Ray-esque | A look at Satyajit Ray's fascinating domestic life

Satyajit Ray’s domestic life, during the shooting of a film, was different from his normal routine. During shooting, if he was not outdoors filming a movie, he would wrap up work on the sets in the studio in Calcutta not usually beyond six in the evening, return home and get back to his study and start preparing for the next day’s shooting. Poring over his screenplay and fine-tuning dialogues.

Otherwise, on a normal day, away from the studio floors, Ray was an early riser. He habitually was, of course, even during film shooting. He would be out of bed between six and seven in the morning. Before he was plagued by illness with two crushing heart-attacks between 1983 and 1984. After taking breakfast and browsing over the newspapers, he would head for his study. Once in his chair, he would begin responding to the letters which had arrived.

“If it was a customary letter, he would reply straight away. But, if it happened to be important or formal, father would write out a draft and key into the typewriter,” informs Sandip, Ray’s son. “Fan mail would come in generally from adults in the early days, because he had not made movies for children till then. Fan mail from children began to pour in after father turned a writer with the rebirth of Sandesh in 1961 and the arrival of Professor Shanku, Feluda and other stories penned by him. Amazingly, father would reply to virtually everyone who sent letters and took even more special care with mail from children. After letter-writing was over, he would turn his focus on illustrations for stories. He always preferred to concentrate on illustrations, whether black and white or colour, in natural light. Once illustrations were through, if the plot of a story emerged, he would begin writing it without any delay whatsoever,” expands Sandip.

He goes on to explain that if a storyline surfaced in his father’s mind, he would not budge from his chair and none in the family could stop him from writing. “He was an incredibly fast writer and would pen short stories in a day’s time and novels in six days or a week. Mother would need to remind him about his bath and lunchtime. He would draft out his stories and novels in a special notebook which he purchased from Oxford Bookstore in Calcutta. But, film screenplays were always written in the kheror khatas (read cloth-bound notebooks),” underlines Sandip.

At the same time, visitors would drop by at the Ray household to meet the maestro. Ray, according to Sandip, enjoyed meeting people and interacting with them. Amongst these visitors, would be a fairly large section who would come over to express their unflinching interest in acting in Ray’s films. “But, father was extremely keen that the entire family was present during breakfast, lunch and dinner. That’s where the family members were not only updated on his work, but an overall interface between everyone one of us transpired. He would very subtly insist on it. Although, one must add here that he hardly spent much time over eating,” Sandip says, giving an insight into father’s household life.

Besides, Satyajit Ray had to receive a spate of phone calls throughout the day. He hadn’t appointed a secretary to handle that diurnal chore. His name was in the telephone directory. Normally, celebrities get their names struck off from the phone book. But, despite enjoying worldwide fame, he shunned donning the trappings of a star.

While illustrations were completed during daytime, writing would continue till late evening. If the master was relatively free for a while, he would indulge himself in listening to Western Classical music sometime during the evenings. Evenings naturally used to witness more visitors. If someone “interesting” came across, Ray would invite his family to join in. So, an interaction between members of the family again resulted. Of course, Sandip would refrain from barging in too much if it was a conversational session between adults and his father. “I hardly used to disturb father if he was working in his study alone. The family would dine around nine or nine-thirty at night, after which father would spend time in his study to clear his day’s backlog of work. Then, he retired for the day with an arresting book or magazine and gradually dozed off,” Sandip recounts.

As part of his domestic routine, Ray put in a huge time and effort to illustrate stories written by contributors to Sandesh from 1961. “By a ballpark estimate, father turned out around a hundred illustrations every year for contributors’ writings. I have arrived at this number, because I was in the process of scanning these illustrations till very recently,” says Sandip emphatically. “One can gauge what this figure works out to when one accounts for father’s illustrations also for his own literary works. In fact, one of the attractions for well-known writers to contribute to Sandesh is that they could use father’s illustrations when compilations of their writings were churned out by publishers,” informs Sandip.

Sandesh being in the genre of a ‘little magazine’, Satyajit Ray would tell established authors with frankness that wouldn’t manage to remunerate them for their contributions, but that they could include his illustrations in the collections of their works brought out by publishers. “Father compensated them in this manner. Amongst renowned authors who wrote for Sandesh, the regulars included Sunil Gangopadhyay, Sirshendu Mukhopahyay, Sanjib Chattopahyay and Nabanita Deb Sen. There were also old contributors, like Gauri Dharmapal, of Sandesh who wrote a brilliant series on the Panchatantra for which father came up with resplendent illustrations,” Sandip elucidates. “So, there was hardly a gap or free space in father’s life,” stresses Sandip. “I have never ever found him ensconced in his chair and ruminating. He was always working on something. That explains his stupendous output. While scanning his varied illustrations for Sandesh, which, I feel, is a critical exercise, I have found them to be unending. And, the illustrations exhibit a whole expanse of genres like comic, serious to caricatures. Executed in a wide range of techniques,” Sandip describes.

