The Dance of Shiva’s Third Eye: A Lower Class Indian Woman Against the English Law of the Middle Classes in Damini(1993)

07.11.2016 (edited 14.05.2024)

Jai Maata Di! (Hail the Mother Goddess!)

Although it was appreciated in India and won a number of awards, the Hindi film Damini (1993) is largely and unfairly unappreciated in the West. It is one of my favourite films. What you see is an answer to the injustice of the middle classes that masquerades as legal truth. and how to base resistance against it. The resistance to the law is in the form of the image, idolatry and photography. The film is not obviously about vision and photography, although for those that see nothing and will try to stop others seeing, it is emphasised that photography is integral to the medium of film.

Damini is about English law, the remnant of British colonisation in India, and its relationship to vision, particularly the vision of a woman of the lower classes. Damini (‘the lightning’) is a lower-class girl that marries into a rich family and makes friends with the house-maid Urmi. Damini’s brother-in-law Ramesh (‘the ruler of Rama’) rapes Urmi, pinning her down below him with the help of his friends and Damini sees him doing so. Damini finally agrees to say what she saw in the court of law, but every attempt is made to exclude her lower class woman’s truth by the middle class which is fully in control of the western-derived legal apparatus, a truth in which the exploitation of the lower classes forms a continuum with the sexual violation of woman and her forced submission to masculine desire. Damini is indeed confined to the mental asylum because of her truth – the lawyer who goes up against her says that she is mad. Here, Damini is indeed driven insane.

Then, in one of the most powerful scenes in world cinema, Damini sees a procession of Durga Maa (‘the Invincible’, Devi Maa, the Mother Goddess, Mata Rani, The Mother Queen, Maa Shaktishaali, The Powerful Mother) in the streets accompanied by the common people through a window in the asylum and regains her memory. The look of the idolater upon the idol, the Mother and the multiple forms of Hinduism behind her, the last true religion of syncretism and one that is not organised around scripture (whatever its other faults), merges with an intense tandava, perhaps one of the most intense dance sequences on film. Damini (‘the lightning’) flashes and her energy is converted in Shiva’s dance, the dance of creation, preservation and dissolution. Shiva is Durga’s consort – her lover. Damini becomes the lightning because it illuminates the world in a flash – like photography and the writing of light.

The dance begins with the eyes and the eyebrows, as can be seen in the video. For it is the opening of Shiva’s third eye, the eye of power. It is a dance of vision. Damini’s bindi, the red mark on her forehead, represents the third eye. The story of Shiva’s third eye is traditionally associated with anger and the renunciation of desire, the renunciation of the desire for the middle class in the movie, it would appear, and the form of power that they represent. The dance is not a solo performance. It is directed at the enemies of the Indian lower class woman. The dance requires mastery of will and body, improvisation and the knowledge of classical forms. The dance is a fight which pre-empts the moves of its opponents, which enlarges and expands the body, which can suit the circumstances and adjust and adapt, which can bedazzle and confuse its opponents. The dance is a carefully constructed martial arts performance, like kata in karate. It is both exhibition and internal consciousness.

Shiva’s third eye is a vision bestowed from integration with the Mother Goddess. For Shiva, like Damini, is the one that loves the goddess – Shiva is Damini’s consort. The love of the Mother Queen and Damini’s bhakti returns her to herself and her vision and gives her the energy to fight for her truth, the truth and vision of woman and the lower classes. It allows her to fight against the legal system of the middle classes and flee the asylum. It gives her the force to say what she saw and destroy the forces of concealment and reorder the world.

The empowered Damini unites with a good lawyer who submitted himself to the desire of woman, his wife, in order to take up his occupation and she is triumphant. The good lawyer returns Damini to her alienated husband, he returns her to her love: he gives her back her desire. In one scene, the good lawyer calls himself a tiger: the tiger is the vehicle of the Mother Goddess, also known as Maa Sherawali, the Mother with or of the Tiger. The good lawyer’s wife, now dead, is only presented to us as photograph, the image. When one looks at the traditional images of Durga, the connection is clear. In an inversion of the picture of the rape that Damini saw, with woman pinned down by men, the Mother is above the tiger, it is her vehicle which she directs (the tiger itself is the national animal of India and Mother India). Above the law, there is the Mother and the law itself must only be the Mother. Thus, the quote by Mahatma Gandhi at the beginning of the movie which is said to have inspired it: “There is a higher court than courts of justice and that is the court of conscience. It supercedes all other courts”.

Damini’s justice is self-serving. It has an identity which it declares and serves, the identity of an Indian lower class woman. It is meant to protect a lower class woman that is her friend. Damini’s justice is based in emotion and empathy. She feels the hurt of another. Damini’s justice invokes a different form of power to the middle class men in power, a power that is feminised and derives its source from the mother and the sphere of the maternal. Damini’s justice is resistance: to serve not those in power, but those that are disenfranchised from power. In India, rapes are concealed by men so that the honour of their household is maintained. Thus, the powerful can prey on the weak. Damini’s justice exposes the act of making the less powerful submit to the powerful via gender in Indian society and calls for the public to claw back their honour. It is a film where justice operates in the honour economy and not the property economy of the West, where the white middle classes not only control the legal apparatus, but are also favoured by it as clients because they have more money.

