GE ASSIGNMENT

SUBMITTED BY: Taranum mahna

ROLL NO. : 1659

Q1. Show the impact of partition on women depicted in any two of the films based on
partition.

Examining partition to the medium of fiction, anthologies of narratives of the partition in

cinema give us an insight into the various personal experiences associated with the event.
The fiction writers use their work to relate personal experiences and memories filling in
gaps left by history and historiography. Memories and reminiscences helps to bring out the
personal and emotional element of the partition drama, something which history cannot ac-
complish due to its so called objectivity. When we look at an analyse the intersections of the
discourses of gender and nation formation and how these impact discussions on the partition
we see that the division of the country what is the single most important event in Indian his-
tory which is directly related to these two discourses
The literature that this event produced and the cinema which it inspired still send a chill
down one's spine. They make one realise that the hollow cast of the partition was perhaps
too big a price to pay for our freedom. Before discussing the literature in cinema of partition
which deals with women in the discourse of gender, one must keep in mind what it meant to
be a woman and how they experience of being a woman is related to partition history, which
is depicted in a lot of great movies of the indian movies.
We choose two movies which depict these issues accurately- Pinjar (2003) and Begum Jaan
(2017)

EXPERIENCES OF WOMEN DURING PARTITION

The women had harrowing experiences of the Partition they were raped, abducted, sold and
forced to settle down to a new life with strangers in unknown circumstances.
Later on when women adjusted themselves in new conditions and developed new family
bonds, they were traced and sent back to their earlier families. The governments were insen-
sitive to the complexities of human relationships. They also did not consult the concerned
women. Thus, the government undermined their right to take decisions regarding their own
lives.
At some places, women were killed by their own men to preserve their ‘honour’. Some
women might have been compelled to end their lives against their will.

During the partition between 75,000 and 100,000 women were kidnapped and raped.The
rape of women by males during this period is well documented, with women also being
complicit in these attacks.

Partition is one of India's most explored themes, more so the partition of Punjab. The rend-
ing of the Land of Five Rivers into two parts, solely because one side had a Muslim major-
ity while the other had a Hindu one divided a people who were Sikh, Muslim and Hindu,
but who were also Punjabi with a mostly common culture.

PINJAR

Pinjar (Skeleton) is based on a novel by Amrita Pritam. After you see the film, what lingers
is the feeling that it is a compelling tale worthy of narration, worthy of being made into a
movie.
All too often, Bollywood treats scriptwriters as extras who must be tolerated; the singular
belief is that a movie will sell if one puts together a good star cast, story be damned. Pinjar
will hopefully change that ridiculous notion; a good story is paramount and can overcome a
variety of shortfalls in the movie's narrative.

Pinjar: Of love lost and found

Pinjar, which is set in the Partition era, is about the sad position women occupied in our so-
ciety then, and continue to occupy today. Even when she is the victim of a crime, the
woman is the one who is blamed. She must pay the penalty so that the family's izzat (hon-
our) is not tainted.

