Hansa Wadkar, one of the most compelling figures in 1940s Indian cinema, continues to captivate audiences and scholars alike more than eight decades after her birth. Her life, chronicled in the Marathi autobiography Saangtye Aika (‘Listen to My Story’), has journeyed across media—from print to celluloid and finally to the stage—offering a rare glimpse into the realities behind the glamour of the film industry. Written in the mid-20th century, the book remains a testament to Wadkar’s courage in exposing the patriarchy, misogyny, and social constraints that shaped the lives of women in cinema, particularly those from marginalized backgrounds.

Published by Rajhans Prakashan in Pune, under the editorial guidance of S.G. Majgaokar, Saangtye Aika broke new ground as one of the first Marathi works to hold a mirror to the inner workings of the film industry. Majgaokar, known for his progressive and inclusive outlook, ensured that the book’s frank and unflinching portrayal of life behind the cameras reached readers, highlighting not only the struggles but also the triumphs of women who dared to assert themselves in a male-dominated industry. Over the decades, the book’s relevance has persisted, influencing filmmakers, writers, and theater practitioners alike.

In 1977, Shyam Benegal adapted Wadkar’s autobiography into the celebrated film Bhumika (‘The Role’), starring Smita Patil, Amol Palekar, Anant Nag, Naseeruddin Shah, and Amrish Puri. The film was widely lauded for its nuanced portrayal of a woman navigating the conflicting demands of personal life and professional ambition. Nearly fifty years later, the narrative found fresh life on the Marathi stage, when avant-garde director Vishwas Sohoni chose to reinterpret Saangtye Aika using a single-person chorus as the narrative device. Sohoni’s protege, acclaimed actor Manasi Kulkarni, was cast as the central protagonist, performing a one-woman show that integrates multiple roles, voices, and perspectives into a tightly woven narrative.

“After barely skimming the first fifteen pages, I realized the continuing relevance of Saangtye Aika, whether in cinema, politics, or corporate life. Women today still struggle to retain their dignity at home and in the workplace,” Sohoni remarked in a conversation over tea, reflecting on why Wadkar’s story resonates with contemporary audiences. Kulkarni, who inhabits the stage for seventy minutes while enacting various characters and incidents from Wadkar’s life, noted, “What struck me most about Hansabai was her ability to accept life’s challenges with courage and equanimity. She observes her own life from a dignified distance, balancing humor, pain, and resilience.”

The stage adaptation, despite being artistically ambitious, initially faced challenges in gaining traction. However, the support of Aawishkaar, a respected Mumbai-based theatre group, revitalized the project. Their recent performance at the Keshav Gore Smarak Trust auditorium in Goregaon drew a full house, proving that Wadkar’s story continues to engage audiences with its honesty and emotional depth.

Hansa Wadkar’s biography is notable not only for its cinematic and theatrical relevance but also for its historical and sociological insights. Many women in Marathi cinema during the early 20th century belonged to the kalavantincommunity, the Maharashtrian equivalent of the North Indian tawaif. Under British colonial rule, kalavantins, devdasis, and tawaifs were broadly categorized as “nautch girls” and often relegated to the margins of society. Meanwhile, reformist movements, particularly Gandhian initiatives, sought to “rehabilitate” these women without fully acknowledging their autonomy, wealth, literacy, or contributions to culture and the freedom struggle.

For many kalavantins, cinema offered a pathway to social mobility and financial independence. Pune, Kolhapur, and Mumbai studios became magnets for young women seeking opportunities to escape the constraints of traditional social structures. Wadkar herself joined the film industry at the age of twelve. She married at fifteen and became a mother at sixteen, under circumstances shaped by coercion and social pressures. Her professional journey took her through prestigious studios such as Prabhat Film Company and Bombay Talkies, yet her personal life remained fraught with difficulties, reflecting the broader tensions experienced by women navigating patriarchal systems.

Saangtye Aika was ghostwritten by journalists Arun Sadhu and Sudhakar Anavalikar, and it quickly inspired a wave of autobiographies by other actresses including Durga Khote, Leela Chitnis, Snehaprabha Pradhan, and Usha Kiran. Biographies of Lalita Pawar and Sulochana similarly exposed the hardships faced by female actors in an industry that often demanded compromises and resilience in the face of exploitation. Wadkar’s account stood out for its racy narrative style, candid reflections, and fearless critique of the gendered hierarchies within cinema.

The autobiography also highlighted the role of education, social standing, and economic independence in mitigating the impact of harassment. Unlike Hansa Wadkar, her contemporary Shanta Apte, who was well-educated and financially secure, could confront industry figures directly, famously entering the offices of Film India to challenge editor Baburao Patel over provocative commentary. Wadkar, by contrast, demonstrated courage in enduring personal and professional adversity, ultimately reclaiming her agency through her literary and cinematic contributions.

Publisher Dilip Majgaokar noted that Marathi readers appreciated Wadkar’s forthright approach, praising the book for its authenticity and literary quality. Wadkar herself received the Maharashtra government’s award for best book, a recognition she treasured during the final years of her life. Renowned critic W.L. Kulkarni penned the preface, situating the work within the broader discourse on cinema, gender, and cultural production.

Plans for a sequel to Saangtye Aika were in development with celebrated playwright Vijay Tendulkar before Wadkar’s untimely death in 1972, leaving the project unrealized. Nevertheless, the continued adaptations and reinterpretations of her story, including Sohoni’s theatrical innovation, demonstrate the enduring power of her narrative. On stage, Kulkarni’s performance fuses incidents, music, and dialogue, bringing Wadkar’s life vividly to audiences while preserving the themes of resilience, agency, and the ongoing struggle for dignity in male-dominated spheres.

Hansa Wadkar’s journey—from a child performer in the tamasha tradition to a celebrated but embattled film actor, and finally to a cultural icon through her autobiography—illuminates the complex intersections of art, gender, and society in mid-20th century India. Her life story, once a radical critique of the hidden realities of Bollywood, now continues to inspire theatre, literature, and scholarly discourse, reminding contemporary audiences of the persistent challenges women face while asserting their autonomy in public and private life.

The revival of Saangtye Aika on stage, alongside its cinematic legacy through Bhumika, underscores the enduring relevance of Wadkar’s life story, celebrating her courage, resilience, and refusal to be silenced in an industry often defined by exploitation, hierarchy, and patriarchal norms. Through each adaptation, Wadkar’s voice remains a powerful reminder of the need to confront structural inequities and honor the lived experiences of women who navigate both art and adversity.