SCENE 1 - EX / TRIMBAK / BRAHMGIRI HILL / DAY - 1878
A small boy sits on a flight of stone stairs leading down into a deep pond. The child is
slipping some chips of stone bearing the name of RAMA into the water. Surprisingly, the
chips start to float.
(Enacting his kathavachak father and maybe even school teachers)
DHUNDIRAJ
Come, each of you write lord RAMA's name on the stones and throw them into
KUSHAVARTA
FRIEND1:
Hey Dhundi, why would our stones float on water?
DHUNDIRAJ
Why not? If you write with faith, even your stones will float; come on, throw your
stones.
FRIEND 2
Hey, my stone is floating!!
FRIEND 3
Mine too!
FRIEND1
And mine, but how come our stones are floating? Where did you get them from?
DHUNDIRAJ
They’re floating because these are not stones but coals ( Dagdi Kolsa )
FRIEND1
Oh, that’s why they were lighter.
FRIEND2:
I thought it was really some divine power!! Ha ha!
DHUNDIRAJ
OK now, all of you line up and tell me what role you are playing.
FRIEND 2
Angad
FRIEND 3
Jamvant
FRIEND 4
Sugriv
FRIEND 5
Laxman
FRIEND 1
Halumal
DHUNDIRAJ
What is this? You cannot even pronounce a simple word, how will you deliver whole
sentences? Come on, somebody else can become Hanuman.
FRIEND
This is not fair Dhundi, I’ll never play with you ever again.
(Crying and angry he runs off.)
FRIEND5:
Dhundi, why do you play RAMA all the time?
Today, I'll be RAMA or else even I won’t play.
DHUNDIRAJ
Well, for that you’ll have to learn the whole of the Ramayana by heart, if you agree, I
have no issue.
FRIEND5:
Sorry, no conditions please!
FRIEND2:
Hey Rakhma, leave that lamb and come here. You’re supposed to play Sita.
RAKHMA:
Mind you, it’s not a simple lamb; it’s the 'Golden Deer'. Dhundi, would you take my
lamb in our play?
All the children erupt into peals of laughter.
CHILDREN
Ha Ha Ha
FRIEND3:
Lamb? In the Ramayana? What a joke!
FRIEND 4:
Can your lamb speak?
RAKHMA:
Don't make a fool of my lamb, why should my lamb speak? We will make the lamb run
like the Golden Deer, and anybody can shout "Laxmana, save me" What’s the big deal?
DHUNDIRAJ
Hello, is anybody going to listen to me? Enough of your suggestions.
As they are engrossed in their play, a mist appears, blindfolding every one in its
whiteness.
Fade in a mix of tribal marriage ceremonial music.
In that white veil of the mist, the children, mesmerized, watch a marriage procession, all
kinds of freaks and creatures following Shivji who is sitting on a bull.
When the mist clears, the sky is blue and crystal clear, but the mountain has turned white,
like the Himalayas.
And far, far away Shivji’s marriage procession disappears over a mist-covered hill.
The spell is broken when, from a distance, one friend comes running shouting, breathless.
FRIEND
Dhundi...Dhundi.....
Nobody is going to listen to you anymore, the British have come to arrest your father!
Everybody gets tense and surprised on hearing the news.
FRIEND2:
My God, the British? They’re very cruel!
FRIEND3:
Their soldiers hit very hard!
FRIEND4:
They have big leather whips!
DHUNDIRAJ
Shut up, you’re all fooling me. Why would the British arrest my father? It’s all lies.
Dhundiraj runs home.
SCENE 2 - IN / EX DAJI SHASTRI PHALKE’S HOUSE / LANE OUT SIDE
EVENING / 1878
As Dhundiraj approaches his house, he finds the lane leading in very congested and sees
a big crowd gathered around his house.
He slows down and starts to panic, but still pushes his way through the legs of the
crowds, only to find a British soldier right in front of his door.
Dhundiraj is completely soaked in sweat and terrified. He gathers strength and rushes out
of the crowd to enter his own house from the back.
Going from one dark room to the next, he finally finds the rest of his family. He settles by
his mother who is standing behind the door.
Daji Shastri (Dhundiraj’s father) and a British man are discussing something.
Sheets of airplane designs from an old Sanskrit text, Viman Shastra, lie scattered between
them
Unable to comprehend what they are talking about, Dhundiraj keeps peeking out at his
father. Dhundiraj’s father sees him peeping and reads his face. He smiles at little
Dhundiraj and calls him in.
The smile on his father’s face is enough to release the tension and a relieved Dhundiraj
runs towards his father and embraces him. The boy is overjoyed that his father is safe.
Dhundiraj’s father introduces little Dhundiraj to the guest, and tells him that his father is
going to teach the Britisher Sanskrit and other allied things.
BRITISH MAN
Will you come with us to Bombay, young man? We’re taking your father away with us,
to teach in a college
Dhundiraj looks around him uncomprehendingly.
Shaking hands with the British guest, the boy is awe-struck and unknowingly moves his
hand over white skin, pink nails, and gazes with wonder at the wrist watch, chained
spectacles, hairdo, golden mustache etc.
Then, concluding their discussion, the British man and Dhundiraj’s father walk towards
the main door.
The crowd scatters and settles down a bit further away to see what’s going on.
Seeing the Britisher bowing down and greeting the elder Phalke abruptly brings an end to
the expected climax, and everybody is spellbound at what they are witnessing.
Dhundiraj’s joy knows no bounds. He runs straight down to the pond and his favorite
play places, singing and dancing, all on his own and almost neglecting all his friends
running about behind him.
SCENE 3 - EX/IN / SPACE STUDIO / NIGHT / 1917
13-year old Babarai, dressed up like Hanuman, is flying against a full moon, carrying the
three-storied Phalke studio in his palm.
His shadow falls floating over miniaturized landscapes below.
Babarai brings the tiny little studio closer to his face and peeps inside through the
window. The two big eyes of mischievous Hanuman fill the frame.
Inside, Phalke, from the black-and-white footage of “How films are made” is seated at his
table, thinking, with a pen in his hand.
Now Babarai peeps inside the hall.
5-year old Mandakini,, 9-year old Mahadev, and 3-year old Neelkanth are sleeping in a
row. The mother is putting 1-year old Prabhakar to sleep, singing a lullaby. He chuckles
in his dream.
Phalke starts writing. His voice begins to read out what he is writing.
PHALKE
Suddenly I remember a true story of my early days. I was running a photography shop in
Godhra in the state of Baroda. My business required me to travel all the time. In those
days, there was a great demand for Sanskrit manuscripts, and my hunger for knowledge
was also limitless.
Prabhakar is fast asleep.
Saraswati, his mother, gets up, and goes down the steps leading to the second floor.
She passes through the mask and make-up room, and enters the processing and
developing room. She sits down in front of the developing and printing machine, and
starts working, her hand moving as if spinning a wheel.
There is no sound in the entire house except the sound of the film passing through the
liquid chemical. It is pure silence, like that in a space craft.
The film passes through the printer, then through a developing tank
A miniature image of Kamala, Phalke’s first wife, tries to come to life as Saraswati
examines her expression. Each frame by itself is frozen, like a pinned butterfly, some
times fogged, ghost-like, restless, reluctant to be photographed...