Bilal was sitting in the row right behind me at the Max Mueller Bhavan auditorium last Wednesday evening. Accompanying him were his visually impaired parents,Shamim and Humera Begum,his brother,Hamza,his sister and his neighbours. Seven-year-old Bilal could have been just a kid in a cinema hall with his parents,but he was not. He was there to see a film made on his life. A documentary film about the sighted boys life with his blind parents which has won laurels around the world. This was the first time the boy was seeing Bilal (the film is named after him) and he was evidently excited. The 10-minute delay in the screening made him fidgety and by the time the lights were dimmed and the first image flickered on the scree, Humera Begum had had to reprimand her eldest son a number times for making too much noise. Within few seconds,an unrecognizably cherubic boy appeared on the screen. I turned back and stared at the skinny boy behind me to confirm if he is the same kid,and I noticed that Bilal too had the same flummoxed expression on his face. Suddenly,he started giggling. And he giggled through the film,much to the chagrin of his embarrassed mother and the amusement of his indulgent father. Not that the documentary,directed by Film and Television Institute of India alumnus,Sourav Sarangi,is a comedy. Nor is it a sentimental take on what can be best described as a difficult situation. It is set in a central Kolkata slum and documents Shamim and Humera Begums failing efforts to make ends meet,but Sarangi refuses to make it their tragedy. Bilal and his infant brother Hamza,are often rapped,slapped and whipped by their frustrated parents (you can almost hear the sensitized Western audience screaming child-abuse) but you never doubt the fact that these people are the best possible care-givers to Bilal and his brother. The older Bilal was probably laughing at the magic of seeing his life unfold with such assured confidence on the screen. Ironically,Sarangi approached the film with no defined agenda. I first met Bilal when he was only eight months old. My wife dragged me to a government hospital,insisting that I should meet him. I approached him very quietly as I didnt want to scare him. Humera Begum,was clinging on to him and was not aware of my presence. I looked at the baby and smiled. He smiled back and seemed to nudge his mother as if,silently he wanted to communicate my presence to his mother. He was trying to tell her to talk to me. Thats when the film was born, says Sarangi,who made this film with a crew of hardly five people. Sarangis lack of smoothness makes the film compelling. Bilal and his brother,who prove to be quite a handful,can frustrate him,but he never gives up. When I first entered the household,I was shocked. I couldnt believe that these two toddlers could lead a healthy life with two visually impaired people. I would literally babysit them for the first few weeks,but then I realized that I was actually interrupting the smooth-functioning of this household by offering help. I decided to observe things as they were. Thats when I found an emotional connect with the situation, says Sarangi. There are moments in the film where the audience almost hopes that Sarangi would intervene. Moments where a playful Bilal is about to topple over from the bed right in front of an unaware parent,but he doesnt. Its not as if I hadnt intervened. There are many situations where I have. But I soon realized that these little accidents are a part of their lives and the kids are quite used to it. Of course if it were a serious accident I would intervene, says Sarangi. On the other hand,there are moments when you wonder whether you have any business witnessing the little marital discords between Shamim and Humara Begum. After the screening,Shamim came up to me and asked me if the audience will think that their marriage is a failed one because of these scenes. But I feel that these scenes do something quite to the contrary. They tell us why it works, says Sarangi. Bilal and his family today are relatively better off. Shamim,who was unemployed through much of the film has a STD booth on a pavement in central Kolkata. A reputed Bengali film actress has taken the responsibility of Bilals education after seeing the film. Does Sarangi think that this film is actually a blessing for the family? I am a filmmaker not a social worker. My intention was to show a reality and if it has managed to touch lives than all the good, he says. You can book a DVD of Bilal (directors cut) at www.magiclanternfoundation.org
