I was very fond of Safdar, but who wasnt? We liked him for his charming personality, his easy laughter, sophisticated manners, effortless articulation, clearcut views and tender human values. Habib Tanvir// This is not a story of death. It is a story of life. The luminous life of Safdar Hashmi, extraordinary in all its ordinariness.// Safdar Hashmi was only thirtyfour when he died from injuries sustained during a senseless attack. On New Years Day in 1989, Jana Natya Manch Janam the theatre group he was a part of, and which he led, was attacked while performing a street play on the outskirts of Delhi. Beginning with a record of the attack that killed him, this vivid memoir illuminates the life of Safdar Hashmi artist, comrade, poet, writer, actor, activist, and a man everyone loved.//But this is not a book about one man or one tragic incident. Halla Bol shows us, closeup, how one mans death and life are intertwined with the stories of many people. It shows the intersections between cultural practice and workingclass politics, the profound link between ideology and reallife struggle.//For a generation that grew up without knowing Safdar Hashmi, Halla Bol renders his passion, humour and humanism into an intimate portrait. It also gives an understanding of resistance, and the strength to put it into practice. The ideas that Safdar and his colleagues grappled with during a period of tumult and change in India are harbingers of the society we are today.//Studded with details about the making of Janams iconic street plays, such as Machine and Halla Bol (the play Janam was performing in Jhandapur at the time of the attack), and the staging of them at street corners, the books nimble prose reads like a wellcrafted play.