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By:

Abhijit Joshi

31 August 2024 at 10:09:24 am

Sunetra Pawar’s Trial by Fire

The greatest challenge before Maharashtra’s first Deputy CM is not merely to govern, but to forge a political identity that is unmistakably her own. Politics often rewards the loudest voice. The modern political arena thrives on sharp sound bites, relentless television appearances and instant responses on social media. Yet, some leaders begin their journey not with thunder but with quiet resolve. Maharashtra’s Deputy Chief Minister Sunetra Pawar finds herself at precisely such a moment. In...

Sunetra Pawar’s Trial by Fire

The greatest challenge before Maharashtra’s first Deputy CM is not merely to govern, but to forge a political identity that is unmistakably her own. Politics often rewards the loudest voice. The modern political arena thrives on sharp sound bites, relentless television appearances and instant responses on social media. Yet, some leaders begin their journey not with thunder but with quiet resolve. Maharashtra’s Deputy Chief Minister Sunetra Pawar finds herself at precisely such a moment. In recent days, she has been drawn into an avoidable political controversy after the Maharashtra Congress dubbed her as “Gungi Gudiya” (“mute doll”) following a media interaction in which she chose not to answer journalists' questions. The remark quickly snowballed into a wider debate about the language used against women occupying high constitutional office. It also revived memories of the same epithet once directed at late Congress Prime Minister Indira Gandhi before she went on to become one of India’s most formidable political figures. Until recently, Sunetra Pawar remained largely outside the glare of frontline politics. She was better known in Baramati for her work in education, healthcare and social welfare than for fiery speeches or electoral campaigns. Her public image was that of a composed, private individual who preferred institution-building to political theatre. Political Limelight That changed in 2024 when she entered electoral politics, contesting the Lok Sabha election from Baramati against her sister-in-law, Supriya Sule. Though unsuccessful, she later entered Parliament through the Rajya Sabha, where she quietly focused on organisational responsibilities and social initiatives rather than cultivating a high-profile parliamentary persona. The defining moment came in January this year with the tragic death of her husband, Ajit Pawar, one of the state’s most experienced and influential political leaders. His passing created a political vacuum within the Nationalist Congress Party. At a moment of uncertainty, Sunetra Pawar stepped forward to shoulder responsibilities that few had imagined she would inherit so soon. Within days, she became Maharashtra’s first woman Deputy Chief Minister - a milestone in the state’s political history. But such transitions are rarely straightforward. Political parties often struggle when towering personalities disappear, and observers had predicted that the NCP might witness internal divisions. Maintaining organisational cohesion during a leadership transition is itself a considerable achievement, particularly in a state where political loyalties are often fluid and intensely personalised. However, much of the public conversation around Sunetra Pawar continues to be framed through comparisons with Ajit Pawar. The contrast is obvious. Ajit Pawar was known for his decisiveness, administrative grip and unmistakable public presence. Sunetra Pawar, by contrast, has generally remained soft-spoken, measured and reluctant to engage in unnecessary confrontation. Her supporters see restraint, dignity and maturity but critics see hesitation and insufficient public engagement. Neither assessment is entirely unfair. That is why the recent Beed incident acquired significance beyond a routine press interaction. When reporters sought her comments on law and order and she chose to leave without responding, the political vacuum was quickly filled by her opponents. The Congress’s “Gungi Gudiya” remark predictably provoked protests from the NCP and criticism from leaders across the ruling alliance, many of whom argued that such language diminished the dignity of a woman holding one of the state’s highest offices. Sunetra Pawar’s own response was notably restrained. She said she would offer a “fitting reply at the appropriate time.” The remark was consistent with the temperament she has displayed since entering public life. Leadership is ultimately judged not only by composure but also by visibility. Every major political figure eventually reaches a point where inherited legitimacy must give way to earned authority. Indira Gandhi had to step beyond Jawaharlal Nehru's towering legacy before she was recognised in her own right. Rajiv Gandhi, too, had to emerge from the shadow of Indira Gandhi while navigating extraordinary political circumstances. Their journeys were shaped by vastly different contexts, but they illustrate a universal truth: every successor must eventually become an original. Sunetra Pawar now confronts a similar, though far more modest, challenge. She must cease to be viewed primarily as “Ajit Pawar's wife” and come into her own. Distinct Identity That transformation cannot be achieved through symbolism alone. After all, lasting political stature is built through decisions, administrative outcomes and public confidence. To her credit, she has remained engaged with governance, regularly attending official programmes, reviewing development projects and interacting with citizens instead of chasing daily headlines. Yet the next stage of leadership demands something more. She will need to engage more confidently with the media, articulate her government's priorities in her own voice, and establish an administrative record that reflects independent judgement rather than inherited expectations. These are demanding tasks, but they are neither unusual nor unattainable. It is still too soon to measure Sunetra Pawar’s political legacy. She assumed responsibility at a moment when both her party and the state were adjusting to an unexpected transition, and has so far navigated that passage with composure. Yet political inheritance has a limited shelf life. While quietness, in itself, is neither a virtue nor a weakness, it acquires meaning only when it is accompanied by clarity and conviction. If Sunetra Pawar is to leave an enduring imprint on Maharashtra's politics, it will not be by echoing the style of Ajit Pawar or by answering every taunt from her opponents. It will be by developing a public voice that reflects her own instincts, her own priorities and, ultimately, her own leadership. (The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)

