A Genius and His Work

Few of us get a chance to watch a genius in action. Dr S. Mitra, one of our members, narrates an interaction with the eminent film director Satyajit Ray, which gave him an insight into the mind of the artist.

As Satyajit Ray’s physician, I’ve had the privilege of speaking to the great man on several occasions. One of my interactions with him gave me a window into his artistic process.
Bishop Lefroy Road, where Satyajit babu’s house stands in old Kolkata, used to be a quiet, tree-lined street. The shelves in his room would spill over with books, the walls would be covered with posters and sketches, and stacks of papers would lay scattered across the table—a clutter that only spoke of a mind constantly at work on his craft.
One day, I went over for a scheduled visit. The room was dimly lit as I walked in. Satyajit babu was lying down. He was wearing his thick-rimmed glasses but had his eyes closed. It was quiet. And yet, a mysterious tune played softly from a small Walkman next to him. It was the sort of music I had never heard before—the insistent beat of drums, the haunting call of flutes, as though the heartbeat of some distant civilisation were echoing around us.
Satyajit babu was completely immersed in the music. I, too, listened, standing motionless, taking in the ambience. After some time, I could no longer contain my curiosity. “Sir,” I said, “where did you find this? How extraordinary! I've never heard anything like it before.”
He opened his eyes. Smiling gently, he said, “Someone sent me this cassette from a remote village in Africa. It’s the festival music of their people—drums and oboe-like instruments.” He added, “I wonder if I might be able to use some of it in my next film.”
When his next film, Aranyer Din Ratri, was released, I went to watch it in the theatre. Lo and behold, I heard a track which evoked the music I had heard in his room that day! It suddenly dawned on me that no corner of the world was truly distant for him. From his room in Kolkata, he was drawing inspiration from the music from an unknown African village. A true artist, I realised, is not satisfied to remain within boundaries; he follows the call of the heart, going wherever it may take him.

(as narrated to Support Elders by our member)