“So, his domestic life was chock-a-block. He didn’t sit back and take a breather. Illustrating for Sandesh and making corrections in and improving and rewriting contributors’ writings, which excludes, of course, those from established writers, formed a major chunk of his domestic existence. He would also talk to Sandesh’s contributors and inform them about changes he was executing in their stories.

“Besides, he discussed with his collaborating editors at Sandesh about typefaces in the magazine and go for changes if a typeface was outdated. Having worked in an advertising firm and creating book covers for Signet Press, he was fully aware of these elements. This, together with pursuing the life of an author and illustrator of his tales himself and drafting detailed film screenplays, making films and bringing off the gamut of work related to movie making was an unimaginable quantum of work. His approach to time-management was sheer magic. I am clueless about this aspect,” expresses Sandip candidly.

“In the run-up to the Durga Pujas, father would also interact with reputed writers about stories they had turned out for Puja Special editions and inquire about writings by them he should zero in on. If he felt that a writing was cinematic and could be transcreated as a film, Satyajit Ray at best, read it twice and then embarked on penning the film script in his own outstanding manner without going back to the original story. That was his style. And, once a screenplay germinated in his mind, he ran through it extremely swiftly,” explains Sandip. “Then, after being satisfied with the script, he handed it to mother for her views. In turn, the screenplay was transferred from the red cloth-bound notebooks to foolscap sheets and honed,” Sandip adds.

The maestro obviously received several invitations to attend film festivals at home and abroad for participating as jury member and more often than not accepted them. “But, because of a string of activities back in his study in Calcutta, he would refrain from spending more time than required at these venues. This was again part of his method of time management. I have never seen him staying back for an extra day anywhere. He expressed that his creative juices only flowed when he was couched in the chair in his study,” Sandip says. “But, if he went abroad, he would invariably return with gifts for every one of us and others who had requested him for something. He would make a list of them in a notebook.”

Once Ray had travelled to New York. It happened that on the eve of his departure, a journalist called expressing his interest to interview him. Ray told the correspondent that the next day was his last in the US and he had kept the day aside for shopping. He, however, invited the journalist to accompany him while he went about shopping. The interviewer grabbed the opportunity and accompanied Satyajit Ray to the stores the next day. “This journalist’s interview with father, interestingly, also incorporated father’s schedule and gifts he bought for us,” reminisces Sandip with amusement and nostalgia.

Ray savoured the “feel and atmosphere” of the south Calcutta localities when lived in his Lake Avenue and Lake Temple Road homes. “He loved the experience of young adults in his ‘para’ (locality) chatting outside their houses. He also thoroughly enjoyed the ambience during Durga Puja when microphones in the locality played songs and music and the beat of drums at Puja pandals. And, the Mahalaya radio broadcast of All India Radio’s Birendra Krishna Bhadra early in the morning, one week before the Pujas, floated in from nearby houses. He looked forward to the arrival of ‘natun gur’ (a sweetmeat) after Kali Pujas which also ushered in the winters in Calcutta. He was very Bengali at heart,” points out Sandip.

So, when the Ray family moved to a more Anglicized locality on Bishop Lefroy Road in 1970, when Ray’s film Pratidwandi (The Adversary) was being released, the master had initially expressed his reservations. But, then Bijoya Ray (Ray’s wife) convinced him that his books, records and manuscripts had burgeoned enormously and he required a larger study. Of course, Satyajit Ray gradually became “attached” to his new home.

The master’s domestic affairs also included his visits to his saloon, A.N. John, and the Oxford Bookstore on Park Street. He would also drop by at book shops like Kallicharan’s, Shukla and Company and Tiwari’s in New Market. And, Foreign Books in the Grand Hotel arcade. “But, he did all these rounds at one go. It wasn’t spread out over several days. That was another instance of the manner in which he organised his life,” says Sandip.

Satyajit Ray also attended Western Classical concerts even later in life and Indian Classical music soirees which ran throughout the night in the early half of his life. “I remember the famed gospel singer Mahalia Jackson visiting Calcutta and performing at the St Paul’s Cathedral. Father was very keen to listen to her and took me along to the concert. It was naturally a terrific experience,” recalls Sandip. “Everytime Pandit Ravi Shankar came across to Calcutta, he would invite father to his performances at private gatherings.” Pandit Ravi Shankar, as most are aware by now, had scored the music in the maestro’s trailblazing Apu Trilogy and then Paras Pathar. Ray’s directorial colleagues in Calcutta also invited him to their movie premieres. “He remained in touch with everything that was happening. He was very alert. But, he never maintained a ‘Things To Do’ sort of a diary. Everything was crystal clear in his mind,” observes Sandip.

”Father used to rarely paste the sign, ‘Please Do Not Disturb’, on the door to his study. It was only seen when he would compose music for his films. Music composition was so complex a process that he was compelled to deter visitors,” emphases Sandip.

An aspect which must be reiterated again is that Satyajit Ray uniquely shuffled his family life and packed everyday existence with inexplicable mastery. Quite rare for an intellectual of his stature.

Ashoke Nag is a veteran writer on art and culture with a special interest in legendary filmmaker Satyajit Ray.

All images from Satyajit Ray Society