The Birds; The movie ‘Indian’; Longing and Desire

09.05.2024

Ships. Homes. Cats, flowers. Doors. Birds. So many symbols there are for women. With the birds, I think of Leonardo Da Vinci and the dream of freedom.

Every symbol of woman, every assignation of identity questioned in an age that wants to tell us that there is only gender and its constructions, no essence that is being discovered. Writers like J. K. Rowling say that the idea of woman is being erased and cancelled.

What can one think in this age about women? What is permitted? And what is true? How can anyone ever know? Is it still possible to even speak about women without becoming a tyrant to be felled?

Across each of the camps they fight. And where are we, that look upon each camp with suspicion? That are never included because of the colour of our skins?

This is a piece of artwork which I was never able to post. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I don’t want to share what is my heart and my mind with others. So many secrets. So many knowledges. So many pictures, words, stories.

In the recent Hindi drama, they say that there is not much difference between love and revolution. Love is my revolution. The one that I can achieve by myself. The revolution that I dream about, the other one, that cannot be achieved by one man alone. But where are the men for that revolution? The world has stopped giving birth to men.

When I was young, I watched a movie ‘Indian’. A retired freedom fighter from India in his seventies punishes the corrupt world of the modern day nation state that took away his beloved daughter from him. He finds his strength again. The strength of freedom. It is one of the best Indian movies ever made. It is Tamil, not Hindi. I watched it in the Hindi dub. The music is a classic. Over and over again, I think of that movie and the freedom that India has still not attained because of the corruptions of the modern day Indian state and the roles that it calls for, the nature of its belonging. The marring and damning history of the modern day Western state that casts its nefarious shadow upon the world.

But there are those that come still from the age of freedom when we fought against colonialism, racism and oppression. My grandfather has not died in me yet. The spirit of Punjab has not died in me yet. And still, in Westernised India, there is hope. Because they are releasing ‘Indian 2’. The nostalgia craze has swept India. Let us hope that they do not destroy the meaning of this movie. Let us hope that the Indian is still the Indian. Inquilaab zindabaad! Long Live the Revolution! Inquilaab sada zindabaad! May the Revolution Live Forever! Jai Maa Kaali! Long live the Dark Mother!

My friend told me today that I have had the journey of the hero in this journey of love. I have transformed myself. But the transformation is not complete, I have told her. Because there is still the heroine missing from my life. Maybe it is never going to be Helen. Maybe there will never be a heroine. Do you know what my friend said? As long as you long, you have the heroine. As long as you have the desire, you have the heroine. The longing is there.

And Helen? How can Helen not know that I love her?

Surgery Required

11.04.2024

So, it turns out I’m going to have to have surgery on my leg. The doctor was a Subcontinental woman. Did she break the news to me in a nice way? No. I had about two minutes with her. And during that time, all she did was tell me off and make it out to be my fault. When it wasn’t my fault in any way at all. That’s what they are like. I can say it because I am Subcontinental too. You don’t get any sympathy. You get blame. I’m used to it. Even in the Indian movies, all the girlfriends of the heroes do is to criticise them and tell them off.

But at least two things didn’t happen: I didn’t die and they didn’t have to cut the leg off. I knew everything was okay. It is just the pain. And I will just have to put up with that. Why? Because life is pain. The only thing that can happen now is complications with the surgery and side effects, but there is a good chance that nothing bad will happen and it should all be okay.

Do you know how I developed this problem in my leg? I loved a non-Indian woman. And she didn’t love me back. Then my grandparents died and I got sick. And then I put on a lot of weight. Which ruined my leg. So that’s where the problem in the leg developed. I am still suffering from the past. And those people that tell you to forget about the past? What other problem have me and the Indian men in this country, and the Dalits or the Untouchables in India had except for the fact that no one will love us? The people that don’t love us are telling us how to solve our problems. And to forget the past and the present where they don’t love us. When our problem is that they are not giving us love. What a fucking joke.

Do you know what guilt is? When my grandmother was dying from cancer, I was living with her. She couldn’t sleep in the nights without a man in the house. One time, I came back home and I was talking to her before I went up to study in my bedroom. I talked to her for about half an hour. Because I felt sorry for her and thought she was lonely. She told my mother afterwards that when I was talking to her, she was going through the most torturous pain. But she wouldn’t tell me. She just kept on nodding at what I was saying. She didn’t want to hurt my feelings. I think about that over and over again. That is what guilt is. I couldn’t even see that she was in pain.

My Instagram feed is full of dating advice. It is always the same: don’t be a nice guy. Be a complete douche bag to the woman that you care about, be aloof from her, treat her like she doesn’t even matter. What a lovely world of love this Western society has created for its women. And some of these people have the gall to call me a misogynist when that is their culture and their ‘love’. Even the women themselves are saying they want the man to be like that. What a culture. If you love women, you are a sexist pig. And if you treat them like you hate them or don’t care about them at all, then you are accepted and you aren’t sexist.

