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I'll be going, sir.
I wish you'd stayed to complete your degree.
I know, but I don't have the money.
Just don't give up your writing.
Your stories for the college magazine
about village life were very -
Don't laugh!
It can become a vocation.
Of course, not everybody becomes a Sarat Chandra.
- Our demands - - Must be met!
Good-bye, sir.
Long live the revolution!
SATYAJIT RAY PRODUCTIONS Presents
APUR SANSAR (THE WORLD OF APU)
Original Story by BIBHUTIBHUSAN BANERJEE
Starring
SOUMITRA CHATTERJEE SHARMILA TAGORE
ALOK CHAKRAVARTI SWAPAN MUKHERJEE
DHIRESH MAJUMDAR
SEFALIKA DEVI
DHIREN GHOSH
Cinematography by SUBRATA MITRA
Art Direction by BANSI CHANDRAGUPTA
Sound by DURGADAS MITRA
Edited by DULAL DUTTA
Production Manager ANIL CHOUDHURY
Processing by INDIA FILM LABORATORIES
Sound Recorded on RCA and STANCIL-HOFFMAN Systems
Coproduced by AMIYANATH MUKHERJEE
Distributed by CHHAYABANI PRIVATE LTD.
Music by RAVI SHANKAR
Produced, Written, and Directed by SATYAJIT RAY
Who's there?
Good morning.
Good morning. Sit down.
Is there any point in sitting down?
At least it will rest your legs
after all those stairs.
I didn't climb the stairs so I could rest my legs.
We both know very well
why I'm here.
I'm going to ask you a simple and direct question,
and I'd like a simple and direct answer.
Go ahead.
You know today's date?
The tenth.
How many months' rent do you owe?
Three.
So 21 rupees.
Will you pay now while I rest my legs, or must I return later?
That's three questions, not one.
That's not fair.
A lot of things aren't fair, young man.
You seem to think I should house you for nothing.
Is that fair?
Is it fair to use up my electricity in the daytime?
You're an educated man.
You have pictures of great men on the wall.
But when it comes to the rent, you hem and haw?
That's a sign of greatness too, you know.
I can't win a battle of words with you, Apu-babu.
I could string together a few choice words too,
but they wouldn't be fit for your young ears.
In any case, I'll be back this evening.
Have the money ready
or I look for a new lodger.
- Simple and direct. - Simple and direct.
Excuse me.
Step inside.
We're both "Mr. Ray."
Hence the confusion.
"We are pleased to accept
your short story 'A Man of the Soil'
for publication in the next issue of Sahityik."
Not bad news, I hope.
Well, good-bye.
Tell me, why don't you ever get mail?
Does no one write to you? Not even a girlfriend?
It would be nice to open a love letter by mistake.
Really? Just as well.
Put it off as long as you can.
Don't get embroiled in "matrimonetary" complications.
I speak from experience. - Good-bye.
HARIMATI ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
- One, two, three. - What do you want?
You advertised in the paper for a teacher.
Qualifications?
- Intermediate degree. - We want a matriculation degree.
But that comes before intermediate!
What did the ad say?
Well, it did specify matriculation.
Then why harp on intermediate?
What's the point?
Would you work for ten rupees a month? Interm-idiot!
Twelve. Your turn.
Four, six, eight, ten, twelve.
What do you want?
I understand you're hiring for your pharmaceutical plant.
I have a... matriculation degree.
Have a seat.
Any experience in labeling?
I can learn.
Can't I?
All right. Go through that door
and head straight back.
Labeling is on the right. Go have a look first.
- Go have a look? - Go on.
What's this?
Pulu?
- You're a fine friend. - Why?
Left student housing without a word!
I've been looking for you since 4:00.
- How was I to know you'd - - Quiet!
No one knew where you'd gone.
I went to Anil's. He'd gone to a game.
I finally got your address from your private students.
Took another half hour to find this place!
You laugh? You should be ashamed!
- You've gotten fat. - I was fat three hours ago.
- How about some tea? - Where?
- A restaurant. - Is it far?
Around the corner.
All right.
But we have tickets to see A Widow's Fast.
Give me a minute.
Why have you been hiding out up here?
You making counterfeit money? - I wish I could.
An oil cooker! Doing your own cooking?
Yeah. I'll cook for you sometime.
Rice and boiled potatoes.
What about that railway job?
I was sure you'd gotten it.
