Win tickets to Firaaq

There is little respite in Firaaq. Nandita Das begins her debut film with scenes from a mass burial. Bodies are dumped from a truck like trash.

Firaaq is set in Gujarat one month after the horrific 2002 communal riots, which left according to Human Rights groups some 2,500 people, mostly Muslims, dead five years ago, although officials put the toll at about 1,000. The film is a fictionalised account woven out of, it says, “a 1000 true tales.”

Several stories unfold. These aren’t connected in any obvious way but each one explores the aftermath of the bloodbath, the anguish, fear and loss. There are no scenes of actual violence and yet violence permeates the frames. You know that at any point, randomly, the anger and loathing will spew into something unspeakably ugly.

Firaaq delves into all demographics. So, we have an affluent Hindu-Muslim couple, who are preparing to shift to Delhi because Sameer Shaikh, played by Sanjay Suri, is afraid of what else might happen. A meek, abused middle-class housewife, played superbly by Deepti Naval, is haunted by guilt because she did not open her door to save a woman who was running from the mob. Shahana Goswami is the fiery Muneera, a poor Mehndiwali, who is trying to rebuild her life after her home has been burned down and Naseeruddin Shah is Khan Sahab, a musician, who at one point, bent over with age and grief and resignation simply says: Sirf saat suron mein aisi kabliyat kahan ki aisi nafrat ka samna kar saken.

In 24 hours, these and several other compelling characters live out a lifetime of pain. We know that in this world, dark clouds don’t come with silver linings but thankfully, Das does give us a sliver of hope as Khan Saheb and two of his disciples, both Hindu, strike the chords again.

Interweaving stories requires impeccable skill and control as films like Crash and Babel have shown us. There are areas in which Das, a first-timer, stumbles. The pacing drags and the transitions become clunky. Also, Sameer and his wife exchange far too many stilted English dialogue such as: “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you.”

But I recommend that you look past these shortcomings. Firaaq, which means both separation and quest is a brave and compelling film. It will disturb your sleep and make you ask uncomfortable questions. Firaaq correctly and quietly implicates us all. It is essential viewing.