Rajat Mitra
Survivors, Memory and the Burial of Truth in Bollywood
There is a well known book on the eminent director Steven Spielberg’s making of the movie ‘Schindler’s list’.
The book was written by a polish reporter who worked with him and was
fascinated by how Spielberg dealt with a highly sensitive and emotional
topic as holocaust in Poland. As he writes, ‘Spielberg went to Poland to
talk to numerous survivors, read avidly on everything on the subject,
talked to people who told him about their memories to understand the
subtle emotions that people carried in order to understand the tragic
reality that remained enveloped for a community’.
I had read that
book at a second hand store. The book is a revelation on how you make
works of art, especially books and films on sensitive topics such as
war, genocide and gulags.
The author talks of the core theme of the
novel Schindler’s list as being the pain of the community that is not
understood and difficult to project on screen. The pain the Jews felt at
being thrown out of their homes having lived in for centuries, being
herded like cattle in trains to be killed in mass extermination camps
and the silence of the world, all were issues that stared them in the
face. He writes of the dilemma of the director as not just how to show
the pain in day to day events as it actually happened but also the
emotions the present generation Jews still carry about that chapter of
their 2000 year old history.
Of all the writings I have gone through
about Rani Padmini (Rani Padmavati), I find the story by Abonindronath
Tagore, nephew of Rabindranath Tagore, to be one of the best. When I
first read it as a teenager, I understood and felt the dilemma of the
queen at being responsible for the suffering of her people. As Rani
Padmini began to realize that her beauty is the cause of so many deaths
in Chittor, her desperation and holding herself responsible for it is
was described poignantly by the author. I understood that she wasn’t a
vain, narcissistic woman who was self absorbed. Her ambivalence, her
dilemma not only I felt in every sentence of the story, it was so real
that it took my mind to a land where valor and honor ruled supreme and
kings and queens faced a tragic reality together. Nowhere while reading
it I felt she was egoistic as a queen but the people of the fort loved
her and she loved them back befitting a queen. That made it worse for
her as she saw the upcoming massacre.
To me the stories of Spielberg
and Bhansali have an uncanny similarity but their styles as a film
makers come as just diametrically opposite to me while dealing with
sensitive issues. Both directors depict an issue and an era where
lust, greed and power tried to overcome every human moral virtue of what
was good in society. The irony is that while one researched it by going
in the hearts of people, studied in depth to make it a story depicting
human condition, the other is how a mass tragedy is converted into a
mindless entertainment and turned into an insensitive drawl.
I
remember a visit with my father to Chittor fort when I was fifteen. We
were taken around the fort in a tonga, a horse drawn cart. I have
forgotten most of that journey except three things the tongawala showed
us. The first was the mirror in which he said Allaudin Khilji saw Rani
Padmini, the second where the women of Chittor committed Jouhar and the
third where Allaudin Khilji rested for three days in Rani Padmini’s
palace before going back.
His voice was full of grief as he told us
the story and showed us around, especially the second place. The story,
he said, he had heard sitting at the feet of his grandmother with other
children. His voice full of emotions was soon replaced with pride as he
told us why the Ranas of Chittor are called Maha Ranas and no train from
Chittor will ever go to the center of Delhi [it was true then]. At that
time they stopped before reaching New Delhi station. He talked of the
warriors, Gora and Badal and described their valor as how they were
central to the story of Rani Padmini.
The grief of the Rajputs and
perhaps much of the rest of India over that incident is not over and
perhaps won’t be for a long time to come. The Jouhar, where thousands of
women immolated themselves, are an image every Rajput child carries
inside as his or her identity. Through stories, the grief has been
passed on from generation to generation. Till the time efforts are made
for a closure through acknowledgement, through poetry and literature by
later generations, the trauma of a society will not be laid to rest and
will continue to haunt
Sadly the films with the likes of Bhansali
and Bollywood do nothing of the kind. They don’t bring a closure. They
do the opposite of that. They open raw wounds again and fragment us as a
society even further due to their insensitivity.
The film by
Spielberg on the other hand took a giant step towards bringing in a
closure by portraying a painful chapter of Jews with sensitivity,
research and humility. A reason lost to the film makers of Bollywood and
why they fail to achieve this goal that can bring in healing of a
lifetime. They don’t understand such movies are about survivors and
their feelings, first and foremost. Witness the actress, Deepika
Padukone saying, ‘We have regressed as a nation’. No, we haven’t, Ms.
Padukone. The whole of Bollywood industry needs to grow up from a
culture of insensitivity into a mature industry.
The image of Jouhar
has become an indelible identity for Rajputs and perhaps for many
Indians who will hold on to this past of their ancestors that is
fragmented and full of humiliation for an entire race. The images
existed then as an island of resistance in midst of brutalities by
Mughals. Today their existence is challenged by historians and liberals
who try to crush it saying that our past should not be defined by the
survivors and their memories but by the very absence of it.
If a
director like Bhansali would have made Schindler’s list, would he have
shown Jews dancing in groups wearing fancy costumes before being herded
like cattle in trains for gas chambers? Would Deepika Padukone acting as
a Jew, be having a fantasy about some Nazi officer singing a song? Why
not in the name of artistic freedom or in the name of free speech, some
might say.
