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Uttam Kumar A Lifes Unveiled Chapters
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Uttam Kumar’s many tales,
Known by only a few in trails.
Some words he shared with a co-actor,
Whose name remains unknown thereafter.
Acting’s first challenge, common for all,
A hand on the cheek, I recall.
Lost in thought, my hand spun ’round,
Thinking of this, my mind unwound.
A new actress spoke of it one day,
Uttam Kumar lifted her in a play.
Sometimes hair, sometimes the saree’s flow,
He managed all with an expert’s know.
Then came the last scene’s event,
Uttam Kumar, lips curved, descent.
Once the shot was captured, alas,
He repeated it several times, no less.
In some things, he wasn’t keen,
His mind found acting not so pristine.
Director’s words at the finale,
Hands clapped after, a joyful rally.
Thus ended his acting spree,
Life’s last scene, the final decree.
People’s hearts filled that day,
Perfectionist’s work, in disarray.
A kiss scene in a movie once lay,
With a co-actress, he’d portray,
In her distress, he’d lay a hand cold,
Saying, “We’ll manage,” bold and bold.
Then from behind, he’d turn his head,
The kiss scene, in camera’s stead.
Later edited with great care,
A perfect shot, beyond compare.
A fear of ghosts, it’s been said,
An incident around this thread.
Taking his family along, they say,
Uttam Kumar fled one day.
Planning to meet them there,
A house stood, their joys to share.
Later, he shared the sad truth,
A suicide had robbed them of youth.
Haunted by a spectral dread,
Leaving the house, he sped.
From behind, he saw with dread,
A snake-charmer’s image, a shiver’s thread.
Uttam Kumar, football and cricket in play,
Loved games, in leisure’s sway.
Apart from that, wrestling, fencing so dear,
He’d practice, his goals were clear.
He found time to learn,
Hindi and Urdu, within his turn.
Even in leisure, it’s true,
Music and singing he’d pursue.
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Uttam Kumar, A Positive Man
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Uttam Kumar, the Positive Soul,
A tale of days in celluloid roll.
Shooting for “Harano Sur” did unfold,
Ajay Kar directing, a story to be told.
Suchitra Sen and Uttam Kumar, stars so bright,
In lead roles, their talents taking flight.
1977, Calcutta’s bustling streets,
A cityscape where time and life meets.
Studio Para, an elderly village’s charm,
Where creativity weaves its artistic arm.
One government bus, a lone traveler’s ride,
Sunset brought its end, by evening’s side.
Technicians toiled, preferred the twilight’s grace,
Finishing their work at evening’s embrace.
Else they faced the toil of the road,
Homeward bound, a journey bestowed.
An important scene, a musical delight,
Uttam-Suchitra’s chemistry taking flight.
Director’s aide, a task to bestow,
Jasmine garlands, night’s fragrant glow.
Garlands delayed, but not the despair,
Arrangement made, with utmost care.
A borrowed motorbike, the need of the hour,
A young man’s assistance, a willing power.
Words whispered softly, a secret to share,
In hushed tones, a message rare.
Garlands arrive, Gita Dutt’s sweet voice, “Tumi Je Amar,”
a song of love’s choice.
The shot captured hearts, emotions unfurled,
A scene of romance, in a cinematic world.
The next day, Uttam Kumar confides,
Garlands on a corpse’s neck abides.
To the boy, the truth was revealed,
In the midst of life, a mystery concealed.
“Retrieve the garlands,” Uttam’s command,
A task entrusted, a journey so grand.
The crematorium, a place to explore,
Where life and death forever pour.
Garlands sought, a sacred quest,
From the neck of the departed’s rest.
Suchitra’s unawareness, a twist of fate,
A tale of destiny, scripted by a higher state.
Ajay Kar’s eyes, a teardrop’s dance,
A smile born of circumstance.
“Essential is the shot,” he mused,
In life’s tapestry, a moment fused.
Uttam Kumar, a positive thinker’s lore,
In celluloid memories, forevermore.
