Flowers with a Flaming Fragrance: SAGA OF A POET — Soudhamini’s Documentary on the Tamil Poet Subramania Bharati
Poet, writer, political activist and social reformer, Subramania Bharati engaged himself in so many spheres in a short span of his life that it’s hard to put them together in a short documentary. Commissioned by Sahitya Academy as an archiving exercise running perhaps for about half an hour, the FTII trained filmmaker and film scholar Soudhamini made an hour-long nonfiction film titled Saga of a Poet (2016) although an older version 28 minutes version is available on the Sahitya Academy channel in YouTube. This essay covers the longer version.
To gain perspective on the Bharati film, it’s useful to explore Satyajit Ray’s 1961 documentary, Rabindranath Tagore, which was released in honor of Tagore’s centenary. Made as an official tribute, Ray avoids controversy, yet it has its memorable moments. While his rich baritone narrates, the film does away with interviews. Notably absent is Tagore’s poetry itself. Ray, unsatisfied with English translations, believed “they wouldn’t do justice if recited,” potentially giving the impression that Tagore “wouldn’t have been a great poet. “[1] The master filmmaker’s documentary weaves together a wealth of drawings, photos, archival footage and enacted scenes to chronicle the impactful life of Tagore, the great polymath who lived to eighty.
The Structure of Saga of a Poet
While there are a few photos of Bharati available, there is no archival footage covering him. Director Soudhamini has used these photos, shots of the places where he lived, some of Bharati’s manuscripts, and the pictures of the publications he was part of. However, due to the scarcity of biographical material, these elements don’t amount to much. In any case, as film historian Theodore Baskaran put it, the director “deliberately chose to portray Bharati as a living presence and influence in contemporary Tamil literature, rather than as an illustrious poet of the past”. [2] Consequently, her film is not a traditional documentary; she refers to it as “creative nonfiction.” [2] Using such an approach, the film shows how Bharati’s works live on in various art forms like Carnatic music, painting, film soundtracks, dance performances, and street plays. Some of his poems are recited and one of his short stories is read out. In addition, there are talks. The structure is a collage of these diverse mediums through which the portrait of Bharati emerges.
Interviews
Standing out as the most insightful interview in the film is with Karthigesu Sivathamby, a prominent Sri Lankan Tamil scholar. He was an expert on Subramania Bharati, having written the book “Bharati Maraivu Mudhal Mahakavi Varai,” which explores the growing appreciation and legacy of Bharati’s work after his demise. Sivathamby starts off by saying, “Gathering the entire legacy of Tamil literature up to his times and changing its course — such was the achievement of Subramania Bharati…” He further emphasizes that with Bharati, Tamil literature becomes a powerful tool for social and political critique. Sivathamby also talks about the mystic quality in Bharati’s language. His interview serves as the backbone of the film, with excerpts woven throughout to illuminate Bharati’s life and work.
In the interview with Devanarayanan, he offers a compelling analysis of Bharati’s epic, “Panchali Sabatham” (Panchali’s Vow), based on the Mahabharata episode of the game of dice. He argues that for Bharati, Panchali served as a metaphor for the nation’s plight, symbolizing India’s humiliation under British rule. Bharati’s aim was to stir his countrymen, who were disillusioned and passive, into action. Appropriately, a street play performance of a sequence from ‘Panchali Sabatham’ is included in the film.
Subramania Bharati, who was also a music scholar, composed many poems for specific ragas and held distinct views on Carnatic music performance. In one of his essays, written about a century ago, he wrote on his concern about repetitive renditions of songs by vidwans. The interview with Carnatic vocalist Sanjay Subrahmanyan discusses this, highlighting its relevance even today, although the Carnatic music scene has undergone changes over a century. Sanjay explains that while the songs themselves remain unchanged, the emotions (rasas) they evoke can vary. He even demonstrates how acclaimed vocalists bring out different rasas.
The Curation
The curation of Bharati’s works offers glimpses into some of his finest poetry and prose. While understandably excluding certain well-known songs, the compilation would have been enhanced by including his lesser-known poems about Jesus Christ and Allah. Saga of a Poet features excerpts from Bharati’s translation and insightful commentary on Patanjali’s ‘Yoga Sutra,’ a lesser-explored facet of his work. Notably, the poems on women’s freedom and the prose poetry stand out as additional highlights. Furthermore, sequences from the 1947 Tamil film Naam Iruvar which showcase Bharati’s songs, exemplify their use in both romantic (stripping them off their metaphysical aspect) and patriotic scenes within Tamil cinema. Although a number of Bharati’s songs have been used in Tamil films over a long period, the documentary focuses solely on songs from Naam Iruvar — possibly due to easier permissions from the film’s producers.
Priyadharshini Govindan’s abhinayam for Bharati’s poem “Paayumoli nee enakku, paarkkum vizhi naan unakku” (“You’re the leaping light. I, the perceiving eye”) stands out as yet another highlight of the film. Titled “Kannamma en Kadhali” (“Kannamma, my Love”), this poem is part of Bharati’s songs that vividly imagine Krishna in various roles. However, this Bharatanatyam sequence shows how the film’s visuals are hampered by the limited budget within which the film appears to have been made.
Last years of Bharati
Bharati’s life lacks authentic documentation in books, resulting in conflicting information about him. For instance, while recounting his final years in Triplicane, Madras (now Chennai), the documentary quotes reports suggesting that children threw stones at him and mocked his tattered attire. However, an alternative account asserts that Bharati was financially comfortable during this period, as assistant editor at “Swadeshamitran” with a handsome monthly salary of Rs. 100. [3]
Concluding Thoughts
Saga of a Poet takes a distinct approach compared to Ray’s film on Tagore. It predominantly focuses on Bharati’s enduring work, which continues to resonate long after his passing, rather than delving into his biography. While Tamil-speaking audiences will easily connect with the compilation of the poems, others can hopefully discern its import, even if English subtitles don’t fully convey the depth of Bharati’s verses. Although a larger budget could have enhanced its production, the film ultimately serves as a valuable archive, capturing the spirit of the poet. As Sivathamby aptly demonstrates, analyzing a single line like “[Nenjil] kanal manakkum pookkal” (flowers with a flaming fragrance) reveals Bharati’s power: not just expressing the inexpressible, but branding it with unforgettable words.
Courtesy: Soudhamini for the stills from her film Saga of a Poet.
References:
1. Andrew Robinson, Satyajit Ray: The Inner Eye, London, Bloomsbury Academic, 2021, pp 277–279.
