Halla Bol: The Death and Life of Safdar Hashmi by Sudhanva Deshpande - A review

I had long been aware of Safdar Hashmi primarily through the Delhi road named after him—Safdar Hashmi Marg—where the Shri Ram Centre For Performing Arts stands. The nearby Mandi House area, home to the National School Of Drama - ????????? ????? ???????? and many cultural institutions, has always been a hub of creativity. But beyond these geographical markers, I confess, I knew little about the man himself, until I joined Tulika Books , and later when I met sudhanva leftword . But what I knew was still only the tip of the iceberg, as I see it now.

Reading Halla Bol: The Death and Life of Safdar Hashmi by Sudhanva Deshpande, published by LeftWord Books , was an eye-opener. It was like stepping into a world brimming with passion, struggle, creativity, and defiance.

I’ve known Sudhanva—“Sudhu” to most of us—for nearly 30 years. I’ve watched him tell enthralling stories to an engaged audience, and evolve as an artist, performing and directing with the legendary @Jana Natya Manch (Janam), a street theatre collective that has long stood as a symbol of people’s resistance and cultural activism. I saw him help set up LeftWord Books of which he became Managing Editor. Yet, I never fully grasped the depth of the world he inhabited in those years—the world of Safdar Hashmi, the thrill of creating art for social change, and the tragedy of Safdar’s murder. The book Halla Bol helped me understand my friend Sudhu better.

On January 1, 1989, Safdar was brutally attacked while performing a play, Halla Bol, and succumbed to his injuries the next day. That day is now commemorated as National Street Theatre Day, a testament to the enduring legacy of his life and work.

This book, painstakingly put together over 25 years, is a labour of love—Sudhanva’s tribute not only to Safdar but to the very idea of street theatre and its transformative power. It is meticulously researched, with accounts drawn from interviews, archival material, and memories of those who knew Safdar. It traces the ripples of that tragic moment in 1989, leading to the birth of the Safdar Hashmi Memorial Trust (SAHMAT) and other initiatives aimed at carrying forward his ideals.

Through this narrative, one sees what it takes to build movements and social organizations—the fiery passion, the sheer creativity, and the relentless drive to fight for the marginalized. Safdar’s story is intertwined with the working class's struggles for dignity, justice, and fair wages. His plays, his poetry, and his activism reflect an artist’s commitment to making art inseparable from life and its battles.

The book captures poignant details about how plays like Halla Bol were conceived and brought to life. The glimpses into Safdar’s workshops with luminaries like MK Raina and Rathin Das are precious, brimming with lessons for any artist or activist. It also introduces us to Safdar’s association with the Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA), his collaborations with icons like Habib Tanvir and Zohra Segal, and his deep commitment to the CPI(M) and the Students’ Federation of India (SFI).

One of the most touching aspects of the book is the story of Safdar’s relationship with Mala Hashmi (Moloyashree). His letters about Mala reveal a tender, all-consuming love—a romanticism that feels like poetry in motion. The quirky anecdote about their attempt to change their surnames post-marriage, only to be thwarted by bureaucratic red tape, adds a humanizing touch to the otherwise intense narrative.

While Safdar is the hero of the story, Mala emerges as its pillar. After Safdar’s death, she carried forward the mantle of Janam, ensuring that the collective not only survived but thrived. Her resilience and dedication are awe-inspiring.

For me, this book was also a window into people I’ve met—Rajendra Prasad (Rajen), MK Raina, Anuradha Kapur, Maya Rao—and wished I had known better. It deepened my respect for Sudhanva’s own journey, shaped by his illustrious polyglot parents, GP Deshpande, the award-winning playwright, and Kalindi Deshpande, a fiercely talented and multifaceted figure.

At its heart, Halla Bol (Raise Hell) is not just about one man or one movement; it’s about the spirit of resistance and the unyielding belief in the power of art to effect change. It left me inspired, humbled, and yearning to engage more deeply with the world of Janam and Safdar’s legacy.

This is a book you don’t just read—you live through it, and in doing so, perhaps you come closer to understanding what it means to create, to resist, and to dream of a better world.