I finally told someone in that context that there is someone there that I don’t like. I don’t like to talk about people behind their backs. I wouldn’t want someone doing it to me. It was a special situation of honesty. I don’t just not like them. That is me being euphemistic. And it is very unusual for me not to like someone in this industry, so that is saying a lot.

I asked my friend from another country if she would cook something for me for that context for lunch. So she said yes and she invited me to do dinner together and she would make me something then too.

I was thinking about Shiva and his stillness – the short note I wrote yesterday. He lies down below Kali when she is in her rage and in her destructive dance. He lies below the Ganga (Ganges) when she flows down from heaven. Do you know that Shiva is represented by the phallus? The lingam. That is his body. That is what is withstanding the flood of woman. How he is able to withstand the flood of woman’s power and to become united with it, to channel it and control it, to merge with it into creation, is by being the phallus below woman, completely still. It is a sexual thing. The woman is dancing on Shiva who is the phallus, or flooding down on him: that is the essence of the act of union.

I have never told anyone something peculiar about the name my mother gave me. Some of you who have been reading know how I got my name. Sunil Dutt saved the life of Mother India in the film of the same name. He rescued her from fire. While he was recovering in the hospital, she came to take care of him and then they fell in love. He played her son in the movie. The son married the mother. That’s why I call myself Oedipus and my life has been that of Oedipus. However, there is a little peculiarity in this love story. Because in the film, the mother kills the son because he rebels against tradition and culture and morality by trying to abduct the woman he loves from her wedding ceremony. My mother didn’t just name me for the one that marries Mother India. She named me for the one that rebels against Mother India too. There is a paradox in the name that she gave me. The paradox is that she named me after the rebel, he who rebels against everything and everyone. I am the middle child. I have been named after rebellion. I live for rebellion. The rebellion of love. You can’t escape from your name and the fate that has been planned and dreamt of for you. Try to escape your fate. See what happens to you. We rebel in the name of love for love. We are the warriors of love. Inquilaab zindabaad! Inquilaab sada zindabaad! Long live the Revolution! May the Revolution live forever!

How much longer can you love someone who is not in your life for more than five minutes in a week? That doesn’t talk to you? Who has rejected you twice? Who you have only talked to for about one hour in total in about six months? But are these the wrong questions? Isn’t the question, can you stop loving someone who you love? Despite everything?

Integration – The Way of the Tiger

06.04.2024

There is a reason my name is Suneel. I am named after Sunil Dutt. My Indian mother gave me this name. Because Sunil Dutt saved the life of the actress who played Mother India in the film. My mother named me shortly after the actress’s death.

You’re probably wondering what that has got to do with the idea of integration in this country. Everything.

I was discussing the issue of integration with my friend. She is an immigrant. So her position was that she should integrate into the culture of the host country. Because that is her choice. She came here. So that’s what she feels like she needs to do.

I am not an immigrant. I have been raised by immigrants here. And my mother – who raised me the most – chose to preserve our culture. Indian culture. Punjabi culture. So my situation is different. I didn’t have the choice to come here or to be born here. And? I have chosen Indian culture. Punjabi culture.

Just because everyone else is doing something, I am not going to follow like a sheep.

I am not going to change for force or for love. The power of India is within me. Six thousand years of power, the way of the tiger.

And I have seen the love that we get from this country for looking and being different as Indian men. They don’t listen to us. They don’t respect us. They don’t love us. We are the most under represented group in this country in literature, the arts, music, film, everything. If they are never going to accept us, why would I change myself for them?

They dishonour my mother every day in this country. They call India a nation of rapists. They call us misogynistic pigs. They are right wing racist and xenophobic extremists but that’s how they label India. They call us backward for supporting our culture and our ways. The women here won’t love us. And they want me to integrate?

The story my mother told me about Sunil Dutt wasn’t just about his heroism in saving Mother India. It was a story about honour too. My mother has given me the name to protect our honour, the honour of Mother India, which this society dishonours every day.

So that is why I don’t try to integrate in this country. I do things the Indian way. The way that I was raised. I think like an Indian person. I act like an Indian person. I listen to Indian songs and watch Indian films. If anyone tries to attack India, I attack them. I will fight for our way of life until the bitter end. They came into our country and forced us to follow them. I am in their country now and I will see how anyone forces me to do anything in my own home and in my life. Because here, there is one thing that is supreme. And that is choice. And my choice is India.

The Indian Vocabulary of Love and its Meaning

14.01.2024

I’ve been watching Hindi films since I was a child. It is how I learnt to speak Hindi (my language at home – my mother tongue – is Punjabi, not Hindi). Hindi speakers have many words for love. Not like English speakers. Here are some – Ishq, Aashiqi, Mohabbat, Pyaar, Prem, Lagan, Chaahat… There’s probably more. Hindi is a rich language.

Here are some more metaphorical ones, which touch on some of the ways that love is experienced and conceptualised in Indian culture:

Ibaadat – Worship. When you love someone, you love them like a god or a goddess. They are important, powerful, masterful over you. They rule over your heart. They take the place of a god or a goddess, commanding all your loyalty and faith. You trust them without question. You hope everything from them.

