Filmindia (1941)

March 1^41 ■ILMINDiA Rajkumari, chic and sweet, becomes a new star in "Kacha Devyani" directed by K, Subrahma/nyam. autographs and talked of better piclures. But they had come to learn something from Mr. Patel, and they left leaving behind all about Adoni, its population, trade, cinemas, schools, institutions, Hindu-Muslim ratio, its politics. Baburao Patel interviewed them and got everything out in exchange for his autographs. What surprised me was the affection with which the students regarded Baburao Patel. They looked up to him in all filmic matters and when Baburao said "Don't see bad pictures and ultimately the producers will be compelled to give you good ones", they promised obedience. As the train moved, "Baburao Patel-Ki-Jai" went forth enthusiastically, a cry which I was destined to hear a hundred times on this tour. At Guntakal, the railway employees seemed to be mighty interested in "filmindia." I am sure that the ticket collectors must have let off many ticketless passengers in their rush to meet Baburao Patel and obtain his autograph. The students, ofcourse, made their noisy appearance and talked in chorus, all together, about the rotten pictures they were getting. , .-^ They seemed to consider the Tefugu pictures better in value than the Tamil ones. At Renigunta, Messrs. N. V. Chari and P. Balu, two sworn supporters of "filmindia", led a large batch of fans, to go through the very same routine that was observed at the previous stations. But relief here was provided by the lads getting tiny oranges as presents. Those oranges did prove useful, after the whistle, to wet our parched throats through the hot belt that the train was travelling. By this time, Baburao Patel's popularity was getting boring to everyone including me except, ofcourse, himself. So all in the compartment looked forward to the smaller stations and hoped that the train would stop longer there than at the bigger ones. AT MADRAS AT LAST Through dust and heat and the unending questions of Baburao Patel at last we reached Madras next day evening at five-thirty. The first .^an t. v^elcome our editor was the ever smiling Mr. K. Subrahmanyam of Madras United Artists and with him was his charming little daughter Lalitha. Behind these two was a full back ground of producers, distributors, exhibitors and journalists of the South. "Where is your Secretary" asked Mr. Subrahmanyam and as I heard it and saw the large crowd, I trembled out of the compartment only to be choked by flowers and garlands. They all shook hands with me. In their simple unsophisticated, kind and sincere way they just took my hands, whichever was available, and shook them — permission or no permission. I liked it. It was so difi'erent from the calculated and detached politeness we generally meet in Bombay. These folks of the South have more humanity in them and seem to lead a more sentimental life than those in the smoky city of Bombay. I looked around for Baburao Patel. He was looking like a huge arbor of flowers. There were enough flowers on him to get fift.y maidens married without shortage. Then came the conventional press photographs and the garlands had to be unloaded to expose the human beings below. MACHINE GUN SHOOTING Introductions over, Baburao Patel got going. He wanted to know everyone, everything, and everyone's business in addition. As if from a Aft0;r "Sumangali". From left to Mr. Ramnath, Mr. Nagiah, Mr. right: — Mr. B. N. Reddy, Mr. Sekhar, Baburao Patel and Miss Rita Carlyle. 25