Puro (Urmila Matondkar), daughter of the wealthy Mohanlal (Kulbushan Kharbanda) and
his wife (Lillette Dubey), leads a happy life in Amritsar. Her family returns to its village,
Chatwal, west of Amritsar, where her marriage is arranged with Shyamlal's (Alok Nath,
once again essaying the quintessential Punjabi lala) son, Ramchand (Sanjay Suri).
Puro's dreams of a happy future are shattered when, one evening, she is kidnapped by
Rashid (Manoj Bajpai). He is looking to settle a family score that goes back two genera-
tions.
Rashid, who has by now fallen in love with Puro, confines her to his house in the same vil-
lage. When he tells her they are getting married, a desperate Puro manages to escape.
But an even crueler fate awaits her: her parents tell her they cannot take her back. When a
heartbroken Puro heads to the village well, she finds Rashid waiting to take her home. They
get married but for, Puro, this marriage is akin to death. She wastes away, becoming a pinjar
(skeleton) who exists but has ceased to live.
Elsewhere, in a continuing effort to save the family izzat, Puro's sister Rajjo (Ishaa Kop-
pikar in a cameo that goes beyond item songs) is offered in marriage to Ramchand. But, in a
deviation from the book, Ramchand does not agree, so Rajjo is married to Ramchand's
cousin, while Puro's brother, Trilok (Priyanshu Chatterjee), marries Ramchand's sister, Lajo
(Sandali Sinha).
Puro cannot forget Ramchand and her family and dreams of being re-united with them.
Trilok, who has never given up his search for his sister, returns to Chatwal. He soon finds
out that she was kidnapped by Rashid and burns Rashid's farm, destroying the harvest.
Rashid is broken but refuses to seek revenge, pointing out that if someone's sister had been
kidnapped, this was the least he would do in anger.
Partition is announced and everyone's world comes crashing down. Ramchand's family is
forced to flee eastwards, towards India. On the way, they are attacked by a Muslim mob and
a pregnant Lajo, who had returned to her parental home to deliver her first child, is kid-
napped by a Muslim.
Puro meets Ramchand at a refugee camp for Hindus and he pleads with her to find his miss-
ing sister. Rashid promises to help Puro so that he may redeem himself in her eyes. Puro
finds the kidnapped Lajo and helps her escape safely back to her family. The scenes that fol-
low form the climax of the film.
Some aspects of the movie jar on the nerves. Right at the beginning, when the subtitle says
the period is August 1946, there is a reference to Viceroy Mountbatten (the viceroy then
was Wavell). Also, it would appear that the only reason the movie begins in August 1946 is
to show scenes of communal carnage, with a reference to the Direct Action Day (August 16,
1946).

The first half is too full of songs, all part of the need to show a happy family preparing for
the daughter's marriage. Alas, marriage scenes -- which offer the director a good opportu-
nity to insert songs and have his cast prance about in designer wear -- seem to have become
compulsory in Hindi films. While a few songs are perhaps inevitable, too many detract from
the film's overall effect.

Hindi films also find it difficult to handle scenes of joy and grief. To show joy, we have an
overdose of songs, Urmila pouting at her brother, ridiculous references to bhaiya and the
cast running around in circles. To show tragedy, there is an overdose of tears and melo-
drama. Nowhere are the emotions shown without exaggeration; in the end, they take away
from the storyline and the movie instead of adding to it.
The scenes that show Puro dressed as a typical Muslim salesgirl in the second half are over-
done. Worse, the film races through what should have been its most taut and suspense-filled
section; the way Puro enters the home where Lajo is being kept prisoner, the way she finds
her alone a day later, and the way Lajo is whisked to safety at night without any trouble are
all too glib.
But I would reserve the strongest criticism for the climax. In the end, Puro has to make a
choice between Rashid and Ramchand. She makes the choice, but the audience is not made
to understand her decision. The reason that motivates her decision is missing. This is a grave
error and leaves the viewer wondering why she does what she did.
If anyone deserves full marks, it is Muneesh Sappel. His sets are excellent and he has recre-
ated the 1940s with such flair. The faded posters of Mohammad Ali Jinnah, the old trucks,
etc, truly transport the viewer back some 50-odd years ago. The cinematography captures
the landscape wonderfully.
Pinjar is Dr Chandraprakash Dwivedi's debut directorial venture and, at times, the inexperi-
ence shows. It is also a brave effort by Urmila Matondkar to break out of the usual Bolly-
wood routine and do a meaningful film. Individually, both have done a commendable job,
especially Matondkar who, in parts, truly excels. But there are times when one feels she
needed a better director or that Dwivedi needed an actress with greater emoting abilities.
Credits for some fine acting must go to Manoj Bajpai and Priyanshu Chatterjee, both of who
deliver excellent performances.

