It is India’s 58th “Independence” Day. But I am not celebrating. I have decided to follow Mahatma Gandhi’s example. He did not celebrate. On the contrary he was in virtual mourning at the partition of his beloved India. “Over my dead body” he had said. And it turned out to be just that. He was heart-broken, having been abandoned, some would say betrayed, by his closest lieutenants who did not have his vision. They had decided, come what may, to not only accept Partition but also to accept the pace at which it was being forced through – a pace set by the King’s cousin with plenipotentiary powers and a consort with the necessary charms to help smooth the passage.
The more I read about it, during my current researches for a projected film, the more I am astounded and ashamed at the picture of my esteemed heroes (who turned out to have had feet of clay) behaving like naughty school children in front of a stern headmaster admonishing them with “You do as I say or else..” It is humiliating to be reminded of that page-a-day “bloody” calendar which Mountbatten had distributed to the Indian leaders and of wh ich he made them tear off each page in his presence as his deadline ( never was there a more appropriate word ) for the Partition approached. I call it a “bloody” calendar because I see drops of blood spraying off the pages as each page is torn off the calendar. I find it humiliating to think that after decades of fighting the good fight in pursuit of Purna Swaraj (complete Independence), and after having rejected, in 1942, the offer of Dominion Status in an undivided India after the War as “a post dated cheque on a failing bank”, our leaders, in 1947, accepted an outdated cheque on a failed bank — Dominion Status in a divided India. And, to add insult to injury, they entreated and persuaded Mountbatten to hold the highly symbolic office of the first Head of State of a “free” India. But they rejected out of hand Gandhi’s suggestion that, for the sake of keeping India united, they offer the Prime Ministership to Jinnah.
And all the time as our leaders squabbled over the spoils, the country burned, the innocents died in their hundreds of thousands and millions were uprooted. A composite and beautiful culture evolved over a thousand year of mutual association was damaged almost fatally. A great language with the poetic richness to match the finest language in the world, and nourished lovingly by the likes of Pandit Ratan Nath Sarshaar, Pandit Diya Shankar Kaul Naseem, Pandit Brij Narain Chakbast, Professor Raghupati Sahai Firaq, Munshi Prem Chand, Krishan Chandar, Balwant Singh , Mahindar Singh Bedi, and some Muslim-sounding names like Meer, Ghalib, Anees, Azad, Akbar, Iqbal, Josh and Faiz, became a victim of the politics of Partition. And that politics continues to this day.
Partition has created more problems than it was supposed to solve. We are still quarrelling over Kashmir, We are still fighting over mosques and temples and threatening to destroy more of them. We are still torching train compartments and then using that as an excuse to torch whole localities and kill and maim and rape with the apparent connivance of the “authorities”. We are still spending billions on acquiring arms to defend ourselves from our own kith and kin.
I could go on. But I think you can begin to see why I have no great enthusiasm for celebrating a lie—the two nation theory that has since been blown sky high by one event after another but which formed the basis of the instruments of surrender signed on 15th August 1947. I take my cue from Mahatma Gandhi, the only sane person in a house gone stark raving bonkers.
Talking of Partition, I have often wondered why the great Indian film industry has tended to fight shy of this arguably the most traumatic and noteworthy event in the history of India, recent or otherwise. Indian film-makers, by and large and with notable exceptions of course, have either ignored it or trivialised it.
I found the answer to my question in the latest edition of that excellent film journal SOUTH ASIAN CINEMA, edited by the dedicated film historian, journalist and broadcaster Lalit Mohan Joshi. (www.southasiancinema.com). The beautifully brought out edition is devoted to Partition Films and is a mine of valuable information on this important subject presented in a tasteful, entertaining and eminently readable format with ample illustrations. The emphasis on Nirmal Ghosh’s CHHINNAMOOL, on the Cinema of Ritwik Ghatak, on Govind Nahalani’s TAMAS and M.S. Sathyu’s GARM HAWA is entirely proper. The comment by Kusum Pant Joshi on Chandrraprakash Dwivedi’s debut film PINJAR and Maithilli Rao’s comparative study of PINJAR and talented Pakistani filmmaker Sabiha Sumar’s courageous film KHAMOSH PANI are noteworthy contributions, and Munizha Ahmad’s authoritative analysis of GARM HAWA was a revelation and a pleasant surprise. But for me as a filmmaker currently co-writing the script for a feature film, the five exhaustive interviews by Lalit Mohan Joshi were particularly rewarding, especially the ones with Shama Zaidi and Shyam Benegal. Towards the end of the interview with Shyam Benegal, Joshi wants to know why Benegal never deals directly with Partition. You have to read the journal for Shyam’s answer, but my own guess is that he is still looking for the right script that could do justice to the subject and suit his very special style of filmmaking.
Watch this space.
-Yavar Abbas
Date: 15th August, 2004