There was a strike on. They were hiring strike-breakers.
I didn't know.
- So you've been unemployed? - I do some tutoring.
Turning dullards into prodigies. - What's it pay?
Fifteen rupees a month.
- Didn't you learn to type? - Yeah, in case of emergency.
Good. I'll get you a job when we get back.
I know of a firm. - Get back? From where?
My cousin's getting married on Monday.
You have to come.
- Where? - Just for a few days.
- But where? - Khulna.
Khulna? Are you crazy?
You'll love it there.
A rustic village.
Boats floating down the river.
Endless fields of grass and rice.
Paths winding through bamboo groves
and mango orchards. What do you say?
And trees full of birds:
And at nightfall, crickets and fireflies,
jackals, and kerosene lamps.
No electricity!
Tempting? Have I hit a weak spot?
So you'll come, right?
"Take me back into thy lap, O Mother Earth.
Take back thy child and swathe him in thine ample sari.
Let me be one with thy soil and spread myself
far and wide, like the joys of spring.
Let me burst open the heart's narrow cage,
break down the stone walls of self
and the dark and cheerless prison of the mind,
rushing forth, radiating, shivering -"
Police!
Who's there?
It is I, Mainak, son of the Himalayas,
hiding my wings in the sea.
What's come over you?
You sound like Nimchand in the play we saw - only sober!
- Know what? - What?
- I'm not taking that job. - What job?
- The one you mentioned. - You taking to the stage?
- Don't be silly. - Then why?
Why should I be a clerk?
There's no reason.
I'm a free man - no ties, no responsibilities,
no one to worry about. Why be a clerk?
You can't keep pawning books to pay the rent!
- Things will improve. - With no income?
Those with genuine talent -
Don't need to earn a living?
Apurba Kumar Ray.
Laugh if you like. Just wait and see.
Are you writing anything? Any new poems?
You're such a philistine.
A philistine?
Engineering is all you know.
You'll go abroad and get your degree,
then settle down here with a nice fat salary. Bah!
- So I'm a philistine? - That's right.
Who made you read A Widow's Fast?
You were a country bumpkin... - Was it you?
Who'd break out in a sweat crossing the street in the big city!
You remember who read your first short story
and what he said about it?
Sorry's too easy! - Don't get so worked up.
I'm just excited tonight, that's all.
I've had my first good meal in months, thanks to you.
So are you writing anything?
What are you writing?
A wonderful novel.
And you've kept it mum all this time?
- You know a good publisher? - All in good time.
Listen to this:
A young boy.
A young boy.
All right.
A village boy.
Poor...
but sensitive.
His father's a priest.
The father dies.
The boy comes to the city.
He doesn't want to be a priest. He'll study. He's ambitious.
He studies.
Through his education and struggles,
we watch as he sheds
his old superstitions and fixed views.
He questions everything and takes nothing on trust.
Yet he has imagination and sensitivity.
Little things move him and bring him joy.
Perhaps he has greatness in him,
the ability to create, but -
- He doesn't make it. - That's right.
But it doesn't end there. It's not a tragedy.
He does nothing great. He remains poor, in want.
But he never turns away from life.
He doesn't run away. He wants to live.
He says living itself brings fulfillment and joy.
- What's that mean? - This is autobiography.
Partly, but a lot is fiction.
There are fictional characters,
a plot, a love interest -
Love?
What do you know about love?
You've never been within ten yards of a girl!
You have any experience of love? - What if I don't?
Oh, great! You'll just make it up?
- You have to experience everything? - Absolutely!
Is imagination worth nothing?
Not with love!
- Who says so? - I do!
Rubbish! If a man has talent...
"How much further wilt thou lead me, O fair one?
Tell me which shore thy golden boat will touch.
Whatever I ask thee, O thou from distant lands,
thou only smilest in thine own sweet way,
and I can never know what is in thy mind.
Silently thou liftest a finger
and pointest to the wild, trackless sea
as, far to the west, the sun sinks in the sky.
What lies there? What do we go to seek?
Tell me, I pray thee, O stranger fair,
where, at the edge of evening, glows the day -"
What?
- Give me your hand. - You finished?
Well? - Your hand, idiot!
Wonderful! Really wonderful!
Look who's here!
It's Pulu - with company!
I hope your journey wasn't too unpleasant.
After all, you're city people. We're just country folk.
My youngest son, Murari.
He's in the intermediate class at Daulatpur College.