BEGUM JAAN

The story circulates around Begum Jaan who is the owner of a kotha (brothel) – on the bor-
der of East Pakistan and India, who has over the years taken in women who had been sexu-
ally assaulted or ostracised by their families and society, and made them her own.
Talking about its plot, Whenever we talk about the partition, we always talk about the fami-
lies, businesses and their sufferings, but nobody talks about women, let alone prostitutes,
and their problems But Srijit ( writer and director of the film) wrote a story tracing partition
through the eyes of prostitutes.This is a story of women, who are trying to save their prop-
erty and can go to any extent for that, but the highlight is that the story is set on the back-
drop of partition which adds to their struggle.

These women took charge of their bodies, their sexualities and over the years used their
bodies to earn a livelihood, all under the guidance of Begum Jaan. The trouble starts when
the British are departing from India and partition is dividing the land into two countries, In-
dia and Pakistan. The Radcliffe line, which acts as the border between the two countries is
supposed to pass through the kotha of Begum Jaan and she and her women are asked to va-
cate the house. What follows next is a tussle for power and a struggle for existence which
escalates to tremendous levels.
Like every Bollywood film, there is a ‘hero’ who leads the film and the story surrounds the
life and activities of that ‘hero’. Don’t get me wrong, Begum Jaan is a women-centric film,
and all the women in the film are quite good in their performances. But what is problematic
with the film is that in order to stick to contemporary Bollywood trends, the film has centred
all its focus around the leading lady, played by Vidya Balan. And thus, what was essentially
a story of partition and the violence meted out towards women during partition, becomes a
film which mostly centres around the power which is yielded by the ‘malkin‘ of the ‘kotha‘,
Begum Jaan. The narrative of the film makes the character of Begum Jaan the source of all
limelight for the film, and Partition – the original ‘hero’ – takes a backseat.
Everything from the posters to the change in the name of the film screams the fact that Be-
gum Jaan is THE woman to be seen, this is her story. When the narrative of the film is ob-
served closely, the stark difference in the original and the Bollywood version are high-
lighted. The stories which are told by ‘Amma’, played by Ila Arun, are stories describing
women who are highly respected in the context of Indian history. Rani Lakshmibai, Sant
Meerabai, Begum Razia Sultana, were all strong-willed women who have fought against so-
cietal odds to uphold their place and their beliefs. Thus, one is convinced that the film does
try to show how a woman is trying to fight for survival and hold onto her power despite the
fact that there is a tussle for power in the political premise of the film.

Despite being so autonomous, Begum Jaan is still however, dependent on Raja Sahab
(played by Naseeruddin Shah) for her power and the existence of herself and her women.
She has to coax and woo him and fulfil his whims and desires in order to get hold of the
piece of land she resides on and keep it for herself. The director who creates the image of an
empowered woman, himself demolishes this image of empowerment here and then finally in
the end when Begum Jaan and her women slowly step back into the burning ‘kotha‘ and
happily immolate themselves, thereby performing what resembles a jauhar (mass immola-
tion by women to avoid capture, enslavement and rape, and to uphold the community’s hon-
our) as performed by Rani Padmavati. Thus, the tired trope of a woman’s honour (as situ-
ated in her body and chastity) being the single most important thing to preserve in society,
more important than death or suicide, is reinstated, destroying the progressive portrayal of
emancipated, sexually autonomous women that was initially created.

The clash in the images which are portrayed by the film created confusion in my mind, be-
cause what seemed like an empowering film in the beginning, reinstated the same patriar-
chal notion of women’s honour to be protected. Sex workers are on the one hand perceived
to be immoral and unchaste and are ostracised from the society in order to protect the hon-
our of domestic life. On the other hand however, when the country is being divided into two
halves, the honour of sex workers suddenly becomes important. Do their bodies then repre-
sent the country and the nationality which they belong to? Irrespective of social standin that
is thrust upon women by society, women, including sex workers, are seen to be defined by a
distorted concept of honour and virtue.
Whatever may be the case, Begum Jaan reinstates the fact that women are objects of desire
and also commodities which can be utilised in accordance to the kind of need that arises,
whether it’s for entertainment, or sexual desire, or for independence and nationalistic hon-
our.

Both these films acquaintance with how women were treated and how they suffered the ad-
ditional consequences of partition, the atrocities committed against them and the price they
had to pay for simply being women.