Memoirs are fundamentally distinct from autobiographies. While the latter deals with linear, fact-driven accounts of a person’s life, the former recreates past moments and is steered by a stronger creative impulse.
Brigadier (retd) A R Siddiqi’s A City, Cinema and A Community can be read as a memoir that chronicles the author’s passionate relationship with cinema and frames it in personal hues. The emphasis is on reclaiming a glorious bygone era in a unique and intriguing manner.
Through crisp, immersive prose, Siddiqi casts a revealing light on the abiding influence of cinema on his life. At the same time, the author seeks to capture the intricacies of life in Delhi, where he was born and spent his childhood.
In a tightly braided chapter, Siddiqi explores how the advent of the bioscope had an enduring impact on his childhood psyche. However, his canvas isn’t just restricted to personal recollections, but also delves into more public accounts of how cinema altered the rhythm of life in Delhi. He describes it as a “tidal wave in Delhi’s still waters” -- a radical development that reversed the process of “decay and decomposition” after the decline of the Mughal Empire. Siddiqi reflects on how religious groups vehemently opposed the bioscope. In addition, he offers some captivating insights and trivia on the golden era of cinema.
Another chapter provides some rich and poignant recollections of Delhi’s Chandni Chowk from a now forgotten phase of history characterised by economic slumps, inter-faith harmony and Congress protests against the British Raj. Cinema’s transformative influence on Delhi also figures prominently as the driving force in this chapter. Siddiqi evokes memories of H S Fazal-i-Illahi & Sons, the largest general merchant store in Chandni Chowk with four cinemas nearby.
In ‘Advent of Cinema: Random Memories,’ Siddiqi presents a formidable, well-researched account of the film world in pre-Partition India. Mehboob Khan’s noteworthy contributions to cinema are at the heart of another chapter. The author offers a first-hand account of watching Khan’s ill-timed film Elan. His aim is not to overwhelm readers with complex scholarly insights on cinema. Instead, he approaches his material through a personal lens, which renders his work all the more accessible.
When it is difficult for the author to rely on his arsenal of personal memories, he draws attention to factual accounts. This can be evidenced in ‘Quaid’s Driver: A Movie Extra,’ which pays homage to Jinnah’s driver and small-time film actor Muhammad Hanif. The story of this unsung figure -- delivered in the first-person narrative perspective -- has been immortalised by Saadat Hasan Manto in Mera Sahib. Siddiqi is cognisant of this fact and, therefore, echoes the spirit of Manto’s piece without deviating too far from the realm of facts. As a result, the chapter is brief and unencumbered by the rich personal flavour abundant in the other sections of the book.
In a radical departure from the strictly non-fictional focus of the text, the final section includes a novella, which features two girls who belong to the Punjabi Saudagaran community of Ballimaran. The fictional account makes a powerful comment on how the bioscope produced a clash between conservatism and modernity. While Siddiqi’s novella suffers from a few noticeable slip-ups, it is fluid and richly imagined and offers an alternative means of understanding the themes explored throughout the book.
A City, Cinema and A Community offers an intimate glimpse of how the bioscope revolutionised notions of propriety and entertainment in the Indian subcontinent. Siddiqi draws upon this theme by expanding the creative possibilities of the memoir.
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