Aetbaar – Belief. When you trust them with your heart. You can rely on them without question. They are the one person in the whole world that you can count on the most to stay with you through thick and thin. You expect everything from them, total commitment.

Wafaa – They hold your loyalty. You will never stray from them. The trust and the bond between you is unshakeable.

Behosh/Mere hosh udhgayee – Unconscious/My senses have flown – How love is experienced. Your mind goes on a holiday when you see them, think about them, are around them. They command all your attention. You can’t focus on anything else.

Amaanat – They say that your lover (usually a woman) is your ‘amaanat’ (‘thing or property committed to the trust and care of a person or group of persons’ – https://rekhtadictionary.com/meaning-of-amaanat?lang=hi ) A red flag for Western feminists, but indicates the possessiveness that a lover will have over their sweetheart – and even in English, you still say to someone ‘You are mine’ or ‘You are my girlfriend’.

Here are some terms of endearment which further indicate what love means in Indian culture:

Jaanu/Janaam/Jaaneman – ‘My Life’. Love is for life. Your lover is your life. They are everything for you and they are for you forever, like your own life. They are precious like your life.

Mitwa/Yaar – ‘Friend’. Indian culture does not make a distinction between friendship and love between a man and a woman in this term. Which perhaps indicates the truth – that your lover is your best friend.

Humraaz – Someone who has the same secrets as you – you share your secrets with them. You trust them. They are the only ones you can share your most personal thoughts with.

Humnava/Humsafar – Someone who is a fellow traveller through life’s journey with you (the ‘ride or die’ chick). You are committed to the same journey. You have the same mission in life.

Humdum – Someone who has the same life force/breath (‘dum’) as you, your soulmate, someone who is the other part of yourself. The sense of connection, of seeing yourself in them.

Humdard – Someone who shares the same pain as you, because you are so connected. What you feel, they feel. They are the mirrors of you and you are the mirror of them (love’s mirror).

Huzoor – Master – they rule over you because you love them. And you accept their sovereignty over you.

Deewana – Crazy one – because you go crazy in love for someone.

See more terms of endearment from the Hindi movies here:

My Top 3 Love Stories in Indian Music Videos Recently

12.01.2024

Even if you lose in love, even if you win, the Indian viewer always has to see a love story. Why? Because of the dream of love. The dream of love keeps you going no matter what the reality is. You might not be able to find someone for yourself. Other people might not love you even though you love them. You might be perplexed why no one can love you and return your affections. What have you done wrong? Your relationship might be fraught with difficulties, stress and despair. But the dream of love keeps you going. Without that dream of love, why would you even want to live in this world? This dream, that one day, you will hold her hand, walk with her through the flowers, have dinner with her, sing a love song to her, write poetry and letters to her, call her up late at night, have a family and children with her, live with her, have her with you, talk to her forever.

So, after a not very good Friday night, I sat down at my desk by myself in my room at the laptop and watched three of my favourite love stories of recent times. When you watch them, as a man, you look at the woman. You fall in love with her. Each of those women remind you of women that have been in your life. So, when you watch the video, you can be with her. It makes you feel happy, no matter what is happening in your life and how far you are away from love.

Here are those wonderful music videos which give you the feeling of love and happiness in this hard world:

Peed (‘Pain/Suffering’) by Diljit Dosanjh

https://uk.video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?fr=mcafee&ei=UTF-8&p=Peed+by+Diljit+Dosanjh&type=E210GB885G0#id=1&vid=c7f882d584c30fd6b87715314690d640&action=click

A servant girl loves her boss. But the boss has a woman already. The servant girl has to serve her boss and the other woman. She has to love her boss in secret. Her boss is a writer. He keeps on throwing away the writing that he doesn’t want. She picks up each of the scraps of writing and keeps them with her in her room, concealed away. But the other servants know her secret and they support her secret love for the boss.

The servant girl cries when she sees her boss with the other woman. And each time that she cries, she kisses her tears and swallows them. They are painful and precious. It is what she is living on – the pain of love.

The servant girl is ill – the lyrics suggest she is terminally ill. She is coughing up blood. But in secret, just like her secret love which is pain. One day, the boss finds out both her secrets – the love and the death that is coming. He realises how much she loves him. So he gives her the love that she wants.

He takes the tears from her eyes and kisses them and swallows them. He ends it with the other woman. He looks after the beautiful servant girl and protects her from death. Love becomes the mirror against death: love’s mirroring which I have written about so much and which has affected my life so deeply.

The lyrics of the song are to serve someone in love whether they love you or not.

Every time I watch this music video, there are the beginning of tears. But I cannot cry. The tears never fall.

Tu Meri Roja – You are My Rose ((‘Kushi’ (Happiness) Film Soundtrack)

She has the same eyes and the same hair as the one that I thought was for me. She has the same facial expressions. She is her. All I think about when I watch the video is her. She may not have wanted me, maybe I am not talking to her now, but when I feel something for someone, it is there forever.

A woman is searching for a child. There is someone who accepts the quest to unite the woman with the child, her lover. But this lover meets the wall time and time again. Because the woman rebuffs all of his advances initially. She is not chaperoned – vulnerable. So she has to take extra care – she is Muslim and this is India. This is a society of sexual repression and sexual segregation.

