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Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 9:59:04 pm

Hidden Questions

For six years, the Disha Salian case has remained trapped in a fog of unanswered questions, disputed narratives and institutional inaction. It appears that the fog is now finally beginning to lift. The CBI’s recent FIR has brought into the investigation a startling array of names including Shiv Sena (UBT) leader and MLA Aaditya Thackeray, his father, Sena (UBT) chief and former Chief Minister Uddhav Thackeray, Dino Morea, Sooraj Pancholi, Rhea Chakraborty, Sachin Vaze, Param Bir Singh, and...

Hidden Questions

For six years, the Disha Salian case has remained trapped in a fog of unanswered questions, disputed narratives and institutional inaction. It appears that the fog is now finally beginning to lift. The CBI’s recent FIR has brought into the investigation a startling array of names including Shiv Sena (UBT) leader and MLA Aaditya Thackeray, his father, Sena (UBT) chief and former Chief Minister Uddhav Thackeray, Dino Morea, Sooraj Pancholi, Rhea Chakraborty, Sachin Vaze, Param Bir Singh, and former home minister Anil Deshmukh. The allegations being investigated include conspiracy, destruction or suppression of evidence and an alleged attempt to establish a false narrative around Salian’s death. For Aaditya and the MVA, the instinctive political response will be to dub the CBI’s fresh probe as ‘vendetta’ and portray the investigation as an assault on the Thackeray family. But such a response would evade the much larger question of why this case was allowed to remain where it was for so long? At the very least, the filing of the FIR against the Thackerays’ and others lays bare the failure on part of the erstwhile MVA government headed by Uddhav Thackeray to properly investigate the case. This aspect cannot be wished away now by invoking political persecution as the Bombay High Court’s intervention has itself exposed the extraordinary manner in which the matter was handled. For years, Salian’s death remained an accidental-death case rather than being subjected to the kind of criminal investigation demanded by the allegations surrounding it. Her family has repeatedly sought a CBI probe only to be rebuffed by the previous Maharashtra government headed by Uddhav Thackeray. If the Thackeray-led MVA government had nothing to fear, why was a transparent investigation not pursued with greater urgency? If there was no attempt to protect anyone, why were questions about the circumstances of Salian’s death allowed to accumulate rather than being conclusively answered? And if there was no political sensitivity involved, why did the machinery of government appear so reluctant to let an independent agency examine the matter? The more aggressively the Opposition cries “vendetta,” the more obvious another question becomes: what exactly is it afraid the investigation might uncover? Aaditya Thackeray’s political inheritance cannot become an institutional exemption. Being Balasaheb Thackeray’s grandson may provide a formidable political surname; it cannot provide immunity from scrutiny. The CBI must be allowed to pursue every lead, examine every witness, reconstruct every missing link and establish the truth as to what happened to Disha Salian. If the allegations against anyone are false, the investigation should establish that too. But if wrongdoing has occurred, then those responsible must face the consequences. After six years, neither political power nor a famous surname can be allowed to stand between the investigation and the truth.

The Changing Face of Sex Workers in Bollywood Cinema

Sep 23, 2024
3 min read

Updated: Oct 21, 2024

The Changing Face of Sex Workers in Bollywood Cinema

Prostitution in Indian cinema has a hidden charisma, like a film that has been banned, and the banning becomes a tantalising invitation to the film that depicts or deals with prostitution. It is a part of everyday sexism. In constructing certain specific representations of women, it codes women as an object of the male gaze.

Chetna (1971), directed by the late B.R. Ishara, was perhaps the first Hindi film to represent a sex worker who stepped into the profession out of greed and was not embarrassed about it. But the guilt of having married one of her clients who fell in love with her proves her undoing. It was an extremely bold film for the time, encapsulating very bold cinematographic frames and a brilliant performance by Rehana Sultan.


Parched

Bijlee in Parched, directed by Leena Yadav, is part of a touring entertainment group that performs item numbers for the village men. She also sleeps with some of them in exchange for money. The owner of the company who pimps her gets a fair cut. She has a beautiful figure enough to set the men’s hormone levels rising. Additionally, she is a delightful woman who loves to return to the village to meet her friend Ranee, a young widow. She is not embarrassed about her job, flaunts her charms proudly, and gives courage to other women.

Bijlee is a sparkling beauty and crackles like fireworks with her naughty, teasing charm she veils her inner pain with. She throws up alternative ways of behaviour and thinking, changing female-prefixed abuses men generously use by substituting them with male prefixes and shouting these from the top of a hillock with her friends. Bijlee offers visions of freedom to Lajjo and Rani from the prison they are caged in. But simmering inside her is the pain of the trap that, for her, is a no-exit situation where love is as much a mirage as it is for Rani and Lajjo.


Akira

Maya in Akira is a high-class call girl. She is not ashamed of trading her body for money. She is strong and courageous enough to strike back when a corrupt and murderous cop blackmails her into offering her services for free. All because he set her free from being jailed once. She tries to avenge this wrong by capturing on video one of his corrupt dealings but is killed by the same cop and his team. Strangely, reviews of Akira do not even mention the way her character unfolds and the brilliance of her performance, who has no sad story to back up her being in the profession.


Badlapur

In Badlapur, Jhimli (Huma Qureshi) is portrayed as a confident sex worker who, despite her deep affection for Liak (Nawazuddin Siddique), remains committed to her profession. She ultimately becomes the mistress of a wealthy man, showcasing her assertive nature and lack of desire for marriage or settling down.

But underneath her flashy clothes and loud make-up, Jhimli is very fond of Liak, though he is a killer on the run. The only time we find her broken is when the hero rapes her with vengeance. Huma Quereshi as Jhimli gives an outstanding performance as a sex worker who is not embarrassed about her profession. There is an irony when placed next to a character who is a social worker who sleeps on the sly with men who she has business with. Jhimli comes across as a bold woman, in love with one of her clients but with no plans of marrying him or giving up her profession.

The prostitute, on celluloid as in real life, has her saleability in common. With other culturally prevalent representations of women such as the sacrificing or the ruthlessly selfish wife, new Indian filmmakers, men and women, have reinvented and created new codes of non-voyeuristic vision through the character of the prostitute in their films.

(The writer is a senior journalist based in Kolkata. Views personal.)

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