By Haimanti Dutta Ray
The world knows Subrata Mitra as the cinematographer of Satyajit Ray’s first movie Pather Panchali. That the film, its director and its crew went on to make history in the arena of world cinema, is the subject of discourse in intellectual circles. But what I am about to recount here concerns that single man and my personal associations with him – Subrata Mitra.
I was studying in high school and my father, painter Shyamal Dutta Ray, had developed cardiac problems. I can’t tell how both of them became acquainted with each other. But Subrata Mitra used to arrive at our house everyday to measure Baba’s BP. His big, almost elephantine physique with high-powered eyeglasses, was further accentuated by his dry sense of wit. The rhyming couplets that he wrote in my autograph book stand as a testimony.
My father Shyamal Dutta Ray was primarily a water colorist, whose paintings are parts of such places like the British Museum, Sotheby’s and Christie’s in London. Before him, water colors were used to depict landscapes only. But Baba had used the medium to depict social themes like disillusionment of the common man, the king who is actually a pauper in disguise etcetera.
Subrata Mitra became so close to Baba that he took to creating small artworks himself which he began showing to Baba. These were mainly small portraits. My household name is Doel, which is the Oriental Magpie robin. The rhyming verse in Bangla was penned by Subrata Mitra on my request. I had asked him to provide an autograph. Instead, he wrote two full pages of verse! I even had the good fortune of watching a movie with him at the Gorky Sadan in Kolkata (erstwhile Calcutta).
I have also been to his house on Sarat Bose Road, much near the Puddapukur area. His house had been just beside my center for the Higher Secondary Examination. I used to go there in the half time interval when my mother arrived, carrying a huge glass of mosambi juice. His ground floor residential area provided that amount of soothing balm to my frayed and tensed nerves. His house is now in a dilapidated state of disrepair. It peeves me to think that the house of such a personage should come to this condition. I had also watched and marveled at the last film where he worked as the cinematographer – New Delhi Times.
He also possessed some strange whims. Whenever he came to our house, he insisted on having his tea in glasses, instead of cups.
One day, he arrived and said that he needed to hold a discussion with our cook. This was for two specific reasons. One, his own cook had been bitten by a dog and hence he wanted advice from her, who was likewise bitten a few days earlier. Two, he advised time and again that, as my father was suffering from heart ailments, our food should be lightly cooked – using minimum of oil. He had even chagrined my mother stating that she wasn’t taking good care of Baba.
By Haimanti Dutta Ray
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