Husain was in Calcutta to meet Mother Teresa for the first time ever. He had prepared a portrait of hers, and he did not know how to paint her face as he had never seen his own mother, who had died in his infancy when he was barely one year old. He had painted the portrait of his own mother, but that was of a receding woman walking away from him, wearing a Langdaar saree, which is the traditional attire of a Marathi woman.
He searched in vain for days for what image to assign to her face and roamed the galleries of Europe until he saw the giant statues of Greek Gods. He noted that their facial features were less emphasized than the personality depicted in their powerful bodies and the strong folds of their robes. Then he decided on the portrait of Mother Teresa, where he left the facial features blank. He painted the image of a young child clinging to the robe of Mother Teresa, completely at peace with himself and enjoying the bliss of a mother’s love in solitude.
Kolkata has been a happening place for a long, long time. Earlier, it used to be known for the three pujas: Durga Puja, Kali Puja, and Saraswati puja. Almost every other colony would have a huge pandal erected, and then the event would be organised with all zeal and devotion. Then another reason why Calcutta was popular was because it has been a popular centre for art and culture, and regular art exhibitions and cultural events used to be held. One reason for their popularity is that in West Bengal, artwork is classified as handicraft and therefore not taxable, which makes it more affordable for buyers.
When none of these were happening, then there was the good old Eden Gardens, where all the cricket matches used to be held, which drew large crowds. Apart from this, football has been the most favourite game of Bengal. The IFA Shield tournament, which is held regularly every year, was a major crowd puller. Popular football teams of the city are Mohan Bagan, East Bengal, and Mohmadan Sporting. The bulk of the Indian football team has players from these major teams.
Husain had a number of good friends there. To name a few, Russi Mody of the Tatas and Naresh Kumar, the famous tennis ace of his time, and of course Satyajit Ray, the renowned filmmaker. Whenever he visited Calcutta, he met these friends regularly.
When Husain called from Calcutta in mid-March 1979 and announced that he was coming to visit us the next day, I did not know what to tell him as we were in the midst of our annual training camp. I asked him if his visit could be postponed, as we were away from our location for the camp. He asked about our activities in the training camp. I told him that we fine-tune our skills and procedures so that we can provide infallible signal communication to our Formation during war. He replied that it was the best time for him to come, as he had never been to a battle and was keen to know how we function in a war-like situation. He assured us he would not disturb our activities. That is how Husain landed in Masimpur (Cantonment Town of Silchar in Assam) in March 1979 and spent a couple of days with us before proceeding to Imphal for another commitment. He used to carry a sketchbook and made some drawings during his stay in our camp. I did not know of their existence until my daughter Anjum discovered them in 2014 while going through the catalogue of Christie’s Auction House in New York.
The reserve price for these drawings was 7 lakhs, but they were sold for a much higher price of 29 lakhs. Today, its value would be over a crore of rupees. If I had known of their existence, I would have asked Husain Sahab to give it to us, and I’m sure he would have done this happily. At my request—soon after his 1979 visit—he created a painting for our regiment, which we proudly displayed in our officers’ mess. The painting was of a horse on a canvas measuring 4 ft by 3 ft, and it was very impressive, as his horses have always been very popular. Unfortunately, regular artists’ paint was not available, and the paint that we used was sourced from ordinary suppliers. As a result, the paint never dried up and kept trickling down the surface, which spoiled the painting. When I came on leave to Delhi, I mentioned to Husain Saab what had happened. He said, ‘Let’s get it over here and see what we can do.’ That is how the painting arrived in Delhi, also in 1979. After one look at the painting, Husain picked up a large brush with white paint, and in no time, the painting had disappeared. He said it was easier to make a new painting than try to restore the spoiled one. This did not happen because I was scheduled to be posted out, and I mentioned to Husain that I would be leaving my unit shortly. He then presented me with a lithograph of a painting he had commissioned in New York. Of his famous Ramayana series, it was signed and dated, making it a valuable possession. I handed it to my successor (SRRIAIYENGAR), who got it framed, and it was displayed in the CO’s (Commanding Officer) office. A few years later, I met an officer from my regiment and asked him about Husain’s painting. His answer was that there was no painting of Husain in the Regiment. ‘Are you sure?’ I asked. He replied, ‘Sir, I have been the adjutant of the regiment and walked in at least 10 times every day to the CO’s office. If there were any such paintings as you described, I should have known. Perhaps someone took a liking to the painting and carried it along with him as a souvenir.’
Several intriguing incidents happened in Husain Sb’s company. Once we had gone to pick him up from the airport in Delhi. At that time, the airport was only a single terminal, from which all the international and domestic flights operated. The parking was some distance away across the road. When the flight arrival was announced, I left the car with Rashda sitting inside. I told her that in case a traffic cop comes, she should tell him that we have come to take a very elderly person who cannot walk the long distance to the parking lot. When I came back, I found the car front jacked up with her sitting coolly inside. I pleaded with the cop, who directed me to the traffic inspector, who was coming in our direction. I repeated my plea to him. He looked inside & instantly recognised MFH. “Hey, this is our Husain Saab.” “Hatao bhai hatao,” he said, pointing to the jack, and the cops promptly removed it. He then inquired about Husain Saab’s good health and waved us off. His popularity extended to everyone, regardless of their profession. Another incident in Mumbai: shortly after he became a Member of Parliament (Rajya Sabha), a police officer stopped him as he entered a lane. He fumbled in his pocket to take out his ID, thinking that the cop did not know him. Before he could do that, the cop leaned forward and said gently, “Husain Saab, Aap No entry lane mein aa gaye hain.” He then guided us out of the area. This display shows the popularity & love of the people for the great man.
