Ramchandra Gopal or Dadasaheb Torney

From PhalkeFactory
Revision as of 15:24, 29 September 2014 by HansaThapliyal (talk | contribs)

[1]

A young man of 22 made a feature film in 1912 and had it released on the 18th of May, 1912, at the Coronation Cinema. Before Raja Harishchandra.

Pundalik was the name of the film after the manP who brought Vithal to the shrine at Pandharpur.

The story itself:

there was a day in the future when the shabby race over coming first, (which is a crucial way of being remembered) was more forgotten, other firsts had long replaced the film first.. and Dhundiraj Phalke' s Tukaram and Ramachandra Gopal' s Pundalik were part of a busy afternoon screening programme at the Film Appreciation in Pune. The smell of the rain has seeped into air and seed pods are everywhere on the roads around NFAI. Satish Bahadur is lifting the rims of his white pajama cylinders. Mr. Nair, dressed in blacks and greys, (with the rich black of a man in his prime at his sideburns), is all ready, waiting by the main screening room gate.

Students are moving in, talking, opining, not sure of what they think or feel, the corners of their young eyes tinged with a brush dipped in romance, affected by each cool kiss of the breeze at their ears. Older people are easier: the weather toss is an old acquaintance, they recognize her and find themselves sometimes shaking their heads is laughing despair as she shakes them about.

The young really talk a lot as they stand about, waiting, their many words like noisy pebbles trying to hold down the sensation of being carried along like leaves.

Ramachandra Gopal gets a small smile watching Satish Bahadur walk with those lifted pajamas and sees therefore that his mind is letting go for some time this afternoon, of the decades old feeling of unfairness.. Even if only in this land which is at some unknown juncture of possibilities, someone's idle wish on the internet highway, these people before him at the Archive gate are still, lovers of the medium. He concentrates on the approaching man to not think further, he looks carefully at the now soaked ends of the pajama legs. He concentrates on what he hopes for.. yes, he is hoping some locals will brave the rains and join the audience of mostly film students..he hopes he will not be asked to make a preliminary speech to emphasize the point that so much can be forgiven, he thinks he might refuse, he thinks he will go and say things as he felt them. He wonders if Phalke might come, he might not come at all, he is gone senile, is old, ailing, says mad thing. Maybe he, Ramachandra should feel sorry for Dhundiraj and forgive him. The rain is coming down in sheets of mist now, it is difficult to see, everyone is in, Ramachandra turns away and stops as he sees a silhouette of a large balding head in the pouring rain, an old man in a limp dhoti, a face made of furrows. Ramachandra's breath catches and pulls at a pair of strings that open wider the lids of his eyes