Who will care if the sensitivity of a race whose women
killed themselves regularly to protect their honor be lost in that
process to the future generation? Didn’t the British believe we Indians
are regressed and ruled us based on that hallowed principle. Isn’t it a
question of freedom of expression?
A spokesperson for congress
recently said that female literacy rate in Rajasthan is more important
than the current Padmavati debate. Sure, why not Mr. Spokesperson? Self
respect and honor – they come only after we learn to speak English? They
are meaningless till our society becomes English language savvy and
people are able to speak in a polished manner? Till then we will let
others define it for us?
A familiar argument of colonial times given
by ‘Barra Sahibs’, ‘Why discuss certain things in front of natives?
Natives can’t think after all’.
A columnist, a socialite, who
represents a vast mass of intellectuals, too wrote in a national daily
sometime ago. In her article she said she wants to protect the battle of
this beautiful queen from the most savage attacks she has faced, more
savage than the attack on her honor by Allaudin Khilji, in her opinion
which is the current one. Perhaps a queen lusted at and at the center of
a humiliation, the lives of thousands at stake is difficult to imagine
for her. Perhaps she has forgotten that feelings of humiliation existed
in those days too, in a far more raw and savage form than it is today.
There were no hiding spaces for those who became the center of it unlike
now.
She says cinema occupies its own universe. No, it doesn’t Ms.
Author. Cinema is part of the same universe that you and I, a million
Indians living in slums breathe in day after day and feel in their
bones. It is reflective of your life, my life and is the universal human
condition that governs the genocides, the fate that befell our people
regularly from invasions and led to Jouhars. The longings and sufferings
of those women while they immolated themselves in the fire or the Jews
who were gassed in concentration camps remains a voice that hasn’t died.
If you cared to pause and heard the voices of the people you were
making a film about Mr. Bhansali, you wouldn’t have made them dance and
sing the way you did. You would show a voice of a people whose
descendants then would have faith in you because someone is respecting
their memory. Memory remains a raw nerve even after centuries of
silence, Mr. Bhansali that will good for you to remember when you make
your next film.
The Jews who died in camps, the women who immolated
themselves still serve as a beacon of hope and light to millions of
people. It is something the directors of Bollywood have yet to
understand it seems whose vision of everything is entertainment first
and is typified by dancing in front of the camera. Queens, Kings,
survivors, their persecutors including all dance in abandon in Bollywood
movies to show a peculiar human condition no film critic has figured so
far. Who will tell them it doesn’t express the deeper emotions of
mankind and its tumultuous history? The emotions that emerged during the
times societies were in trouble and faced annihilation, the ambivalence
and doubt that plagued them is of another kind.
The author of the
above said column writes that the legend of Padmavati was invented by a
Sufi saint and Rajputs are not the sole owners of her legend. Why, did
Sufi saints have nothing better to do than create mythical Hindu women
characters?
History has countless interpretations as is claimed by
our secular brigade. Only the one by survivors doesn’t figure in that
according to them. And of course many interpretations are created by
paid historians to sow confusion and doubt in the minds of survivors of
the future generations so that the version of the victors remains the
only one. The victims in every age had to fight to get their voice
heard. When they didn’t their voice turned into deathly silence and was
used for entertainment.
Like millions of others I also saw the
trailer of the dance sequence of Padmavati. I felt full of disgust that I
hadn’t experienced in a long time. Whether that dance was done by Rani
Padmini or not is not what bothered me. The image I carried of her was
of a stoic noble queen who felt for her people and stood as a symbol of
courage that was noble, just and upholder of human dignity of her
people. When I had read the book by Abonindronath Tagore, I had felt an
impending and unforeseen tragedy in the air that will wipe out her
people forever and change the history of her land forever. When I saw
the trailer, I felt none of those emotions.
The Bollywood film
industry has not touched sensitive themes in a way like their
counterparts in other parts of the world have done. Ours is an industry
in transition, growing out of showing entertainment films to making
films that may have a surreal, disturbing and painful quality. The
genocides, the partition, riots and mass violence belong to that genre. I
wish our filmmakers and actors would realize that sooner than later and
make it following one cardinal rule. The survivors and only the
survivors need to find their voice, their pain through the artwork and
feel it has been heard and brought out sensitively. That is the rule
every great art work and writer and director follows. In the process it
may open a raw wound again but it is needed when truth is shown after
being suppressed for long.
It is perhaps the first right of the
survivors and not that of media, intellectuals or even historians to
define that reality for us and to say whether that pain has been
addressed or not.
The Rajputs, her descendants of the royal family,
are the survivors of the horrendous carnage that took place centuries
ago in the name of bigotry and lust. It is the descendants of survivors
of those who deserve to be heard even if it is a whisper. Not hearing it
can turn it into release of avalanche of emotions for the descendants.
When you make a film on trauma, a carnage that is as real in your heart
as if it happened only yesterday, it is imperative to listen to that
voice and that voice alone before anyone else. Otherwise it is the
perpetrators voice that dominates and takes the center stage.
Our
land has gone through many atrocities and the memory of those events
remains suppressed but alive. The voice of the victims has been
relegated to the background as not worth listening to. Let us listen to
that voice now and hope that it reigns this time.
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