Mala Chakravorty
has a Ph.D. in American Women's fiction from I.I.T. Delhi, and Master's degrees in English and American Studies from Delhi University and Smith College, Massachusetts. She has worked in the School of Women's Studies, Jadavpur University,
Kolkata, and Women's Studies Program at the University of Hawai'i at
Manoa, Honolulu. She switched from academics to Information Technology in 1999, and worked at HCL Technologies, Inc. and NIIT Technologies, Inc. in Atlanta. She recently moved to Orlando, Florida, where she joined
InfoSource, Inc. as Account Executive. Apart from her academic articles, Mala's short stories have been published in
Sulekha.com and BAGA annual magazines.
Water:
Still Currents
BOLLYWOOD
GUPSHUP
Director & Screenwriter:
Deepa Mehta Producer: David Hamilton; Executive Producers: Mark Burton, Ajay Virmani, Doug Mankoff Cinematography: Giles Nuttgens Music: Mycheal Danna; Songs composed by A.R. Rahman; Lyrics by Sukhwinder Singh Production Designer: Dilip Mehta Art Director, Sumant Jayakrishnan Cast: Sarala, Seema Biswas, Lisa Ray, John Abraham, Manorma, Raghuvir Yadav, Vinay Pathak, Vidula Javalkar, Kulbhushan Kharbanda, Gerson da Cunha & Waheeda Rehman.
Mehta has brought to life, with compassion and sensitivity, the cloistered world of deprived women in a society ridden with double standards...
Water, the third film in Deepa Mehta’s elemental trilogy after Fire (1996) and Earth (1998), was the opening film at the 2005 Toronto International Film Festival held in September 2005. Officially released in November 2005, Water has since won critical acclaim, awards and was listed among the top ten Canadian films of 2005.
Set in pre-independent India against the backdrop of emerging nationalism, the film depicts the plight of Hindu widows. Mehta’s films have always generated controversy. Fire, a story of two women falling in love, faced violent protests against its showing in India. Earth’s depiction of racial violence engendered by India’s partition in 1947 paralleled the communal tensions that have plagued contemporary India. The making of Water could be a film in itself, a telling tale of bigotry and fundamentalism that still dogs India.
The script of Water was originally approved by the Indian censor-board in 2000. Filming began in Varanasi, where widow houses are still inhabited by destitute widows. The shooting was disrupted by Hindu fundamentalists who claimed the film distorted Hindu traditions and culture. Over two thousand protestors, led by three main political parties, burnt down the set and destroyed all prints. Effigies of Mehta were burnt and she received death threats from a religio-political party that was created specifically targeting her.
Claiming to be the guardians of the Hinduism, the protestors argued that Mehta was exploiting India’s traditions to sell to the West. They were supported by the leadership in the state government of Uttar Pradesh who had earlier approved of the script, and the project was shelved. Determined to make this film, Mehta spent the next few years raising money to start once again. Eventually Water was remade in Sri Lanka with a new cast, and a working title, River Moon. The final product is a thought-provoking story aimed at audiences beyond the Indian
diaspora. Mehta says that although her film has created ripples in the west, she would really like Indians to see it. She feels that far from critiquing or distorting Hinduism, the film shows that it is not religion but the misinterpretation of religious scriptures by people with vested interests that keeps the mass encapsulated in retrogressive values.
The story requires some basic knowledge and understanding of Indian history.
The setting was changed from Varanasi to a fictional small town in the Bengal-Bihar border. The time is 1938, the onset of the Nationalist movement and the emergence of Mahatma Gandhi as a social reformer and a political power. The feudal and the caste system are very much in place, and a systemic oppression on the basis of caste, class and gender are the norm. The geneses of this hierarchical social structure are Hindu laws, drafted by Manu some 2000 years ago.
Although the film touches on British imperialism; caste and class oppression; social reform; political movements; the focus is on gender oppression, specifically the oppression of Hindu widows. The identity of a true Hindu woman, defined by Manu, is entirely in terms of her relationships with men, she has no social or political rights of her own, and is expected to live and die a daughter, wife and mother. Manu’s laws mandate that once a woman is widowed, her life is over, and she can become a sati and die on her husband’s funeral pyre or live the rest of her life in self abnegation, or in some communities, marry her husband’s younger brother. By the onset of the 20th century, Satidaha had been outlawed; an Age of Consent and Widow Remarriage Bills had been passed with the objective of outlawing child marriage and permitting widow-remarriage. In real life, child marriage was fairly prevalent and the lifelong deprivation and oppression of widows was the norm. Remarriage of widows was sacrilegious, and widows, considered financial burdens by their families were sent to
Varanasi, where they were lived in penury and severe austerity till they died.
