Raza@100: The boy from Mandla in MP and the man in his studio in Paris

I went to France for the first time in 1997. Raza had invited me, rather his wife Janine had. I was returning from America. I was invited by the Tawson University in Maryland for three months. I was to speak about contemporary Indian art and to curate an exhibition of Indian artists for them. Frankly, I was not very excited about this France visit after being disenchanted by the tiresome false shine of America. I wanted to reach home at the earliest. That I would get a window to spend 10 days with Raza sahab was the only attraction I had, which was taking me in a cab after landing at the Paris airport to his home. After getting down at Rue de Charonne, I looked at that old building. I could see him smiling and waving a hand from the window. I was surprised that he was up and ready so early in the morning and was waiting for me. The building he lived in was used as a stopover lodge for the Christian nuns in the 16th century.

It used to have separate rooms for residents, where nuns used to stay. Raza sahab used to live on first floor. It had seen repairs many times, without much altering of the original shape and form. The vintage feel was spread all over the stairs and walls and windows. The wooden stairs used to creak while stepping on them.

Just after opening the doors, he hugged me. I wished him and we entered the house. Janine was inside. My happiness knew no bounds when I saw my painting hanging on the opposite wall. I remember Raza sahab bought this painting from a Delhi exhibition. He also bought two more works which were on paper. The air of formality had suddenly disappeared. The heaviness I was carrying from America had gone. Janine made some coffee for us and called us in. We sat across the table by the window in their bedroom, which was attached to kitchen. Janine brought the coffee on table. She sat on the bed resting on pillows. We began having coffee, while Raza was briefly inquiring about my America trip. Then he took me to a nearby house, where my stay was arranged. Raza told me that he brought one room first, then the second, then the third, and turned it into home. It has a bedroom and kitchen. Then there is a middle room, where the dining table is placed. The third is a guest room, which is also Raza’s studio. In between, there is a house of two rooms, which was for Janine’s parents. After they died, Janine uses it as her studio. Her etching machine was kept there. On one wall, there were many paintings resting. Most of them were bought by Raza, mostly of Indian artists. Some were his own works and Janine’s, too. Raza was excited to show me those works. In that lot, there were works of Rajendra Dhawan, Prabhakar Kolte, Satish Panchal, Yogendra Tripathi, two of mine, Seema Guraiya, Jogen Choudhury, Taiyab Mehta, Zarina Hashmi, Krishna Reddy and some unknown ones. Raza had also forgotten their names.

When I reached back, Raza was working in his studio and Janine was in kitchen. I sat down and kept watching him work. I kept inspecting the studio. There were two big racks full of books. Underneath there was an open space with many prints kept there. Opposite that there was an almirah, without covers. There were many small and tiny statuettes kept there. Ganesha, Bal-Gopal, Krishna, Shiv ling, Jesus Christ on the cross, a kalash, a picture of his guru Mohan Kulkarni, a picture of Jesus, fresh flowers, two coconuts, different types of partially burnt candles, a small carved wood structure of Mary and child Jesus, books of Hinduism, Christianity, Islam, Geeta Pravachan, Bible, Quran, Ram Charit Manas, an anthology of Tulsidas’s dohas (couplets), some pens, some more books, some old papers, an old picture in a small frame, and some catalogues were all placed there. There were small bottles which had earth (Mitti) from different places (Mandla, Wardha, Damoh, Shanti Niketan), a picture of his mother, another of his teacher, one big conch shell, a statuette of Hanuman, some very small statuettes, many rosaries hanging from the shelf.

Raza in his studioThis almirah was full of memorabilia, from the time and places he lived, and he had very delicately collected and kept them there. The wall next to this shelf had a wooden statue hanging on it. One the left hand side door, there was this picture of Amrita Sher-Gil in a poster of Indian exhibition in Paris. Next to that was a beautifully framed page of miniature work. Below that was a collage of Janine. And a small painting of Raza. The studio was full of pictorial delights and tastefully arranged. Resting on the wall was a freshly made big painting by Raza. Raza was absorbed in his work. I was looking at the pictures in the studio. One rack on the side was full of papers, files, fax machine, film cassettes, film rolls, camera, tripod, lamps and loads of other stuff, which couldn’t clearly be identified. Just then Janine came and whispered something to Raza. He washed the brush he was holding in the utensil and got up from his easel. Then he said, let us go, the driver is here.

Both of us came down. The car was parked there. Raza nodded to get inside. Raza said something to the driver and it started moving. Raza told me, ‘Since you have come here for the first time, let me show you some bits of the city. Let us see some parts. Then you will get to know.’ That day first we drove to École des Beaux-Arts (National School of Arts), where he was a student. Then we went to museums of Louvre and Musée d’Orsay, then to street of  Champs-Élysées and then to hill and art district of Montmartre. I was watching the city as the car kept moving. Raza Sahab kept telling me about each place. You must come here, we will come here tomorrow, look at that sculpture of Rodin. We remained in the moving car. We didn’t stop anywhere, or got down to see anything and Raza kept talking about coming tomorrow or later. He wanted me to get a sense and feel of the city so that I do not have to feel like an outsider here. Finally, at a restaurant in Montmartre we got down, when he said let us eat something here. ‘I used to live here earlier,’ he said. This is where Picasso, Chagall and many other great painters had their studios. We sat down around a table outside restaurant. I found it strange in Paris that everyone sitting outside the restaurants was facing the street. Raza sahab asked me, ‘Would you like to sit outside or inside?’ I was liking the air outside, so we kept sitting there. In a while, a waiter came and placed two beers before us. He was very busy and had no time to listen to us. He came to take the order much later. Raza sahab offered me a cigarette and lit one for himself. Raza sahab kept talking. He kept telling me about things and I kept asking while listening to him. We were at ease and there was no hurry to finish eating food and then rushing to see more things. We kept smoking our cigarettes and sipping our beer. Then the food was served. We had food and then slightly high, sat in the car. Raza said something to the driver and the car started moving. Through the day we saw all the important places in Paris, that included the Notre Dame, the Pompidou Centre, the Palace of Versailles, Picasso Museum, Dali Museum, Paris Museum of Modern Art, Palais de Tokyo, Grand Palace, the Moulin Rouge, Rue de Rivoli and the Opéra Bastille. We returned home in the evening around 7 pm.

I went to my room. Raza sahab had asked me to come at 9 pm. I kept turning the pages of the books lying there. Most of them were in French. Some books were of literature, some architecture, some fine arts, history, about various countries along with some catalogues were there. I lost sense of time and then suddenly I heard someone knocking at the door. I heard Raza Sahab calling my name and the doorbell rang. I opened the door. He looked worried and asked with concern, “Did you go to sleep? It is almost 10 pm, I got worried since you didn’t come.’