A surly woman, a palatial house and the effects of time on both of them – that’s Dear Maya’s premise. However, this is barely the tip of the iceberg, like only looking at the conscious mind, while the uncharted subconscious patiently sits in a corner, waiting to be explored.
The film is about a woman who appears to not have looked in a mirror in twenty years. No, that wasn’t intended as an insult. Keeping her disheveled appearance aside, Maya Devi probably has not looked in a mirror in twenty years because there is no reason for her to. She does not meet people, hardly ever steps out of her house, lives alone with her pets (read: half a dozen cages of birds and two potentially cute looking, albeit huge, Great Danes) and seems to have zero interest in life beyond this.
The Many Dolls of Maya Devi
Maya Devi sits by herself in a dingy room painting poker-faced dolls garbed in black. The sight of heaps of dolls (quite literally), dumped untidily in a corner is a representation of her loneliness, a reminder of the days a woman has spent by herself making dolls to kill time.
Dressed in clothes disturbingly similar to Maya Devi’s own, the dolls further accentuate her distance from human interaction.
The House, Oh, The House
The humongous house, inhabited solely by Maya Devi and a grim domestic help/caretaker, doesn’t simply emphasise her isolation, but also comes to stand as a metaphor for her mind. Maya Devi is trapped not only within the confines of her house, but also in the confines of her mind.
When she opens herself to love and hope, the dust-covered windows are also thrown open to sunlight.
The Space of Women
Dear Maya explores different aspects of relationships between women. The trajectory of a friendship, a mother-daughter bond and Maya Devi’s relationship with two teenage girls via their letters are all part of the narrative, and explored skilfully.
The men in their lives take a backseat as the film revolves around these bonds. Within the major plot of the protagonist trying to find Maya Devi after she disappears from Shimla, is the sub-plot of two best friends having drifted apart. The film’s attempt to explore the possibility of them finding a way back to each other would send many down their own memory lanes of pitfalls and reconciliations.
Dear Maya is a brave and successful attempt at exploring loneliness, isolation, alienation and the power of love and hope over these. Though the film loses some of its pace in some parts, and has a more sentimental second half than the first, on the whole it is a celebration of women-to-women relationships.
The opening of Dear Maya offers dark images that are disturbing and eerie – seemingly everything they were intended to be. Additionally, Manisha Koirala as the grim Maya Devi has made a wonderful comeback. The nuances (a slight twitching of the face, the instinctive recoiling from sunlight) that she has brought to the character of a woman locked away from the world are worth a mention.
Watch Dear Maya on a quiet afternoon and you won’t walk out of the theatre feeling disappointed.
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