The scene begins with a date at a restaurant, and Anant Velankar (Om Puri) reading out poetry to Jyotsna (Smita Patil). They get to one of her favourite poems: Ardh Satya, by Dilip Chitre.
When he finishes the first stanza, he looks up at her and smiles briefly. He’s still on a date, and this is still an enjoyable pastime. But watch how the context changes for him internally as he proceeds: by the third or fourth stanza, he is no longer on a date. The words are beginning to strike home.
Shifting gears emotionally in the middle of reading something out is not an entirely unheard-of phenomenon in the movies. But for me, this ranks among the best.
Is it the brilliance of those lines? Or the mesmeric nature of Om Puri’s voice as he transforms Velankar’s reading of someone else’s words into something deeply autobiographical? Or Smita Patil’s stillness as Jyotsna realizes that, at this moment, all she can do is watch this man try to come to terms with his own demons?
The poem is recited again right at the end, in a voiceover. Just to remind you that what you have witnessed is an ending, not a resolution.
Roger Ebert often used to say that the quality of a film is determined not so much by what it is about, but by how it is about it. Here is a gritty drama about an angry, honest cop dealing with a corrupt system. And even if you watch it today, over three decades and many such films later, it feels like a punch to the gut. To me, this poem is why it does.