Take his luggage.
Harey, come here!
How are you, my child?
My aunt.
Here I had a fine match for your daughter,
but you looked elsewhere.
Where have I seen that face before?
Lmpossible. He's never been here before.
No, I know that face very well.
Oh, I know!
I've seen it many times in a painting of the gods!
Lord Krishna incarnate,
complete with flute.
Bless you, my son.
A long life to you.
The groom!
Binu, my son, come out now.
What's wrong? Isn't he well?
He's been under the hot sun all afternoon.
- I'll get some water. - Please do.
What's going on?
I think he's probably ill
from the long journey
and fasting all day.
Some water and a fan -
Bring water and a fan!
Stop crowding him!
Who are you giving her away to?
What do you mean?
The groom is mad!
Who told you that?
He's perfectly sane. It's just the journey in this heat -
I won't allow this wedding to take place!
Are you mad? The auspicious hour is passing.
Leave this room or I'll kill myself!
You've lost your senses!
I said leave!
Wife...
if the auspicious hour passes, my daughter will never marry.
She won't open.
What a calamity!
Isn't there another auspicious hour at 10:00 p. M?
I don't know.
I can't think clearly.
I'm ruined!
What a calamity!
What?
- Did I miss it? - It's not happening.
- What? - There'll be no wedding.
What happened?
The groom is mad.
Listen to me.
Apu, everything depends on you now.
On me?
Are you joking?
What is all this?
Only you can save us. You know the custom here.
In the morning the girl will be unfit for marriage.
What can I do?
Where could we find a more suitable choice tonight?
So if you'd -
This is what you came to tell me?
Listen.
What is this? Some kind of play or novel?
You'd stick me in the groom's seat just like that?
Are you still in the Dark Ages?
- Will you calm down and listen? - No.
I won't listen to this lunacy. It's a waste of time.
Everything depends on you.
Let's go, Majumdar-babu.
If I'd known this would happen, I'd never have come.
Am I not getting married?
- What? - I need to talk to you.
What?
- Can you really get me that job? - Why?
I don't have a good shirt...
and I haven't even shaved.
Uncle!
The curse turned into a blessing.
Your daughter hasn't worshipped Shiva in vain.
And what a blessing!
The moment I saw him,
I felt he was nearer to me than my own kin.
Pulu has brought many friends here,
but none has ever cast such a spell.
O my friend
Don't go down to the river to fill your pitcher
For if the handsome Krishna finds you
He won't let you go
O my friend
Had I known, dearest friend
That you'd abandon me
I'd have kept you
Tied to my sari...
Aparna.
There are a few things I have to tell you.
I've had no chance the last two days.
Just how much do you know about me?
Has Pulu said anything?
Yes.
What did he say?
That you have no one.
That's right.
My father died when I was ten.
Mother died seven years later.
I had an older sister too.
What else did he tell you?
That you write well.
He said that, did he? Good old Pulu.
Tell me: Do you know how to read?
Yes. Bengali.
I'm writing a novel in Bengali.
- I know. - You know that too?
What else did he say?
Nothing.
Then he didn't tell you much.
Not what really matters.
You don't even know whom you've married.
Imagine, newlyweds spending their third night in her home!
I have no house of my own, nothing.
No home, no hearth, no income.
No future.
What kind of life am I offering you?
And the way you've been brought up -
this spacious house, servants,
beautiful rooms.
This marriage was forced on me.
I was very much against it.
But...
the request was made in such a way
that I felt I'd be doing something noble.
Everything got all confused.
Well?
Why don't you say something?
I can't decide anything until I know what you think.
Aparna...
will you be able to endure being poor?
Can you live...
with a poor man like me for a husband?
Yes.
You mean it?
Why not?
Then I'll take you away with me.
Your father may object, but I won't listen.
Sure you won't object? - I don't know.
- What will they think? - Who?
My neighbors.
I'm invited to a wedding...
and I come home with the bride!
Bring the luggage down. I'll be back.
Come in.
My room.
Give me that.
Sit down. I'll be right back.
You must be very sad.
Are you sure?
Come. Let's go downstairs.
Is that so?
Make way. Stop crowding.
Let me see.
Oh, my!
Out of the way!
Let them come down!
What are you staring at? Am I new here?
"Just one - after a meal. You promised."
Let me by.
Do you lament your decision?
Do I what? I don't understand such difficult words.
You understand "regret"?
