Sudhir Mishra is a maverick. Sometimes when you watch his films, it’s a punch in the gut -- one so hard that you feel the pain in your heart. His latest symphony Afwaah is one such film, and it does not have a single false note. This piece is not a review of the film. For that you must go and watch this orgy of modern-day India’s fault lines.
Afwaah is a mirror and, like the adage goes, a mirror never lies. India is trapped in a quagmire of afwaah (rumours).
Social media is gospel and whatever it serves is kosher. IT cells have mushroomed and specialise in making fake news viral. And with smartphones in every nook and corner of the country, a mischief, a lie can be manufactured and made viral within minutes and as always is detrimental to the fate of the marginalised and the minorities.
Nawazuddin Siddiqui in a still from Afwaah.
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
The Terrifying Truth of 'Afwaah'
Political parties know this. And they are using it quite efficiently against us. Against India. Politics in India has always been murky, with utter disregard for people. It’s a cliché now to say that politics is a dirty business. But the game has now reached a nadir. The memory of Mohammad Akhlaq’s lynching in 2015 refuses to fade away. Little did we know that he was just the first of many victims of a rumour. There have been many since.
What Afwaah shows is a terrifying truth that a politician can easily engineer a riot, a lynching without being personally involved and, more importantly, being totally detached and unaffected by the mayhem under the garb of, “kabhi kabhi karna padta hai."
For some of them, it's not even ideological or religious. For them, it's just what the rules of the game are. How easily some of the politicians detach themselves from their monstrous selves while at home should put a metaphorical snake to shame. I am reminded of a chilling fact about one of the most powerful in Hitler’s inner circle – Heinrich Himmler – who once wrote a note in his daughter’s notebook saying something like, “be kind to other human beings”.
Sumeet Vyas in a still from Afwaah.
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
An apathetic feudal politician anywhere in the country has an army of sycophants who will kill for him if it suits his narrative. His job is simple. He just has to organise a rally in the minority neighbourhood and give a provocative speech. The rest will be taken care of by his goons, who feel special because of their proximity to “bana”. Human beings are mercilessly lynched while “bana” goes back to his polo after a normal day in office. Little do these “handymen” know that in this orgy of violence, even they can be sacrificed at the altar of feudal, political ambition. A rumour is a proverbial snake that eventually starts eating its tail.
Afwaah Exposes the Liberal Elite, the Hollowness of their Politics
Afwaah, with a very intelligent plot, points a finger at a different lot too. The so-called liberal elite and the kind of exclusive spaces and literature festivals they have curated for their own intellectual masturbation are not spared either.
The snobbery of this elite band, the hollowness of their politics and how devoid of humanity these exclusive spaces are, has never been so stirringly depicted as by Sudhir Mishra in the film. He doesn’t mince his words and expression to expose the elite.
The exposing of liberal elites is an allegory and one of the many high points of the film. It's funny and dark at the same time. For too long these spaces and fests have enjoyed the luxury reserved only for a certain class. It’s caste system repackaged. As discriminatory as the original.
It's like a walled city, shielded by privilege. Anybody outside the wall is not allowed an in. All political stands are taken in a safe echo chamber inside the walled city. The lot celebrates democracy, diversity, art and literature within the confines of their fortress while humanity is stabbed knocking at the door begging for it to open. But the door remains shut.
Bhumi Pednekar in a still from Afwaah.
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
We all are just one afwaah away from being lynched by a mob, the film reminds us. Such is the nature of the beast.
“How did you manage to get this film past censor board?”, I asked Sudhir after the Delhi screening on 2 May. “Array, bas bana di yaar”, was his answer. Indeed, more than censorship, it’s the self-censorship that is dangerous!
(Sanjay Rajoura is a comedian who is also part of the 'Aisi Taisi Democracy' team.)
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