Source : INDIA TODAY NEWS
The first dialogues of period drama Batwara 1947 resonate with the mood of the nation at present. A crowd chants ‘Bharat Mata Ki Jai’ on the eve of Independence. Sunny Deol’s Sikander Mirza, a factory owner in Meerut, is enthused, distributing sweets and decorating the neighbourhood to celebrate the occasion.
His is the Nehru jacket-wearing Muslim with no kohl under eyes or cap on head. Soon, he realises that his allegiance to the new nation is irrelevant as his loyalty is only determined by his faith. Muslims, he discovers in disturbing manner, are no longer wanted in Bharat. A reluctant, forced migration via train happens.
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There have been plenty of Partition stories in Hindi cinema, but filmmaker Rajkumar Santoshi’s Batwara 1947 takes the road less travelled. That’s because it is an adaptation of Asghar Wajahat’s popular play Jis Lahore Nai Vekhya, O Jamya E Nai, which sees the horrific chapter predominantly through the lens of Muslims who lost lives, livelihoods and homes.
The film’s central character is a Muslim who refuses to let hate consume him as humanity around him crumbles. That considerate tone is in stark contrast to the current populist themes of revenge and hypernationalism in Hindi cinema when it comes to tales involving Pakistan.
The cause celebre of the narrative is Durgavati Devi (Shabana Azmi). Mirza and family find her in a kothi (mansion) named Durga Niwas, which they have been allotted in Lahore after spending weeks in the relief camp. Devi refuses to leave her home until her son returns. While she is accommodating of Mirza, his wife and their two children, they themselves are wary and irritable with her presence.
Words like “bala” (trouble) and “budhiya” (old woman) are used as the family deliberates how to get rid of her. But empathy has strange ways to make its way into people’s hearts, and in this case Mirza’s wife (Preity Zinta) reasons that it’d be inhumane to do so. The coexistence of two faiths and their different ways under one roof is entertained. Until a few rotten apples stoke trouble on grounds of religion.
On paper, it all sounds idyllic. But in Santoshi’s rendering of it, there’s Sunny Deol, hence plenty of screaming and punches—both verbal and physical. All of it is to smash in its messages, which are delivered at frequent intervals through hard-hitting dialogues disguised as slogans penned by Santoshi and Wajahat.
They include lines such as “Main woh karoonga joh mera imaan kehta hai” (I will act according to my conviction), “Koi mazhab bura nahin hota; achcha bura aadmi hota hai” (No religion is evil; people are). There are also sermons on the true meaning of Islam and what it means to be a good Muslim—“Zaalimon ko Allah pasand nahin karta” (God dislikes tyrants). Sadly, the well-meaning crusade for inclusivity and peace between two nations/religions loses its potency to loud, in-your-face treatment and some hammy performances (Abhimanyu Singh, Karan Deol in particular).
There’s lot to dig into here on how violence begets violence, the perils of mixing religion and politics, and the complicity of those who watch violence unfold silently. But a noble agenda has limited appeal if it isn’t backed by adept filmmaking. It’s not that Batwara 1947 won’t make you tear up or root for Mirza as he comes to the rescue of his “Maa” (there’s even a nod to Deol’s Tara Singh and the water pump in Gadar in one fight sequence), and espouses for harmony and brotherhood. It’s just that they don’t take away from the soap opera-like storytelling. So much so, Azmi’s Durga and Ali Fazal’s shaayar (poet) Habib Anwar, with their understated tones, seem to exist in a parallel universe.
Batwara 1947 ends on a sombre note and with a belief in the inherent goodness of mankind even amidst chaos and cruelty. Laud you may it for its purpose, but simplistic, cloying ways and an uneven pitch severely undercut the drama’s overall appeal.
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SOURCE :- TIMES OF INDIA
