In the autumn of 1974, a young adman decided to step away from his cushy job to document the heart-wrenching starvation crisis that was devastating Bengal. Hungry Autumn became award-winning director Gautam Ghosh’s first film. It gave unparalleled visibility to the forgotten 1974 famine in the state and questioned the success of modern agriculture and industry.
The film became one of the first Indian documentaries to face censorship as well.
Ghosh puts it across in a pithy line and says, “It was a time of despair.”
A still from ‘Hungry Autumn’.
The film was originally shot during the autumn season in Bengal, in the months of October, November, and December. On the 50th anniversary of this documentary, The Wire revisited the locations where it was primarily filmed to observe and document the changes that have taken place over these five decades.
Saltora block in Bankura district falls under the Rarh or semi-arid region of West Bengal which is prone to water scarcity. Most of the local residents still depend on agriculture, despite the land’s limited fertility. This year, although there were sporadic drizzles in August and September, they arrived too late for the farmers, leaving Saltora’s soil even drier than usual. With the groundwater level dropping, the tube wells in the area have now run dry, forcing villages to rely on traditional wells for water. Access to treated piped water supply remains a distant dream.
Durga Puja, the largest festival in the state, is less than a month away. While the number of Durga Puja celebrations and the grandeur associated with them have been steadily increasing across the state due to active government promotion, the festivities here remain subdued. Despite the government providing Rs 70,000 to Puja committees and subsidised electricity, celebrations in Saltora are limited to just three.
“If people don’t have money, even religion or festivals lose their splendour. Saltora is a testament to that,” said Jiban Mondal, a local and unemployed youth.
Saltora knows poverty. There is not a single large departmental store. The nearest cinema hall is 20 kilometres away. The roads are worn out.
“It seems like hunger is making a comeback in Saltora from all directions. This is Puja time, but the market is quiet. People are short of money, and even agriculture is facing difficulties,” said Manoj Mondal. Manoj had been working at one of the several unauthorised stone quarries that have sprung up in and around Saltora over the past few years. While the work is hazardous, it pays well. However, allegations of illegal mining often leads to the closure of these quarries, worsening the locals’ hardship.
Sreedhar Barui, a community elder, remembers the hardships of 1974. “Neither the Left nor the Trinamool Congress government managed to resolve our water scarcity issue,” he added.
A report on the Anandabazar Patrika, noting the situation of hunger in Bengal of the 1970s.
Filmmaker Ghosh, too, remembers it well.
“It was a time of despair. People were moving in large numbers from villages to cities, their pleas for sustenance rang in the air. In the villages, community kitchens were a lifeline. They coexisted with the sombre sight of lifeless bodies. Yet, in the cities, the markets were brimming with fish and vegetables. We tried to uncover the reason behind this stark contrast,” he said.
Saltora is rich in mineral resources, including coal, copper, gas, quartzite, and granite, yet no substantial efforts have been made to tap into these abundant resources. The local Panchayat office is the busiest place in the area, where people often troop to, to access various government incentive schemes. Behind the office stands Biharinath Hill, named after the local deity associated with nature and hills, seemingly bearing witness to the challenges faced by the community.
The years between 1967 and 1974 were cruel for Saltora and are part of public memory.
Nazibur Rahman, a resident of the area, recounted something similar to what Ghosh remembered, “The villagers were trapped between oppressive landlords and exploitative moneylenders. We had to mortgage valuable possessions, from utensils to land, just to survive. By 1972, most common people were left with nothing. Moreover, the absence of rainfall meant there was no way to make a living through agriculture. Starvation became a grim reality. Many people succumbed to hunger. Langar kitchens were set up, and we all used to stand in line to receive our portion of khichuri from these communal kitchens.”
Muralidhar Pramanik, a volunteer at one of these communal kitchens, recalled, “Missionaries ran those kitchens, and we, the young men from the village, worked there to prepare khichdi. It was a tough time. Government-run community kitchens were a bit far, and they were often overcrowded. Desperate, people travelled from one village to another just to get food. Many months passed with people eating khichuri as their only meal. I witnessed people lying dead on the streets. It’s been almost 50 years, but I can’t forget those days.”
Ghosh notes that this picture is not as far back in the past as the village would have liked.
“Even now, after fifty years, the memories of the film from the past resonate. Part of the village has gained economic prosperity, but the backward classes still struggle in the darkness. Their condition doesn’t make it to the news unless some disaster or tragedy strikes, or if they turn to extremism,” said Ghosh.
Gautam Ghosh. Photo: Joydeep Sarkar/The Wire
In the 1970s, Ghosh had spent his savings to buy a hand-held Pillard camera for Rs 2,500 and taken off for Bankura district. He saw and showed the struggles of individuals teetering on the fringes of society, a topic he would dwell on further in his feature films.
The film was produced by the Joris Ivens Collective, a group named after the legendary Dutch documentary filmmaker. With narration by actors Aparna Sen and Jagannath Guha and made on a tight budget, the film faced challenges and had to be halted until another legendary filmmaker, Mrinal Sen, stepped in. Sen arranged for a bank loan of Rs 10,000 and stood as guarantor. The film went on to win an award at the Oberhausen Film Festival.
“I believe the film remains relevant today because cinema is a reflection of the memories of time. It vividly portrayed life in Saltora and Kalagachhia half a century ago, seamlessly blending reporting and in-depth analysis of its underlying causes. While it garnered numerous awards at international film festivals, here in our country, we had to resort to using projectors to showcase it in various universities after the Emergency. The creation of this documentary itself is a compelling story,” said Ghosh.
Translated from the Bengali original by Aparna Bhattacharya.