It’s always fascinating to watch Husain Saab paint. The speed at which he painted was amazing. It seemed that the image he wanted to paint was already formed in his mind, and he was simply acting as a printer, transferring that image onto the canvas or any medium he had chosen.
One day, Husain Sb came from Mumbai and said he was going to Australia but had no visa. This took place shortly after he became well-known and underscores the connections he had developed by that stage. He did not know anyone in the Australian Embassy. I said, ‘Husain Saab, you need not know them, but they should know you!’ We went to the Embassy around the early 1980s. At the entrance, a notice was posted stating that all visa applications must be submitted at the designated VFS, and the embassy would not accept any visa applications directly. India Today had just published an article on Husain Saab with his full picture on the front page. I gave the magazine to the security guard and told him to go inside and tell them that the person in the picture had come to see them. He went inside, and promptly someone came and escorted us in. They asked Husain how they could help him. When Husain expressed his desire to visit Australia, they took out a passport form, detached the medical inspection part, and gave it to Husain Saab to get it completed while they processed his visa application. Dr. Khosla, his close friend, lived in Jor Bagh, and within 30 minutes or so, we were back at the Embassy to find that an impromptu tea party was organised in Husain’s honour to enable the embassy staff to meet the great painter.
Husain Saab was going to Australia to meet Maria, who decades earlier was his interpreter at an exhibition held in Prague. They had become good friends. Maria was a very poor girl and lived in a nunnery attached to a church nearby. Maria was quite fascinated by the way Husain painted, watching in admiration. She had liked the paintings very much and said she wished she had money to buy all of them. “They are yours now; take them,” Husain said. Maria thus became the owner of around 25-30 odd Husain paintings!
Maria had married a professor and moved to Australia. Decades had passed since she had last met Husain. Her husband had retired, and after a few years, he had passed away. She had a son who lived separately. Husain had forgotten about the paintings, but not Maria. And she had preserved all of them very well. She expressed a desire for Husain to take them back if he wanted to. The paintings thus came back from Australia after an exile of forty years and are now in the proud possession of an Indian businessman who lives in London. The paintings are collectively known as the ‘Maria Collection.’
One of the many famous paintings that Husain created, titled “Zameen,” held special significance for him. It was made under the watchful eyes of his father in Badar Bagh Chawl, Mumbai, where he used to live. That was the only time his father ever visited him from Indore. After the Mumbai trip, he fell ill and ultimately passed away. The painting was huge and could not fit in his small room. So, two sides of the wall in the room were used to gain the desired length. The canvas was folded at the right angle, with the surplus portion going to the other wall. The painting was exhibited in the NGMA (National Gallery of Modern Art, Delhi). After the exhibition was over, Husain got a letter saying that the gallery wanted to buy the painting, and he was asked to quote the price. He first wrote Rs. 600/-, which he thought was an appropriate price for the painting. He thought for a while, as he was emotionally attached to the painting and did not want to sell. Therefore, he added another zero to the price, making it 6000. He thought that by setting a high price, the gallery would lose interest, but he would be able to get the painting back. However, that did not happen, and he promptly received the cheque for it in the return post.
Husain’s foray into filmmaking had an interesting beginning. Indira Gandhi had just become the Minister of Information and Broadcasting, and the government used to allocate significant funds for the films produced by the I&B Ministry. Year after year, the same people were involved in this task. Mrs. Gandhi wanted some novelty introduced to the subjects on which the film should be made, and Husain was thus summoned to the Ministry. Asked to submit the story and synopsis for the film, he said there is no script. Would it be a colour film? The answer was no; the film would be black and white. What staff would be required for the project? Again, the answer was not definite. In short, he was the director, producer, and cameraman. For around 30-45 days, he was lost in the deserts of Rajasthan. No one knew where or what he was doing. When he finally came back to Delhi and showed the film to the concerned officials, they were dismayed by the effort and the waste of public funds. The film was titled “India Through The Eyes Of A Painter.”
Believing that the officials’ reaction indicated the film would not succeed, Husain flew to New York and showed the film to the Museum officials through his friend Chester Herwitz. That was the era when the National Geographic had not featured any article on India. One was generally ignorant of how people in a remote and obscure village in the deserts of Rajasthan lived their lives. The museum liked the film very much and wanted to buy it. The Indian government received a request, prompting Ministry officials to take action.perts once again reviewed the film and found it to be a truly commendable effort. A reluctant entry was thus made into the Berlin Film Festival, where it bagged the famous Golden Bear award. The Ministry had no option but to acknowledge the fact that Husain had indeed made a very good film. A function was then organized to commemorate the event, and the very officials who had previously ridiculed Husain for his unconventional ideas were now at the forefront to receive the accolades.
Husain Saab passed away on 11 June 2011 in London. He believed in rebirth. Perhaps another legendary painter was born somewhere on this planet, the day Husain Saab passed away. That person should be 14-15 years old now. It will be an interesting subject for study by art scholars and historians if they can connect the two legends together. Only time will tell if that happens.