But somehow, slowly, after rebuffing him over and over again… Somehow, he keeps on advancing and advancing – he never loses courage… Somehow they are falling in love with each other. Somehow he is managing to get close to her even though she is like Daphne that flies away from Apollo in the Greek myth.

It is the quest – they are both after a child. This is the game of love.

He cares for her on the quest. He bathes her feet. He feeds her. He would do almost anything for her.

Every time I watch this music video, I feel a sweet pain. I think about all the times I felt close to her. But towards the end, the music video feeds the ego. Because in this music video, when the hero is winning, I am winning. When he is looking into her eyes, I am looking into her eyes. And when she shows her hair, I am looking at her hair. When she makes the expressions on her face, I am looking at the expressions on her face. You can meet them again in your dreams, that is where they are yours.

Chal Tere Ishq Mein (Go in your Love) – Gadar (‘The Uprising’) 2 Film Sound Track

https://uk.video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?fr=mcafee&ei=UTF-8&p=chal+tere+ishq+mein&type=E210GB885G0#id=1&vid=46c09f515e7b8707c4cf6f90b61f0171&action=click

The story is everything. An innocent young woman loves a man who only wants to use her for his purpose (it is a good purpose though, to rescue his father). The video is the honesty and purity of her love, her unreserved trust in someone that she knows only used her to deceive her. And yet, despite that, she still loves him.

Love’s mirror comes in the video. She adorns herself for him in the mirror in a way that Western culture criticises, because she is submitting to the male gaze, trying to please the male gaze. But because she loves him, she will become beautiful for him – this is the Indian way (she is Pakistani in the film, but these are just labels). A man becomes attractive for a woman, a woman becomes beautiful for him. Beauty is a becoming, a service.

Then, when she looks in the mirror, she sees him (against Western culture – she is seeing him in herself, losing her identity for his). In Indian culture, love is death. You destroy yourself in love for the other. But this is about love’s mirroring – you become the other in love. She becomes the Indian man rather than retaining her identity as the Pakistani woman. She becomes the foreigner – he has come to her country. It is the love of difference.

I identify with the innocent woman in the video. Because my love has always been innocent. What do I want from someone, except a family and a child? I don’t expect anything from anyone except love and to spend time with them, even though I would ideally like them to run the household when we have a family together. I don’t put conditions on people, even though they act in ways that are not allowed in our culture which is a culture of sex segregation, chaperoning, no drinking or smoking and no late night parties, clubs and pubs. All I expect is that someone will want to live with me – and I live with my parents. It is other people that put conditions on me. Because they can’t love someone unconditionally and without trying to manipulate their love for their own ulterior motives.

When you look at this woman in this video, she is the woman of your dreams. What you believe of all of them in your life before you see what they say or do when they know that you love them, when you are still hoping that they love you just for you and for nothing else and will accept you for yourself. Without conditions and a use.

Mrs Chatterjee Vs Norway (2023) – My Bedtime Review

Mrs Chatterjee Vs Norway (2023) – My Bedtime Review

12.05.2023

‘They think that their culture is the best because their country is rich. And they think that we have no culture because our country is poor.’ – quote from the film.

I haven’t watched a film in about a year. I made a special point of watching this one. It was the true story that the film is based on which appealed to me. Mrs Chatterjee, an otherwise unknown immigrant, had her children taken away from her by the Norwegian state because she raised them with traditional Indian practices. As a result, she was declared unfit by the racist and xenophobic Western authorities that believed only their ways of bringing up children were right. However, this Indian mother fought against an entire country to get her children back, a fight that would escalate into a publicised political clash between Norway and India and her ultimate victory as it was proved that an Indian mother could be a fit mother. This fight was not just for herself. It was for all the immigrant families affected by the welfare law in Norway. It was a fight for diversity and difference.

What was my particular interest in this film? Firstly, in my family, we worship the fighting mother, Mother Durga, the Mother Queen who fights against sin, or Mother Kali. Mrs Chatterjee is a heroine based on this particularly Indian role for the mother. Secondly, I have watched Western people judging me silently or in words whenever I tell them about my family, upbringing or anything personal (because we are different as Indians). This quasi-legal arrogance – based on privilege bought at the expense of imperialism and neo-imperialism and its wealth – is particularly disgusting and it is what this film criticises and destroys. (Incidentally, Indian people are actually the majority in the world spread out over all countries, not Western people. If you believe in democracy (i.e. the rules of the mass), then we are right, not anyone else). Thirdly, my first published academic article on Indian film showed that the Western Oedipal complex (with its construction of the legal subject) is based on separation from the mother. This separation itself is based on xenophobia and misogyny directed at the Asian or Indian mother, something that the film attacks. Article link here:

So, having said all this, now to the review. Hindi films are the only medium which can make me emotional. This one did the job. However, I will not talk about this. What I will talk about is the idea in this film. Mrs Chatterjee – the immigrant, the poor, Indian woman – someone that has a precarious being in a country hostile to her – is denied a voice by Western law. Time after time in the movie she is told to be silent in the courtroom. Her son, who is taken from her, is also forced into silence by the brutality of the Western law which is supposed to put children’s best interests at heart. He stops talking. In contrast, the Indian law lets everyone speak, even when they have no locus or standing. All perspectives are allowed, all can say what they want to express. We cannot criticise the unjust Western law, the prostitute of power. The Western law can criticise us. This is one difference between the law in the film and the law in the West.

