Caste Aside

But it did not even occur to her to ask if the prospective threat of a groom not from her samaaj could be Dalit. If you called her prejudiced,she would have laughed in your face. She was just a product of her times. Some people just did not exist,or if they did,it was well below her sightline.

Hindi cinemas sightlines have had much in common with my long-departed grandma,who,till the end of her days,lived in a world blithely her own. The predominantly middle-class sprawling Hindu north Indian joint family has long been Bollywoods universe du jour: everyone else people of different caste,creed,and colour has been accorded Dalit status. Stay right there,in your designated corner,till we need you. Then come,finish up quickly,and go. Back to that corner.

At the opening job interview,the Dalit hero of Aarakshan is asked his name. Deepak,he says. Deepak what? Deepak Kumar. Aha,a man with no significant surname. The interviewers instantly assume that gotcha look as they continue to grill their candidate whos got where he has through merit and hard work,not through graft or,that extremely pernicious Indian word,pull. You know the moment he opens his mouth that first instance,hes done for. And that sets the tone for his characters fate: he gets to romance,yes,and spout a couple of incendiary dialogues,yes,but soon after,director Prakash Jha pushes him to the edges of the film,where he cools his heels till the climactic moments.

How different is Deepaks present-day trajectory even though he gets his girl,and a job,presumably,at the end of the film from that of Kasturi in the 1936 film Achhoot Kanya? The stunning Devika Rani plays the untouchable girl with whom the Brahmin hero,played by Ashok Kumar,falls in love: their pastoral romance is spiked by venomous comments from the villagers about the lower castes; and a tragedy is prevented solely by fate,not human agency,at the very end.

Loud affirmative action,and speech,is usually confined to a character whos not central to the story. One of my favourite flagrantly lower caste characters in Bollywood has to be Pannalal Chohar,a cop who is unafraid of his future,because his present is what he makes of it. Sanjay Dutt was terrific in this little role in Eklavya,but it was a small part that made up the parcel of Vidhu Vinod Chopras film. This edifice,says Chohar,pointing to the castle where the nobles live,has been made on the dead bodies of my ancestors. That speech,which Dutt delivers with bravura flourish,requires confrontation,but,in good Bollywood style,is used just as a provocative nudge,before being shoved aside.

Lagaans magical team has a spin bowler who has a big part in the match win,but hes called,yes,Kachra: literally,garbage. The lowered eyes of Nutans lower caste leading lady in Sujata are almost apologetic that the savarna Sunil Dutt has fallen in love with her. In one of those forgettable 80s movies,in which Tina Munim calls Rajesh Khanna home for tea on mummys invitation,she refuses to share the table with Shriram Lagoo,who plays a dark-skinned lower caste retainer.

And it is not a question only of caste: other religions,and faiths,too get short shrift. Hindu heroes are allowed to fall for Muslim women not the other way round but not without hectoring speeches. For the longest time,Muslim heroes and heroines were cloistered in Muslim socials,where they could play their nawabi games: the Hum Aapke Hain Kaun type family doesnt need any pollutants,thank you. Not only are there no other religions to be seen in most Bollywoods monster blockbusters,other than in the almost insultingly peripheral ways,the poor and the not-so-privileged have to be shown their place. Sidekicks,usually from a less-affluent background,can share the screen with us,but they are always them. South Indians have to be dark. Or nerds. Or both. Other Indians,if they are not of fair-and-lovely-mainly-Punjabi-descent-or-persuasion,may as well just stay home.

And dont even get me started on free-spirited women,who are practically invisible in Bollydom. What,youve got an opinion? Get thee behind that pallu.

shubhra.gupta expressindia.com