Among the many hidden gems in Shyam Benegal’s magnum opus Bharat Ek Khoj, my personal favourite remains a song sequence in episode 47. The episode is dedicated to the life and works of Swami Vivekanand. Hamare Prabhu Augun Chit Na Dharo (Dear Lord, please overlook my sins)—these are the opening words of a devotional song sung by a nartaki (a nautch girl) in honour of Swami Vivekanand, just days before he was to embark on his iconic journey to the United States, which included his most famous Chicago address. The sanskari (cultured) young monk did not want to be polluted by the corrupting influence of a nartaki. He therefore decided to boycott the concert. However, the words “Augun chit na dharo” woke him up. I wish I could describe the scene in words.
The lessons he learned about the futility of discrimination based on concepts of pollution and purity—ideas that, incidentally, form the foundation of the entrenched caste system in India—helped Vivekananda become a proponent of universal humanism.
Another gem is Irfaan Khan’s dialogue in episode 51, which focuses on separatism and the kind of phase Muslim society was going through in India in the 1920s and 1930s. The essence of what he said was this: Religion is a personal matter, and all that minorities should demand is a conducive environment that allows them to practice their faith in peace. He was talking about his family that had members in the Congress, the Muslim League, and was part of Khilafat movement. None, according to him, had a clue as to how to address the minority question.
Episode 28 celebrates the coming of age of the Vijayanagara Empire, and episode 37 salutes the valour of Shivaji.
India Of The ’80s
I have selectively chosen these themes because they reflect the issues shaping India in the 1980s. These were the concerns of a nation emerging from the trauma of a bloody partition, attempting to undo its colonial legacy, grappling with the omnipresent caste question, facing the growing threat of regional disparity, and trying to define the roles of historical icons in contemporary discourse.
The 1980s also witnessed horrific communal riots across the country. Incidents in Uttar Pradesh’s Moradabad (1980), Assam’s Nellie (1983), Maharashtra’s Bhiwandi (1984), Delhi (1984), Ahmedabad (1985) and Bihar’s Bhagalpur (1989) deepened existing divisions. The founding principles of the nascent republic were increasingly being tested. The decade proved to be a precursor to much bigger changes that followed in the 1990s and later.
India had to be rediscovered—four decades after its tryst with destiny. No one could have done the job better than Shyam Benegal. Based on the acclaimed Discovery of India, written by India’s first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, Bharat Ek Khoj was produced and telecast in the late 1980s by the national broadcaster Doordarshan. It was rerun in 2020 during the COVID-19 pandemic.
How I Rediscovered The Show During COVID-19
I missed its original run for several reasons—the unreliable Doordarshan signal in a remote Bihar township was the primary one. My experience with the rerun was dramatic as well. Faced with unexpected circumstances during the pandemic, I found myself playing the role of a motivator to someone very close to my heart. It struck me then that there is no better source of inspiration than immersing oneself in the history of India’s glorious civilisation. That’s how I discovered Bharat Ek Khoj. I can confidently say that it was one of the most satisfying things I had done in a long time.
I have watched many of Shyam Benegal’s works, and most of them left a lasting impression. But none more than Bharat Ek Khoj—for its clear, uncluttered storytelling, its unbiased approach, its celebration of Indian civilisation in all its glory, its courage in confronting tricky situations, and its avoidance of sensationalism. You need to watch it to form your own conclusion. But watch you must.
I would place the series on a different pedestal for its mesmerising music too. There are many memorable pieces throughout, but let me highlight a few: the devotional chant Niranjan Nirakaar in the very first episode, two shringar rasa songs (one of which is just 20 seconds long) in episode 18 on Kalidasa, and, of course, the bhajan I mentioned earlier.
For making Bharat Ek Khoj, I would place Shyam Benegal among India’s finest storytellers. And as a tribute to him, I would like to watch some of the episodes of the show yet again.
(The author is Consulting Editor, NDTV)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author
