Brutal Reality Drowned in Deepa Mehta’s Most Talked About Film Water
What is remarkable to my mind about the theme of the film is that it attempts to delve deep into the Indian society of the thirties, thereby telling an inspirational tale about a girl who refuses to accept her fate and struggles against all powerful religious customs those are at odds with her and those render her a prisoner without a future. Overall, there is a mixed reaction about the film from all quarters of the world, where rejection is reported much more than acceptance.
To my mind, this is owing to the fact that Mehta tells the story with a stoic sense of outrage that turns into a growing spirit of possibility and potential. It is a pity that the film has to focus mainly on the Foreign market and International Film Festivals all around the globe, as the Indian market that thrives on feel-good commercial flicks is reportedly “appalled” and “shocked to death” by the film depicting the horrendous past of India where baseless beliefs were blindly followed and umpteen lives were painfully wasted by the Indian caste system.
Having watched the two earlier films of Deepa Mehta’s much-hyped trilogy, “Fire” and “Earth-1947” years ago, it was time for me to watch the last one, “Water”, to make my viewing full-circle. No doubt, the whole trilogy, comprising of taboo topics like lesbianism and polygamy, even in this era, is bound to rake up fire as they have challenged established moral concerns through the detailed examination of sexual and familial relationships.
This time, there was scope of unlimited challenges and controversies for the film-maker, what with the project being shelved in February 2000 due to the ruthless attack of Hindu fundamentalists angered by the sensitive subject matter. The set of the film was burned in the “holy” city of Varanas, causing over $600,000 worth of damage.
In every era, when the veil of darkness is lifted and age-old conventions and superstitions casting an evil spell in human minds are challenged, so-called aficionados of religion, by imposing nonsensical restrictions and by creating treacherously outrageous conditions in the name of power play, still make it a point to prove that they are there for humanity and they will make their presence felt, “taming the shrew” in the process.
By delaying the project for six long years, by succumbing to the hostility of the fundamentalists with the resulting tensions, and eventually being forced to shoot the film outside India (in Sri Lanka) with an entirely new casting crew, and with a somewhat altered script, even the bold director Deepa Mehta proved that the devils of the yesteryears who suppressed the voices of humanity in the name of religion, are here to stay for long.
As a result, the film has not only been shrouded in controversies, but has also quite ironically been a by-product of compromises. I pretty much remember Shabana Azmi being in news in 2000 for shaving off her hair after signing this project with Deepa Mehta. Nandita Das, the dusky, unconventional beauty was to do the bit which was later done by Lisa Ray. While both these women are pretty known in the socialite circle for their activist avatars, it is a wonder that they later backed out of the project, giving way to a totally different star-cast.
The story, set on the banks of the Ganges in Varanasi, depicts the desperate plight of widows forced to live a renounced, abandoned life, which the priest (Kulbhushan Kharbanda) portrays as “the prayashchit” of the ill the widows have committed in their previous karmic lives and also as the door to attain “liberation” after being possessed by God in the realm of death. The enigmatic, resilient widow Shakuntala (played to utmost perfection by Seema Biswas) seems to have been used to the pathetic plight she is forced into after her widowhood, but still she cannot resist the temptation of questioning the basis of all these, only to hear to obscure answers from the priest, in the name of the Hindu scriptures.
As a corollary to her silent suffering, there are widows of various ages and sizes, all living under the same roof. Though a maximum number of them are widowed in childhood, never remembering the bliss of a conjugal life, all are forced to live impoverished lives devoid of sensual pleasures. Bearing suppression for ages, the amount of pain, frustration, anger, and even a bit of lunacy are elements that make them all the more human.
It is a psychologically proven fact that suppression of human desires bring about perversion, lunacy and distorted pleasures, all of which, ironically, are shown by the existence of Madhumati (played by vamp of yesteryears, Manorama) and her accomplice, the eunuch Gulabi (played by Raghuvir Yadav). While the widows assort themselves by the ganges to listen to the religious scriptures and sanctify their souls by thinking of renunciation, a vicious game of prostitution continues from behind, as Kalyani (Lisa Ray), the gorgeous “asset” of the widow asram is set free to have her large tresses, dress up and sleep around with the “seth” secretly, prompted by the old hag Madhumati, all these in order to keep the asram “survive”.