In the film, the father of the children abducted by the Western state only wants his citizenship at any cost. He doesn’t care about his children. He cares about money. This is a representation of the type of immigrant kept in precarity that will do anything at any cost to get money from the rich and powerful state. A state that he will not attack no matter how much it will attack him and his family, children and future. This is a real person who I have met many times. The slave that would not accept his emancipation in India’s Independence.

The film is not just about one woman’s fight. You have never watched the children turn into people that cannot speak their own language, know their own culture. That behave like the state loving fascists that spat on us, didn’t give us work, excluded us, turned us down and kept us down. The state has abducted our children in the state schools and we cannot do anything about it. But Mrs Chatterjee did it. She fought this abduction and she won. She was a poor woman without any resources. She was someone who couldn’t even speak the language. She was powerless but she fought the power. Like the Mother Goddess, she became Shakti (power). She defeated the arrogance of the state – like Gandhi. The one with nothing goes against the one with everything and becomes the greater. It is an Indian story. It is our history and who we are.

Against judgement, we protest justice. Against the state, we protest love. Against separation, we protest the union of mother and son. I am named after it. I am named after the actor that played the son of Mother India in the film and married her in real life (Sunil Dutt and Nargis). This is a film that reminds us that we are Indian (and by that, I personally mean the village, not the state. The people, not the politicians). And we will not accept a Western law which is based on separation from the Indian mother, no matter how much it is fed by wealth, power and the delusion of superiority.

Becoming a Woman: Revenge, Ethics, Law and The Wounded in a Hindi Film

13.10.16

Is it wrong to desire revenge? Some people suggest that it is. My own research into the Victorian period has shown that not only is the desire for revenge seen as irrational, being emotional, and unreasonable, but that it is also feminised. The desire for revenge is a transgressive desire which attacks the very foundations of Western rationality, the rationality and reasonableness of (white, middle-class) men. Perhaps the most famous example of this feminisation is Miss Haversham in Great Expectations which I read as a schoolboy, but it is also in other famous novels like Vanity Fair, where Miss Sharp favours revenge too.

It is with some surprise that I noted that revenge was also feminised in my favourite Hindi film, starring my favourite actor, Sunny Deol. The name of the film is Ghayal, which means, literally, “wounded”, although I believe the correct translation into English should be “The Wounded”, which would make a significant difference to the overall meaning of the film. Ghayal is not just a film, it is an entire philosophy, some of which I will try to make clear in this little piece. I return to the film when I begin to forget who I am and where I come from. The film is a revenge story. The villain kills the hero’s brother. He is framed for the murder and then an accusation that he killed his brother because he was having an affair with his sister-in-law leads her to suicide. The hero triumphs and has his revenge outside of the law. The film is divided into a number of sections, but the obvious structuring is to contrast everything that follows with a first happy period.

Female revenge is present even in the first happy period, which is full of comedy. One day, the heroine of the film travels to see the boxer hero at his training camp. Because he is scared that he might get sent home, he says to her that he doesn’t know her and tells her to go away. The hero is the only person in the world that the heroine loves and who loves her back. She has no family as her mother and father are dead. When the hero tells her to go away and pretends that he doesn’t recognise her, he is refuting his love for her and treating her as a non-person with no identity. He is excluding her and returning hate and apathy for her love. He hurts her badly, he wounds her absolute trust in him and herself, in other and self.

The heroine does go away. But then, the hero has to apologise. He finds her in a restaurant and tries to speak the words of love to her. But now, the heroine’s mind is concentrated on revenge. She tries to provoke the other customers in the restaurant by turning all of the hero’s words against him to insult them, saying that he has called people bald or fat, etc. She wants the hero to be beaten by the mob, she opportunistically manipulates them to give the hurt and the satisfaction that she will feel. The customers are equated with India – this is an explicit comparison that is made. But Mahabharat (Great India, or ancient India) is also invoked when the hero actually touches the heroine.

As soon as the woman is touched, she opportunistically uses the status of victim to further manipulate the mob. She pretends that she is a damsel in distress, she mimics completely passivity and helplessness. She calls out that the hero, who she pretends is a stranger, mirroring his refutation of her identity, has touched her and rhetorically questions the crowd: Is there no man among you (to protect me, to have the courage to protect me, to protect not only me but all women, the women that are your sisters and mothers)? Here is when the Mahabharat comes to the rescue in the form of Bhima. Bhima is perhaps most famous in the epic saga because of his relationship to women, law and revenge. Draupadi, the wife of five men, was dishonoured by Dushasana who vowed to keep her hair unkempt and unmanaged until they were washed with the blood of her oppressor. Bhima was one of her husbands and he vows not only to bring his wife the blood, but also to drink it. Their vows and laws are based on their revenge. The beginning of legality is based on revenge, the revenge of a woman.

