(This was my Mirror column on 11
August 2019, six days after the Indian government announced the
abrogation of Article 370, stripped Jammu and Kashmir of statehood,
and bifurcated the region into two Union Territories -- while
simultaneously plunging it into a total communications shutdown that
continues indefinitely.)
The innocent Kashmiri child saved from
a vengeful, violent future may still work for a Hindi film audience.
But is it a delusional hope?
In Aijaaz Khan's Hamid, a CRPF
soldier finds himself in an ongoing conversation with a little
Kashmiri boy. One day, Hamid calls from outside when Abhay is on
his way to disperse an ongoing protest. “I hope you're not with the
stone-pelters! Go home!” Abhay yells into the phone. “I don't
throw stones,” says Hamid. “Abbu used to say, you throw stones,
they will shoot. And stones can't compete with bullets.” “Your
Abbu made perfect sense,” the soldier agrees approvingly. “And
Abbu also said, only Allah has the right to take away life, no one
else,” the child patters on. “Tell me, have you ever taken a
life?” The soldier's pleased expression crumbles.
Hamid, which won the National Award for
Best Urdu Film last week (and can be streamed online), is built on a
one-line premise: when the seven-year-old Hamid connects to Abhay, he
thinks he's on the phone with Allah. Why does Hamid so badly want to
speak to Allah? To urge him to send back his father, who disappeared
a year ago -- and who he has been told is now with Allah.
The film uses the cuteness of its child
protagonist in manipulative ways, draws out its one-line premise to
excess, and often feels stilted in its performances. But in scenes
like the one I described above, it opens up the possibility of
conversation. The innocence of the child asking the question forces
the adult to take a moment to confront his guilt – instead of
responding, as Abhay does the rest of the time, with a torrent of
thoughtless anger. In a time when all questions asked by Kashmiris
seem only to elicit taunting counter-questions, when both grief and
grievance is sought to be angrily bulldozed into compliance, such a
cinematic moment is of great value.
The child protagonist is not a new
device through which to view a conflict zone, and the effects do not
need to be childish or cloying. Think of the marvellous
clear-eyedness of Andrei Tarkovsky 1962 classic Ivan's
Childhood, of Ziad Doueiri's atmospheric
debut West Beirut (1999), Kurdish director Bahman
Ghobadi's moving Turtles Can Fly (2004) or Yosef
Baraki's underwatched Kabul-set film Mina Walking (2015).
But Indian cinema hasn't really got there yet, certainly not with
regard to Kashmir.
The best we seem to manage is the child
poised on the precipice of losing his innocence – which in the case
of Kashmir, seems to invariably involve losing him to a violent
movement for Azadi. In 2008, Santhosh Sivan directed a film
called Tahaan, also named for its child protagonist, and when I
went back to watch it this week (it is also available online), I was
amazed by how much it shared with Hamid. Sivan's film, like
Khan's, centres on a young boy with a missing father, and a grieving
mother who hasn't yet given up, but whose finances and hopes are fast
dwindling. Unlike in Hamid, the object of Tahaan's cinematic
quest isn't directly his father, the 8-year-old spends the film
trying to get back his donkey from a merchant (played, interestingly,
by Anupam Kher). But like Hamid, Tahaan contains
scenes in which the protagonist's mother makes a harrowing journey to
identify what might be her husband's corpse, and later, joins a
silent assembly of the Association of Parents of Disappeared Persons
(the APDP is a real UN-backed human rights organisation founded by
Praveena Ahangar).
Sivan's English title
for Tahaan was The Child With a Grenade, and his child
actor spends a lot of the film being roped into transporting -- and
almost throwing -- a bomb. There was a deep disingenuousness to that
film, especially the way it staves off the threat of violence to
produce an immediate, miraculous justice. Tahaan's
delusional ending made it a political travesty in the name of a
fable.
Ten years later, Hamid and his mother
have given up hope of his father's return. But the film's depiction
of their calm acceptance of this terrible injustice may be another
sort of delusion.
Talha Arshad Reshi, who plays Hamid,
has won the National Award for Best Child Artiste (along with three
others). But the total communication shutdown since Monday's
announcement of revocation of Article 370 and bifurcation of J&K
has meant that Aijaz Khan has been unable to share the news of the
awards with Reshi.
In July 2016, during one of the worst
shutdowns (after Burhan Wani's death), a ScoopWhoop reporter
asked six children in Kashmir what they thought of when they thought
of India.
“India is police who beats boys. I
hate India,” said one. “India is a cunning country.
They oppress us. If it would have been our own country they wouldn’t
have killed so many people. We don’t like to be with India,” said
another. “India is tyrant. India kills people and disappears
them. I want free Kashmir. I don’t want to be with India or with
Pakistan. I am afraid to go out. Policemen can do anything to me. I
can’t trust them. They can kill me. I rarely study. And I can’t
play outside. Who should I play with? The Indian army men on the
street?” said a third.
No Hamid is likely to talk to Abhay.
Even if his phone connects again.
Published in Mumbai Mirror, 11 Aug 2019.
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