell
off his wife to settle his dues; the strict
school master who is made a fool of by his
students. Overriding all these is the mother-son
track that the film deals with and derives
its name from – Shyamchi Aai
(meaning Shyam’s Mother). Through
anecdotes, persuasion, religious songs,
examples from mythologies and sometimes
outright force, the mother instills in her
son the values necessary for a clean soul
and upright rearing. In one scene where
she bathes her young son, she tells him
that it is more important to clean the dirt
in one’s mind than the dirt in the
feet. The film is replete with such earthly
words of wisdom that matures the child over
the length of the film till he attains the
gall to tell few of his rich friends that
he may be poor, but rich in mind!
The film has a simplicity that is obviously
naïve by today’s standards. But
it is this very simplicity that reaches
out to the viewers because of its honesty
and straightforwardness. Since it draws
largely from true-life incidents, the structure
of the film is episodic. As soon as it switches
to flashback from the establishing jail
segment, the whole family is introduced
in a well thought out sequence and the basic
relationships established. Little Shyam
is introduced stealing apricots from the
kitchen and immediately endears himself
to the viewers. The father is established
as a landlord with ‘special revenue
rights’ who sets out to embark on
a journey to collect dues from his tenants.
The family is worried about his impending
voyage but he promises to return before
the dusk. On his way back the music assumes
a grave tone, anticipating danger. The director
cuts to parallel action of the anxious family
waiting for his arrival. The beautiful mother
decked in jewelry has just returned from
the temple but her right eyelid flutters,
which is a bad sign. The film cuts back
to the father’s journey; robbers accost
him and are about to kill him when the god-fearing
mother has a premonition; she duly sits
in front of a congress of gods and begins
to pray fervently for her husband’s
safe arrival; and lo and behold, the robbers
suddenly take pity on him as he implores
that he has children back home, the robbers
realize that they also rob to feed their
kids and so they spare him; and the mother’s
prayers are answered… And her husband
returns safely with a negligible head injury.
Clichéd as it looks now, the segment
still has an appeal that manages to keep
the viewers on tenterhooks. And therein
lies its seduction: It is predictable but
we are hooked nevertheless, because a seduction
is always alluring and gains its charm through
its repetitious value.
The freedom movement forms the backbone
of the film and also its subtext. The father
(an over the top Damuanna Joshi) is a follower
of Lokmanya Tilak who goes to jail for a
period of 4 months. Shyam is proud of his
father and invokes Tilak at necessary junctures
of the film. It forecasts his political
aspirations and readies him for the necessary
sacrifices. In one melodramatic scene from
the film, he allows himself to be caned
on his palm 12 times by his teacher as opposed
to Tilak’s 6 years in jail without
batting an eyelid. The scene foreshadows
Manoj Kumar’s burning of his palm
on a lighted piece of candle as he sings
a patriotic song in the film Shaheed
(1965).
Shyamchi Aai is a well wrought
out melodrama with its quota of exaggerations
and myths. Little Shyam crosses a turbulent
river during a thunderstorm despite the
warnings of his friends because his love
for his mother is deeper than the river!
This recalls a similar myth where Vidyasagar
crossed the turbulent Damodar river to reach
out to his mother at least half a century
ago in Bengal. One does not fail to draw
the parallel and comes to the conclusion
about the average Indian male’s mother-fixation
that sometimes borders on the erotic / sexual.
In the last segment little Shyam has a
dream that his mother is ill and calling
out to him. He immediately sets out and
traverses the sea and earth to reach his
mother. His journey is intercut with the
sufferings of his mother who is on her deathbed,
surrounded by her family members. She enquires
about Shyam; will he be able to reach in
time, we wonder. The tension builds up as
little Shyam walks through hail and storm,
travels on locomotive and ship, undaunted.
The viewers root for the young Shyam so
that he can meet his mother before she breathes
her last and the two could exchange the
obligatory last dialogues. But he learns
of his mother’s death when he stumbles
onto his aunt at a harbour. He is aggrieved
to hear the news but continues with his
journey and breaks out into a song of motherly
love, which is highlighted by shots of various
young animals suckling their mothers. We
are taken in by the pathos of the segment
despite its melodramatic treatment because
by this time we have become used to the
design and don’t mind.
It is easy to see why this sentimental
tale of motherly love and sacrifice appealed
to the audience when it was first released
more than 50 years ago. It has a taut narrative,
sprinkling of patriotism, immensely hummable
songs (music by Vasant Desai) and identifiable
characters and plays heavily on stereotypes
and melodrama, which is always a safe proposition,
commercially speaking. The audience feels
comfortable in this old-fashioned self-ensconced
world of family values where the status
quo is ultimately and rigidly maintained
against heavy odds. An entire generation
of Marathi audience has been brought up
on this film that gains its edge also from
the solid performance of the lead actress,
Vanamala.
It is said that even if she acted in this
one film only, she would still be remembered
fondly by viewers. Special mention must
be made of Madhav Vaze, playing young Shyam.
He delivers a commendable performance endearing
himself to the viewers.
Shyamchi Aai remains a cult film
in the history of Marathi cinema and is
still fondly remembered and evoked by film
scholars and students. The film won the
First ever National Award for the Best Film
in 1954 (for films made in 1953), exactly
50 years before another Marathi film finally
did it again, Shwaas in 2004.
Contributed by Ranjan Das, an alumnus
of the Film and Television Institute of
India (FTII), Pune with specialization in
Film Editing 1992. Having edited various
documentaries and directed different programmes
for Bengali Television, he has also written
for the popular TV serials Sidhhant, Crime
Patrol and Rihayee.
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