The heroine only forgives the hero when he falls from an elephant in trying to win her over. It is only when the hero is hurt that the heroine is able to forgive him. He has now shared her hurt. He has felt what it has been like to have been in pain. He has hurt himself for her. This is love.

The main revenge story is also marked by its relationship to the law and feminisation. First of all, the hero is clearly “the wounded”. I was discussing wounds and their relationship to femininity with one of my supervisors – someone had questioned my tying together of the wound with femininity in a poem by Robert Browning at a postgraduate reading session – and she told me that the wound has indeed been historically been associated with women, which a number of commentators have noted. He has been hurt badly. The hurt is that his loved ones have been taken from him. But the hurt is not just the loss of his brother, who is murdered, but also his sister-in-law who is like his mother that commits suicide. She is murdered just as much as his brother because she is dishonoured and shamed by what the world has been led to believe about her and her brother-in-law. However, the main hurt has been from the law. The law rejects the hero’ hunt for his missing brother and then he is subjected to brutal torture when he is framed for his brother’s murder. It is in the courtroom that the accusation of the incestuous relationship with his sister-in-law is made that leads to her suicide and extinction, her non-identity. The entire legal system fails him. What he should have been able to trust does not help him, it takes away his love, what he loved most. It takes away that which gives him his identity – his family, the brother and sister-in-law that are like his father and his mother.

Thus, the hero’s quest for revenge is a quest for revenge against the law. It is explicitly stated that his campaign of revenge is a campaign against the law since it is a direct challenge to law and the rule of the law. Of course, this law is only there to protect the villain, the rich man who plays Western music on his piano. Yet every time the hero pulls the gun against the villain, he is impotent. The crisis of impotence reaches its head towards the end of the film. Yet, in the most beautiful scene of the film, when the hero’s campaign of revenge is about to fail and he is pounded by a group of policemen and the law which forms a tight circle around him, the heroine sees him as the victim. She remembers what it is like to be the victim. She knows its reality. She knows what it is to be the wounded. And it is woman and the wounded that help the wounded. They see the place of woman in the wounded. She gives him the loaded gun and he is no longer impotent. He shoots and he does not miss. He hands himself over to the police with a smile on his face and a child that he rescued from the villain, the child that was separated from his mother by the villain and snatched from her, separated from the one he loves the most, applauds. The crowd of the people applaud too. The hero walks beside the heroine who gave him back his potency, both towards the law.

On ethics and law. There is a structuring of five. Draupadi had five husbands. There are five in the family: the hero, his brother, his sister-in-law, the heroine and the evil uncle who is a lawyer, the one that makes the suggestion of the incestuous affair. The brother, before he dies, says that five fingers of the hand are not all the same. The hero has four associates in his desire for revenge (five in total), each of which fall, leaving only him. This is because in revenge, the only one concerned and interested and self-serving can carry out their revenge for themselves. The hero kills the evil uncle, the lawyer: the identity of lawyer, liar, must be eliminated. Law itself is a prostitute: it is said to sleep on the bed of those such as the villain, the rich man. It is not the sacred prostitute, it is the one that only serves the rich. Law is there to be hated. It destroys love and unity. It is the insertion of law and the lawyer into the family which leads to the dishonour of woman and her extinction. It is law that stops a woman becoming a woman and which threatens her integrity and existence.

There is a lot to learn from “The Wounded”. Hurt is only appeased by hurt. Because when the oppressor is hurt, it is then and only then that they learn what it means to be hurt. It is only then that they learn the disintegration of self and integrity. It is only then that they learn what it is to be a victim, to be woman. And all of the negative stereotypes associated with an angry and revengeful women are the very things that we need to be: touchy, sensitive. When we want to hurt the law, we have to attack the places that hurt most. We must take everything from the law and give nothing. We must be merciless and relentless. For it is only the execution of revenge that teaches empathy. It is there to eliminate the ego. The oppressor must be humiliated in a contest, in a duel. In the film, the hero kills the villain, but the real defeat of the villain is in knowing that the law which protected his vicious self cannot save him because he has hurt others. Either no-one must be hurt or all must hurt. This is the lesson of empathy. Hurt only desires further hurt. Hurt can only be satisfied by further hurt, by being placed in the exact same place and position that you place another through hurt. Revenge is the teaching of empathy and the production of emphatic persons, learning empathy with woman. This is what is law.

Music and Patriarchy: The Gendered Opposition of Bodily Performance and Bodily Abstraction

11.05.2018 –

Abstract: Women are seen as bodies, not minds. As such, they are seen as suitable for bodily performance in a patriarchal society rather than for composing music which is perceived as a non-bodily and abstract form of representation. This division between body and mind underpins the division between the private and the public sphere.
Keywords: Music, Feminism, Patriarchy, Body, Mind, Secret Superstar, Public, Private

Knowledge of the history of women’s musical practices is aided by a concept which I call ‘musical patriarchy’. The division of musical work into a largely male public sphere and a largely female private sphere is a trait of Western music history and also of many musical cultures from all around the world.
Lucy Green, Music, Gender, Education (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 15.