The role of the child “Chuiya” in the film:
In the first scene of the film, the death of the so-called “husband” of Chuiya, an eight year-old kid, brings her idyllic innocence to a jolting halt. Being forced to shave off her hair, wrap her body in a piece of white cloth and left in the widow asram along with its inmates, all of whom are four to five double her age in average, the plot of the film revolves around how her life changes its course during her stay in the asram and how she is able to touch the chords of her heart with her inmates. While with her childish innocence and pranks, she befriends Kalyani, the stunning young widow (some scenes and the rain song being filmed on the two have a lyrical intensity to it), in spite of raking up fire and letting all hell break loose at times in the Asram, she affects the lives of some older widows that have been there for years.
Her role to the film is crucial from at least three perspectives: (i) reviewing the emotional conflicts of the adult widows with her pristine innocence, (ii) providing the characteristic childish innocence to the romantic aspect of the film depicted by the love between Kalyani and the idealist youth Narayan. (iii) The third perspective of the child’s presence is somewhat grim and ironical, that of child sexual abuse being secretly administered beneath the so-called sanctified framework of the existence of the widows. The child, overall, acts as the eye-opener to the hypocritical, perverse social practices being maintained under the so-called banner of religion.
The love aspect of the film:
In spite of the lyrical intensity of the songs (written by Sukhwinder, composed by A.R.Rehman) that depict forbidden love between Narayan and Kalyani, the cinematography (by Giles Nuttgens) capturing the ghats of the ganges, the outstanding background score by Mychael Danna,, the mysterious nights of Vanaras where the lovers meet secretly and profess their affections for each other, the sadistic theme of doomed star-crossed lovers prove at the end, with Kalyani’s suicide, that in a society where hypocrisy and skin-trade in the name of religion and Brahmin existence prevails, Narayan the idealist is living in a fool’s paradise, nurturing dreams of marrying a widow who had all lust for life. While the vices being offered to Kalyani secretly, at the expense of her beauty portrays a brutal truth, her tragic death highlights the fact that patriarchal social norms will have their cunning way in spite of the silent sufferings of thousands of Kalyanis.
One may question at the end, isn’t there any positive aspect at the end of the brutal truth? Remember the last scene, where the desperate Shakuntala (Seema Biswas) literally begs the fanatics swept over by the idealism and “passive resistance” of Gandhiji to handover the mentally and physically tormented child to Gandhiji? Not one of them is honest enough to listen to her pleas, and to consider the child’s identity as something other than a “doomed widow”, until the broken hearted Narayan takes her into his shelter. This proves that the big talks of shattering customs and prejudices preached by the reformers of society, uttered time and again by so-called intellectuals fall flat when the actual time arises. The writer had to ultimately take recourse to the so-called hero Narayan and rather accidental circumstances to show that there is at least a ray of hope for the shattered child.
In India, where there are around 34,000 widows (according to the 2001 census) still living impoverished, shattered lives, such a film is worth a watch, at least to acknowledge that there is a vicious reality around. However, numerous controversies, the media-hype, the news of lawsuits of plagiarism being filed by a Bengali writer (Sunil Ganguly) against the director will only create enough “masala” to deviate the audiences’ minds from the actual intention of the film and render it yet another hyped product in the film-market!
It is all the more shocking to know that even in Toronto and in some of the US cities, there exists a group of fundamentalists who have dared to offer “friendly advice” to Deepa Mehta, the film maker, suggesting to quit screening the film here because Americans and Canadians do not understand the complexities of Indian traditions! Coupled to it are the “valuable” suggestions coming up from nooks and corners of India as well as the so-called “Worldwide Indian Diaspora” who are alleging the lady about highlighting the dark side of the Indian society. They question her inability to perceive good things in India and show them on big screen.
However, these pseudo-intellectuals ought to know that mushy, goody goody love tales, sentimental family dramas and Ramgopal Verma horror flicks are not the absolute truths of the country. Having said that, one has to acknowledge that venal corruption, casteism, communal riots, female infanticide as well as exploitation of the female in all forms have become sort of ground realities in the country. It is not all about clinging to a vision of the land that might have existed hundreds of years ago. The truth on the other hand is, even today, if one visits Vanaras or for that matter, any other religious small town of India, such things do exist, though in less severity than before. In the end, all I think is that a society can move forward only when reality of plights and atrocities are accepted and a solution is sought for it. And now, it is really high time that fundamentalists of all hues and faiths, whether in India, or in the US and Canada, realize that!