IFFI and the Expanding Meaning of Cinema

From AI experiments to restored classics, the 56th edition of IFFI has widened the frame of Indian cinema and hinted at where it is headed next.

Last month, on the sunlit banks of the Mandovi River, the western Indian state of Goa once again transformed into a brilliant mosaic of reels, voices and visions. From November 20 to 28, the 56th International Film Festival of India saw Panaji turned into a carnival of stories, with each frame a portal to distant lands, untold lives and uncharted ideas. For filmmakers, critics and cinephiles alike, the IFFI is akin to a yearly pilgrimage, a space where the imagination of India meets the imagination of the world during the eight days the festival lasts.


Hundreds of films from around the world, along with their creators, scholars, technicians, artists, and directors associated with various aspects of cinema, come together during this event. It provides an opportunity to interact with them, understand their perspectives, and exchange views on what is new in their regions, countries, cultures, languages, and societies, and how these aspects are reflected in their films.


While this year’s 56th edition of the IFFI was no different, it sowed the seeds of several new ideas and shed light on many emerging aspects of the film industry. It is important to understand what these were and how significant they may be for the future of Indian cinema.

For the past two or three years, AI has cast its spell across artistic and non-artistic fields. It has also posed serious challenges to many sectors. Recently, Hollywood writers even staged a symbolic strike demanding restrictions on the use of AI. During the same period, several painters and graphic artists expressed their opposition to AI on social media using the “No AI” tag. At present, many Hollywood films prominently display in their credits the statement, “This film does not use AI.”


In parallel, musicians and composers have debated the role of AI in generating scores, recalling earlier controversies over synthesizers and digital editing, which were once feared to replace human skill but ultimately expanded the boundaries of musical expression.


Against this backdrop, IFFI, instead of simply opposing AI, created a space for constructive discussion on how this new technology could benefit the film industry and enrich the art form. The festival director, renowned filmmaker Shekhar Kapur, conducted two interview-style masterclasses on the subject, demonstrating how AI could be used in positive ways. He is currently producing an AI-based film, a glimpse of which was showcased at IFFI.


Special Hackathon

Additionally, for the first time, IFFI organized a special hackathon for AI-generated short films, an AI film festival, and a competition to create an AI short film within 48 hours. Several of the short films presented at this hackathon explored imaginative storytelling techniques, showcasing how technology can expand cinematic possibilities. These initiatives clearly positioned AI as an opportunity rather than a threat. Given this approach, it would not be surprising if the number of AI-generated short films at IFFI increases in the coming years.


In recent years, the number of women directors has increased significantly in India and across the world. Women have long been prominent in short films and documentary cinema, but they are now also directing full-length feature films with confidence and artistic maturity. However, in India, except for Kerala, the work of women directors has not received sustained visibility at major film festivals.