Yes.
- Do you regret it? - Regret what?
- I have to explain that too? - Yes.
You regret missing out on a rich husband?
You're laughing? - No, I'm crying.
I'm sure you regret it. You just won't tell me.
Of course.
I could have sat back and relaxed.
I'm going out.
- Where? - To find you a maid.
Wait.
Don't be childish. Come back.
Let me by.
Who'll pay the maid's wages?
I'll do more tutoring.
Then send me back to my parents.
Why?
You get home late as it is
tutoring one student after work.
If you take on another - - What else can I do?
Shall I tell you?
Give up the student you have now.
Then what?
Then my poor husband will come home early...
and I'll have nothing more to lament.
Go on.
O Lord Vishnu...
God of fire, use your powers to shatter his meditation!
What's wrong?
Are you mad?
Or sad? Or just in a huff?
- Mad. - Why?
Can't I ride in a bus?
Buses are so crowded. Here we can be alone.
But it costs so much.
- Just seven annas. - That's a lot.
You'll be leaving for your parents' soon.
My expenses will be cut in half.
Just for two months.
Is that so short?
What about the extra expenses when we come back?
Ah, yes.
You know...
I didn't want to let you go...
but your mother insisted, and I thought
at a time like this you'd rather -
It'll be a relief for you too. No one to bother you for two months.
Don't say that.
But I will get some work done on my novel.
I haven't written a line
since we were married.
Is that my fault?
It's to your credit.
You know how much my novel means to me.
You mean much more. - Really?
- I'll dedicate it to you. - You'll what?
I know what "wife" means.
No, you don't. But I do.
I do too.
What?
The matches.
Tell me...
what's that in your eyes?
Kohl.
Will you come for the puja festival?
I hope to. Wire me when you arrive.
Letters take too long. Go on now.
- Will you come? - Have I ever broken a promise?
Write me twice a week.
- Will you write too? - Not unless you do.
Write to my office, or Mr. Ray will open your letters.
Listen - Oh, I'm forgetting everything!
Pintu's mother is making pudding for you.
And we owe the grocer money.
I left some jewelry behind. Keep it safe, will you?
Please take care of yourself.
My friend.
You'll see her in a few days, so why worry?
I'm not worrying.
I wish I knew your secret.
How to be happy and married in these hard times
on a clerk's 45 rupees a month.
How do you know I'm happy?
I know.
I don't know what your wife is like,
but mine -
I mean, I like them a little feisty.
I like them to be a little quarrelsome,
a little saucy.
Know what I mean?
I like them a bit mischievous and smart.
It adds spice to a marriage.
My wife's just the opposite. - Really?
Never quarrels.
Nothing for dinner? She won't say a word.
Nothing to wear? She won't complain.
Say right, she goes right. Say left, she goes left.
Utterly bland and insipid.
And to top it all off...
You promised to come on the eighth day of the festival.
I'll be waiting.
If you don't come, I'll never ever speak to you again.
You're a big liar.
You only wrote me seven letters last month.
It should have been eight.
You really don't keep your promises.
I've been counting the days, and if you don't come -
Let's go, my friend. Come on.
And I feel jealous of that girl next door.
You know why?
She sees you morning and evening, and I don't.
It's quite unfair.
Do keep that window shut.
What else is there to write? That's all for now.
I've misspelled lots of words.
I know you'll laugh. Go ahead.
I'm no novelist -
just good enough for a letter.
Take good care of yourself.
I'm well, but my heart is sick. It will heal when you come.
If you don't...
I'll never speak to you ever ever again...
- How are things? - Fine, thanks.
- And the family? - Just fine.
What is it?
Murari?
What is it?
Aparna...
What's happened to her?
In childbirth...
What?
She told me just the other day,
"Ma'am, I'm leaving him in your care.
He's so absent-minded and gets lost in his writing.
He might forget to eat at night."
Such gentle ways she had,
and so good-natured.
She suddenly appeared and just as suddenly -
Well, it's a good thing the child was saved.
Everyone has their sorrow and suffering, my son.
But a man mustn't break down like this.
Besides, you're still young.
"While Krishna has his knot of hair and his flute,
there'll be women to serve him."
You could marry ten times over.
You have nothing to worry about.
"Dear Pulu, you must have heard the news by now.
I hear you're going abroad. I wish you success.
I'm going away too.
I don't know where I'm going, but I do know why.
I want to be free.