The film begins with the widowing of an 8-year-old girl, Chuiya
(Sarala), whose father leaves her in a widow-home. The ashram is run like a prison by a domineering old woman, Madhumati
(Manorama), who smokes pot and discusses politics with the local pimp/hermaphrodite Gulabi
(Raghuvir Yadav). The women sequestered here range in age from 8 to 80. They have closely cropped hair, wear stark white saris; eat one frugal meal a day; pray and fast, and beg in temples. They are pariahs in society and not permitted to cast their shadow on any auspicious occasion. Chuiya cannot understand why she has to live here, and keeps asking questions. Her rebellious instincts upset the equilibrium of this household, where the rule is to unquestioningly accept a widow’s destiny. Chuiya is quickly adopted by the stern but nurturing Shakuntala
(Seema Biswas), a devout widow who silently struggles to retain her faith in the scriptures and in this concept of destiny. Chuiya is also befriended by the luminously beautiful Kalyani (Lisa Ray), a young widow who is allowed the luxury of keeping her hair long and live in a room of her own. The reason for these privileges granted to Kalyani is that she is used as a prostitute by Madhumati to keep the ashram running. Kalyani spends her days praying to Lord Krishna, and playing with Chuiya and her pet dog
Kalu. At night, she accompanies Gulabi across the river to the stately homes of the Brahmins where she services the men. Despite the sordid nature of her life, there is an ethereal quality about her, an innate purity. The analogy drawn is that Kalyani is the lotus that remains unsullied by the murky water it grows in. At this point, enters Narayan (John Abraham), a young progressive lawyer who falls in love with Kalyani and wants to marry her. This relationship sets off a chain of actions that spirals into a devastating tragedy.
In the background runs the parallel story surrounding the rise of Mahatma Gandhi, and the legal, social and political changes that have not yet permeated to this heartland of Hindu traditions. The upper classes don’t want to lose their base of power or the luxurious life they lead courtesy the feudal system and the British government. The mass is trapped in a labyrinth of ignorance, fears and prejudices. Everyone sees Gandhi as a disruptive force that will shake the foundations of their existence. Change is imminent, but is still unreal and sacrilegious. The two stories come together at the finale, when Gandhi makes a brief appearance as his train passes through the town. Listening to him gives Shakuntala the impetus to be proactive and save Chuiya from becoming another
Kalyani. The film ends, resolving Shakuntala’s dilemma – Gandhi has shown her a way to reconcile social justice with spiritual belief.
Told in Hindi with English subtitles, Water is a story that tugs at the heart-strings. By using sound, light and color, Mehta juxtaposes a dark story in a vibrant setting, creating images of startling beauty and cruelty. The lack of color and the austerity in the lives of these women is in direct contrast to the serene beauty of the landscape. The lush colors and vibrant sounds of Indian culture intensify the stark whiteness and silent piety that encompasses these women. The central metaphor of the film is water, in tandem with the thematic unity of her elemental trilogy. Water represents fluidity and change, a concept that contrasts harshly with the rigid and immobile principles that rule the ashram. The flowing river where the house is located is at the centre of the narrative, life and death are celebrated here, water has the power to heal, to purify, and to kill. Traversing the waters is a way to get away. But it is also a path that leads to the homes where these women have to prostitute themselves in order to survive. The flowing nature of the river is ironic. It represents liberation and change – both of which are denied to widows. The stagnant pond where lotuses grow represent the reality of their lives.