In Kerala, a dedicated film festival for women directors has been held for several years. As a result, film enthusiasts, scholars, and filmmakers have been demanding that IFFI give due recognition to women directors and provide them with a suitable platform. This year, IFFI finally gave concrete shape to this demand by introducing a special section featuring nearly 50 films by women directors from India and abroad.


Similarly, in other sections of the festival, an emphasis on women’s independence and empowerment was clearly visible. Films such as ‘The Blue Trail’ - the opening film of IFFI - which traces a young woman’s journey of self-discovery across rugged landscapes; ‘Shape of Momo,’ ‘Girls on Wire,’ ‘Laapataa Ladies’ – the wonderful dark comedy about women reclaiming agency in a patriarchal world, and several others reflected this focus.


The restoration and presentation of older films emerged as one of the most significant features of this year’s IFFI. Many films made on celluloid in earlier decades have become difficult for contemporary audiences to watch due to scratches, fading, or damage caused by inadequate preservation. Over the past few years, the National Film Development Corporation has undertaken the restoration of several important Indian films and converted them into 4K format, ensuring that this cinematic heritage reaches future generations.

 

This year, IFFI presented special screenings of restored classics, including ‘Do Ankhen Barah Haath’ - V. Shantaram’s classic tale of prison reform; Ramesh Sippy’s ‘Sholay’ and Quentin Tarantino’s ‘Pulp Fiction.’ These films are not just historical markers but living lessons in cinematic craft as Shantaram’s humanism, Sippy’s narrative audacity and Tarantino’s playful deconstruction of genre all demonstrate how directors shape both the imagination and the consciousness of audiences across generations. What stood out was that these screenings were not dominated by senior citizens but attracted large Gen Z audiences. Many of them had only read about or heard of these films. IFFI offered them their first opportunity to experience these works on the big screen. Their enthusiastic response reaffirmed that good cinema continues to find its audience, regardless of time or generation.


Focus on Local Cinema

One of the most encouraging developments at IFFI in recent years has been its increasing focus on regional cinema. Films from various Indian languages, including lesser-known dialects, and works by young and emerging directors, have found space in sections such as Indian Panorama. This shift reflects a broader understanding of Indian cinema.

 

IFFI, which has been held in Goa for over two decades, also introduced a dedicated Goan section a few years ago to showcase films in the Konkani language. The state government has consistently supported local language filmmaking and used IFFI as a platform to present Goan cinema to a global audience. As a result, the film culture in Goa has grown noticeably over the last eight years.

 

Alongside short films and documentaries, full-length Konkani feature films are now being produced, and high-quality works from the region are screened at IFFI every year. This has encouraged many young people in the state to take filmmaking seriously. Last year, 15 Konkani short films were screened across the Indian Panorama and Goan sections. This year, two films were selected for Gala screenings, and five short films were featured in the Goan section. This growing visibility has provided a significant boost to Goan cinema and has inspired confidence among young filmmakers to attempt full-length features in the future.

 

Each year, India and several non-English speaking countries submit a film to the Oscars in the International Feature Film category. However, many of these films do not receive theatrical releases in India, and even when they appear on OTT platforms, it is often months or years later. This delay has long disappointed film enthusiasts.

 

This year, IFFI addressed this gap by screening around 21 films submitted for the Oscars. These included ‘A Useful Ghost from Thailand’ - a poignant reflection on grief and memory; ‘Sirât’ from Spain and France; ‘A Poet from Colombia,’ a lyrical study of language and identity; and ‘The Last Repair Shop’ from the US, an exploration of human connection in a post-industrial world. These screenings were met with an enthusiastic response from audiences. In doing so, IFFI is following in the footsteps of earlier festivals like Cannes and Venice, which historically introduced audiences to gems such as Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon or Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal, films that transcended borders and reshaped global cinema.

In the end, this year’s IFFI felt both expansive and quietly reassuring. By widening its curatorial lens, the festival allowed audiences to encounter a richer, more varied cinema than before. Through this widening global window came not just new films, but new ways of seeing, suggesting that the future of cinema, for all its anxieties, remains open, plural and alive.

 

(The writer is a scriptwriter and director. Views personal)

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