Praise and Poverty: The Dual Realities of Tulsi Chakraborty’s Legacy
Tulsi Chakraborty, a luminary in the golden era of Bengali cinema, left an indelible mark on the Bengali film industry with his unparalleled talent and comedic brilliance. Known for his captivating performances and unique style, Chakraborty was a master of his craft. However, behind the laughter and applause lay a poignant reality — a life marred by financial struggles that sharply contrasted with the acclaim he received. This article delves into the dual realities of Tulsi Chakraborty’s legacy, exploring both the praise he garnered for his contributions and the poverty that silently scarred his remarkable journey.
Born in 1899, Tulsi Chakraborty was involved in many odd jobs for survival in his younger days. He was brought up by his uncle, Prasad Chakraborty, who himself was a talented instrumentalist and led a background musical troupe. Prasadbabu and his troupe used to play live theatrical performances at the renowned Star Theatre. It was under his uncle’s influence that Tulsi Chakraborty eventually chartered on the course to becoming one of the most prominent and respected figures of the Bengali film industry for generations to come. He used to go to the theatre with his uncle and came into contact with the finest actors from the glorious days of the theatre.
A legacy of laughter, applause and tears
He was involved with the Bengali film industry since the mid-1930s, and his career spanned 3 remarkable decades. He was mostly involved in the character roles, where his comedic brilliance brought laughter to countless Bengali households across different generations. His presence in the movies throughout the 1950s illuminated the silver screen with a shimmering light of laughter and warmth. Despite the star cast of the evergreen Sare Chuattor (1953), he outshined the likes of Bhanu Bandhopadhyay, Jahor Roy, Nabadweep Halder, and Shyam Laha with his comedic brilliance and warm jocose presence.
Some of the popular titles that were graced by his presence include gems like Jamalaye Jibonto Manush, Mrityer Morte Agomon, Personal Assistant, Pather Panchali, and so on. Tulsi Chakraborty played the only lead role of his life as the unforgettable Paresh Chandra Dutta in Paras Pathor; the role was offered to him by the visionary Satyajit Ray. He broke down into tears of joy when he was offered the lead role for the first time in his long career. Despite serving in the film industry for over 30 years and giving major hits, he had no awards or financial support to his name. The man was left with nothing besides the love of common people and the respect of his peers, which he treasured till his straining last breath. Once, in an interview, Satyajit Ray claimed that if Tulsibabu had been born in the US, he would have won an Oscar.
In one of the remarkable scenes from Paras Pathor, when, for the first time, Pareshbabu (the protagonist) feels the magical powers of the stone in his hand, and his reality intertwined with the magical realm, he historically broke down into tears. The act was so realistic, it felt like in that particular scene he evoked his heartfelt cry from his real life, as if in that very moment he wanted to believe and wished with all his heart for it to be all true. In his last days, he and his wife had to survive through the utmost poverty. In his late 50s, he had to walk through Howrah to Tollygungue for work; that’s 17 km, and by today’s standard of roadway infrastructure, that would take around 3.5 hours on foot. This is a grim reminder regarding the industry’s oversight and the gaps that persist in valuing and supporting artists in times of need. Even to this day, many veteran artists come forward to assert this prevalent issue.
A contrasting legacy: a call for attention
Chakraborty’s legacy, now celebrated, stands in contrast with the harsh reality that he faced in his lifetime. The applause of the audience, and the respect of his peers juxtaposed against the silence of his financial battles. As we celebrate his legacy, we should also question the systematic challenges being faced by veteran artists to this day. There is no award by his name; there is no lane or street by his name. In the tapestry of time, Tulsi Chakraborty, whose name remains a shining jewel in the crown of the golden era of Bengali cinema, is calling for better days for Bengali cinema and artists.
Through understanding, planning, and proper management, let us hope to provide a more equitable future to the creative minds and the veteran artists of the film industry who have enriched our lives with warmth, love, and laughter.