I was listening to some songs by Vidya Vox, the famous YouTuber recently. I had downloaded them for free off of her website. Vidya sings in a combination of Hindi and English, as well as other languages. She does cover versions of songs and mash-ups. I grew curious about the singer and her music, so I put her name into a search engine. It turned out that the music behind Vidya’s songs comes from her white husband. Here was yet another female singer that didn’t produce her own music and that traded on her Indian ethnicity and sex to entice audiences while relying on a masculine, Western sound and mind.

Racial dimensions aside for the time being, the question was, why were there so few famous female music producers both in India and the West? Personal experience, as usual, prompted the question. One of my amateur pursuits is singing and song-writing. I also compose the music for my songs and make the music myself. Although my musical education in England was peculiarly lamentable, I went ahead and learned how to do everything myself. Is my music perfect? Of course not. It doesn’t have a professional sound and even my singing is just recorded on the computer using the free and in-built software. However, the point is, that I can sit down and compose my own music and, if I had enough free time and money, I could produce my own tracks to a good standard. I could even lay down tracks for the melodies and sounds that I can invent in my head but am currently unable to represent in concrete musical form due to my lack of ability and skill in playing music. Why can’t more women do the same thing successfully?

One could gather various ideas to answer the question. I have put the quote at the top of this piece to show one possible interpretation. The argument is that women’s music is regarded as private, rather than public. It is men’s music that is regarded as public. However, what I want to argue in this short piece is that women are not admitted to the masculine sphere of music because it is a form of representation that is regarded as abstract, invisible and bodiless, qualities associated with men and not women. It is my contention that in a patriarchal society, women are regarded as incapable of mastering the abstract discipline of music and of transcending their bodily form to enter into the realms of thought and meaning. This is why there are so few famous female musical composers and why the ones that do exist are not rewarded and recognized for their efforts. https://www.billboard.com/…/female-music-producers-industry…

I want to start, as I often do, with a Hindi film which I watched. I am talking about the huge international success which was recently released, Secret Superstar (2017). I will not go into the story too much, nor criticise the type of feminism which was portrayed in the film. Instead, I will concentrate on the relationship between femininity, the body and music in the film. There is a young girl in the film that becomes famous on YouTube for singing in burqa which covers her whole body, including her face. The burqa makes her “bodiless” and as invisible as it is possible to be without advanced technology. At this stage of her career, the girl is capable of composing her own music and songs. She doesn’t need any man to guide her voice. She is both singer and songwriter, player and composer. However, the girl doesn’t want to be bodiless and invisible, because that would mean that she remains anonymous. She wants to be known. This desire to be recognised as a person, as a singer, to enter the public stage and leave behind the private sphere of the domestic, leads the girl to a famous male composer. It also leads her to abandon the role of music composer, a being that is invisible and bodiless because he, and it is usually a he, usually stays behind the scenes. She then becomes the voice for the male music composer’s music and finds success. The girl is therefore led into the patriarchal music establishment and away from composing her own music because of her desire to become a body with a recognisable face, to be seen as a woman with a woman’s body. She leaves the realm of abstraction, invisibility and thought to become a performing body, the face of music rather than its “soul”. Such is the brand of “feminism” in Secret Superstar: a female’s desire can only be to perform as a body, to become a voice. She cannot become one with abstract thought, invisibility and the abstract and non-bodily representation of music.

In fact, if you watch Secret Superstar closely enough, you will find that the girl rebels against all forms of abstract thought. Her rebellion is chiefly conducted against her father, who is an engineer and relies on the abstract disciplines of maths. She also rebels against her education in maths and science. The young girl supports her uneducated mother over her educated father and leaves education to do so, running away from school secretly. She even effects a separation between her uneducated mother and her educated father (in the film’s defence, he is depicted as an abusive father and husband). Clearly, the girl does not wish to remain within the realm of thought. She wants blissful ignorance and to be seen as nothing more than a body, to be accepted in the realm of the body.

My speculation is that Secret Superstar reflects the existing reality of music in a patriarchal society; that there is a gendered play between the bodily performance of voice and the abstract and non-bodily performance of music. To enter onto the public stage in musical performance, the rules dictate that women have to be seen as bodies, not as minds. It is men that are celebrated as being of the mind and having rational “souls”. It is men that can give birth to music, which is, of course, related to maths (look up Pythagoras and his ideas about maths and music if you don’t believe me). Thus we have an explanation of why there are so few successful music composers in both India and the West. I have argued at length about the relationship between the body and non-bodily abstraction and their relationship to the private and public spheres throughout my writing and I believe it informs most aspects of the society that we live in. The body is therefore supremely important as a site from which to make the resistance against the forms that constrain us and the female body is, I think, the supreme form which can fight against the forces of concealment, invisibility, pretended abstraction and universality. There is a further speculation: that the music that we all listen to and enjoy is founded in a masculine mind set and worldview. The very nature of our listening and auditory enjoyment is founded in patriarchy and its conditions. Films like Secret Superstar can reveal exactly what the nature of that patriarchal sound is and how it operates, if only we watch carefully and learn. One thing is clear: such a sound hates synaesthesia since it separates listening and sight, music and the body.