Mehta’s original cast included Shabana Azmi as Shakuntala, Nandita Das as Kalyani and Akshay Kumar as
Narayan. The new casting surprised many, especially her choice of Lisa Ray and John Abraham. But Mehta is able to extract good performances from all the actors. The Sri Lankan child actor,
Sarala, gives an effortlessly natural performance as the moral core of the story, a naturally ebullient child who is unable to comprehend that magnitude of her widowed status and rebels the only way a child can, questioning, challenging, resisting, seeking love wherever she can find it. An exceptional performance drawn from a child who spoke neither Hindi nor English and all communication was through interpreters. Lisa Ray has a fragile vulnerability that encapsulates Mehta’s central concept of a lotus in a murky pond – a beautiful young woman who has not allowed the ugliness that surrounds her to bog her down, whose faith gives her hope of love and happiness. The support she gets from Narayan gives her the confidence to break out of the shackles of tradition though the odds stacked against her are too high. The joy, laughter, music, dance that Kalyani shares with Chuiya are the brightest moments of the film. Bollywood eye-candy John Abraham’s performance is sincere. It seems that he learnt how to wear a dhoti, how to play the flute and studied the historicity of the character. Though he does a good job of playing a sensitive young man influenced by progressive ideas in Colonial India, to me he seemed somewhat uncomfortable as bespectacled, dhoti-clad, Sanskrit-spouting social reformer. I almost expected him to remove his kurta and start gyrating to ‘Tauba tauba”, but that’s just my typecasting instincts! Manorama as the cruel matriarch who has no compunctions about using young widows as prostitutes to keep the ashram running is good, as is Raghuveer Yadav in a brave turn as a eunuch. Veteran Waheeda Rehman creates an impression in a brief appearance as Narayan’s loving mother, who is herself a victim of the patriarchal system.
However, the actor who crystallizes the essence of the story is Seema
Biswas. Her performance as the woman whose faith sustains yet also imprisons her is outstanding. She doesn’t have much dialogue, but we can see in her expressions the conflicts, the resentment, the anger, the pain, simmering within her at the injustice meted out to women like her in the name of religion. Her final act of courage in giving the child a hope for the future changes her forever. Biswas lends a quiet dignity and fortitude to her role and personifies female resilience within an oppressive patriarchy.
Flaws, several! Although a compelling tale, this is definitely not a movie that will be appreciated by the masses or anyone looking for entertainment. The pace is too slow and duration too long, it could almost be a documentary on the plight of widows. It also holds the potential danger of the western world saying ‘How barbaric!’ overlooking the barbarism that is prevalent in some form in every society where there is a systemic disempowering of groups of people based on race, ethnicity, class, gender, age. It may also enrage conservative Indians who are likely view it as an exploitation of Indian culture to garner Western interest and international acclaim. It may be problematic to liberal Indians because the complex confluence of social, political, religious and economic conditions that created and fed on this hierarchical power structure has been dealt with superficially. To me, the most serious flaw in the movie in the induction of Mahatma Gandhi and the politics of nationalism. Mehta is better at dealing with human emotions than she is at putting together an epic of such a vast sociopolitical scope. While I do appreciate Mehta’s attempts to combine a deeply moving personal story with historical conflict, religious questioning, and to conclude with a humanist message, I think that by trying to give the film this epic dimension takes away from the spontaneity and natural flow of the narrative. I also have problems with the resolution itself – it is too simplistic and idealistic. I understand that the act of giving the child to Gandhi is a symbolic act of liberating her from her ‘destiny’. But, practically speaking, what guarantee is there that the child will be safer in a train full of men? I would have been much more comfortable if Shakuntala herself had also jumped on to the train!
Enough of nitpicking! To me, personally, Water was, like 15 Park Avenue, an emotional experience, even though they are far removed from each other spatially and thematically. I have personally seen widow homes in Varanasi and the conditions poor widows live in. Many of them have never experienced beauty or love and are restricted from the most basic pleasures in life. It is easy to say that this doesn’t happen any more. Unfortunately, it still does. As the line from the 2001 census at the end of the film tells us, there are 34 million widows in India, and many of them live in destitution due to forced adherence to the traditional Hindu practices. Mehta has brought to life, with compassion and sensitivity, the cloistered world of deprived women in a society ridden with double standards. To me one of the most poignant moments in the film is that of the little girl secretly buying a laddoo for the old dying widow whose only memories of her marriage at the age of seven are of the food that has been denied to her ever since. Some other moments: Chuiya sitting patiently as her head is shaved; Kalyani and Chuiya dancing in the rain; the widows celebrating
Holi, a rare access to color in their bleak lives; Chuiya’s question, “Where is the home for male widows?” in the middle of a reading of scriptures; Chuiya weeping with self-recrimination after killing Madhumati’s pet parrot as an act of vengeance against the matriarch’s cruelty to
Kalyani; Shakuntala desperately trying to get to the other side of the river to rescue
Chuiya. Moments like these remain in one’s memory for a long time and make Water a heart-felt bitter-sweet experience.