I'm taking my manuscript with me.
I'll send it to you if I finish it.
You may publish it if you see fit.
Yours, Apu"
Oh!
What did you drop there?
All my food's ruined!
I'll show you! Stealing at your age, eh?
Ouch!
Almost bit my arm off, the little beast!
Want me to tell the master? Know what will happen?
You know what will happen? - You'll tell Grandfather?
A good thrashing will teach you a lesson!
He'll beat you up.
Who'll beat me up?
My father. He lives in Calcutta.
Your father lives in Calcutta! So what?
Should I tremble in fear?
He lives in Calcutta!
We haven't seen his pigtail these last five years!
Your father indeed!
Beat me up, will he?
Do fathers have pigtails?
In five years
he hasn't shown up even once to see his own son.
Have you ever heard of such a thing?
Thinks he's done his duty
by sending a money order now and then.
Do you know where he is?
I was dead set against the marriage.
It was you and your aunt
who took my daughter and -
- Do you know where Apu is? - What good would it do?
Please tell me.
In Nagpur or somewhere, working in a coal mine,
the good-for-nothing vagabond.
And the boy's just like him,
always running around and getting into mischief.
The other day he broke my marble tumbler.
When your aunt was alive she could manage him,
but now, with my failing health -
Do you have Apu's address?
Whatever's on his letter.
But what good is that?
Think you can bring him back?
He hasn't even come back for his own child,
the heartless brute!
You?
When did you get back?
I went looking for you at my uncle's place.
What are you doing here?
Working.
Since when?
About a year.
All the way out here?
- I didn't come here for a job. - Then why?
I just ended up here as I wandered around.
And?
I had to fill my belly.
And have you?
More or less.
How's everything else? How's the writing?
How's the novel coming?
I threw it away.
What? Why?
What's the use?
Come on.
You planning to stay here?
- No. - Then what?
I'm thinking of going away. I'm not happy here.
Where would you go?
Maybe abroad.
I'm saving up.
By yourself?
- Who else is there? - Kajal.
- Who? - Kajal.
Your son.
So that's his name, is it?
Listen to me.
What?
Go back home.
Why?
The boy needs someone to look after him.
He has no one to do that.
There's such a thing as a father's duty,
or did you throw that away too?
Who says I don't do my duty?
I send money, don't I?
- Is that it? - I can't do any more.
What are you saying?
Have you no feelings for your own son?
No.
How can I feel anything for him?
I've never even seen him.
To me he's unreal, imaginary.
For me he doesn't exist.
You've lost your senses.
I've done my duty.
Do as you see fit.
Good-bye.
- What? - Wait.
My train leaves at 7:00.
Come here.
What?
Do something for the boy. Put him in a boarding school.
- You can do that yourself. - No.
Why not?
- I just can't. - Why?
That's what I don't get.
There's one thing I can never forget.
It's because Kajal is alive...
that Aparna isn't.
I've sent money three times. I'll send more if necessary.
I can't do any more.
I can't take any more responsibility for him.
I admit it:
I feel no affection for him.
If you think he's not being looked after properly...
make other arrangements...
and I'll cover the cost.
Shall I give you money now? - There's no point.
I start a new job Monday.
I can't do anything right now.
I'm going.
Who is it?
Whom do you wish to see?
It's me - Apu.
Have you come to take him away?
I've made arrangements to leave him in my home village.
I'm going away.
He's lying down upstairs.
He's had a fever,
but he's better today.
I'm your father.
Come here!
No, don't!
What are you doing?
You'll kill him.
Will you be my friend?
I tell very good stories.
Stories about ghosts...
demons...
kings and queens...
princes and winged horses.
Want to hear them?
I'll leave this jewelry with you
in case he has to be sent to a boarding school.
I'll speak to Pulu again,
but you'll have to bear with Kajal a few more days.
Good-bye.
You're his father.
Can't you force him to go with you?
He's just a child. Make him go with you!
No, I can't do that.
You can't do anything!
I knew it all along.
What is it? You want to say something?
Where are you going?
You want to come along?
Are you going to Calcutta?
If I am, will you come?
Would you take me to my father?
Of course.
Will he be mad at me?
Why should he be?
He won't go away and leave me?
Never.
Who are you?
I'm your...
friend.
Will you come with me?
Come on.
Kajal, come on!
Grandpa will scold me.
He won't know.
I won't tell him. Come on!
THE END
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