You should not do Shakespeare at the beginning of your career, it takes time to understand him. So I thought, let me end with Shakespeare, better still with King Lear.”

That is Anjan Dutt explaining his choice of swan song so far as the stage is concerned. 
Most people now associate Dutt with his songs and films, but his oldest love, to use a cliche, is theatre. He had been part of Saadhnik, a Bengali theatre group in the 1970s. They staged Utpal Dutt’s fiery anti-Vietnam war plays. Then he moved on to Badal Sircar’s plays. And in 1977 he formed his own group Open Theatre.

Dutt’s Bengali play Aro Ekta Lear debuted in November 2024. He continues, “Lear was a natural choice because it was age-appropriate. When I did Galileo, I was that age. When I did Death of a Salesman, I was Willy Loman’s age.”

I half expect Dutt to say something about the good old days, but he doesn’t, not in the context of work. Yes, he will tell you that he has realised that stage demands a certain physical exertion that he cannot deliver anymore. He will also tell you that he tried to write another screenplay after Chaalchitra Ekhon — his 2024 film and a shout-out to mentor Mrinal Sen — but drew a blank. He will even tell you that he has to smoke fewer cigarettes now before one of his musical performances, but even then he is not cribbing.

What gets his goat is any talk of his beloved Darjeeling.

Dutt was a boarder at St. Paul’s School, Darjeeling, and it changed, by his own admission, his life.

His films, be it Bada Din from 1998 or Chalo Let’s Go from 2008 or Murder in the Hills made in 2021, celebrate the scenic beauty of Darjeeling. “I couldn’t have become a musician if I didn’t grow up in Darjeeling,” he adds.

Dutt cannot talk about Darjeeling and keep his cool. He also cannot help but get into details, the nuts and bolts of the Darjeeling problem, in a manner and with a passion that eludes any outsider’s understanding. He seems to choke while talking about how this hotel and that school in Darjeeling that were/are hellbent on getting a swimming pool. It is only upon being interrupted that he is able to explain the reason behind his outrage — Darjeeling suffers from water scarcity. In such a scenario, a swimming pool is a foolish, unnecessary indulgence.

But builders and businessmen don’t care. Dutt says, “You can’t keep building hotels, hotels, hotels, hotels, hotels.” He continues, “And if you do that, you need to spread it out. You need to spread it out, move right down to Ghum or Sonada. But if you’re centering it around Lower Bazaar and the Chowrasta, then it’s going to become dirty and polluted….”

He tells me how every time he has shot in Darjeeling, he has made it a point to give back to the place and the people. “I use local cars, not cars from Siliguri. I have always involved the locals.”

When he has paused to breathe, the spirit of old Darjeeling has taken over him. He says, “I miss the natural beauty, the colonial structures. I miss that a lot. Too much of city colours. Too much. I mean, if Darjeeling looks like Calcutta, why will people from here want to go there?”

He starts to talk about the could-have-beens. “There could have been a Darjeeling festival, a film festival, there could have been a jazz festival. There is not a single art festival. There is not a single theatre festival.” He wishes the government would take some initiative. “There’s a huge space all over Tiger Hill. Use it. If you’re breaking down a beautiful park to build a monstrous hall, at least use it. Use it for international festivals,” he says.

Dutt brings out the ideas, full on. “Calcutta is dead in summer. Summer events can be hosted in Darjeeling. Christmas can be celebrated in a huge way.”

By turns he is excited by the possibilities and disappointed with government apathy. “The moment the local government does not get a seat there, they don’t think it’s part of their territory. Therefore, they will not invest anything in Darjeeling.”

Dutt recalls how in his childhood he saw stalwarts of the Hindi film industry visit Darjeeling. He remembers Shashi Kapoor’s visits. “But I have never known of Jyoti Basu visiting or Buddhadeb Bhattacharya. Initially, Mamata Banerjee would visit and I was excited and hopeful, but…” He is more appreciative of the work done by Ajoy Edwards, owner of Glenary’s and convener of the newly launched Indian Gorkha Janshakti Front. He adds, “He did it all on his own.”

At the time of this interview, Christmas is round the corner, and Dutt is busy with shows of King Lear — he has already announced that with this production he will retire from the stage. Any fond lines? “It is not so much a line but the character that I identify with,” he says.

And we are back to Darjeeling. Dutt says, “Bengalis love Darjeeling. And Bengalis like to live in a certain state of nostalgia. But are they concerned about the place? All the love that we profess isn’t anything unless it is translated into action. No?”

As Lear would say: “Nothing will come of nothing…”