Garam Hawa: The scorching winds that are still blowing

Guest Column: Sourajit Saha

Artwork by Sourajit Saha


"Tasleem hua mulk, to dil ho gaye tukre,
 Har seene mein tufaan wahan bhi tha ,yahan bhi.
 Har ghar mein chita jalti thi, lahlehate the shole,
 Har sheher mein shmshaan wahan bhi tha, yahan bhi.
 Geeta ki koi na suntan, na quran ki suntan,
 Hairan sa insaan, wahan bhi tha, yahan bhi.
 Jo dur se tufan ka karte hain nazara,
 Unke liye tufaan wahan bhi tha yahan bhi.
 Dhaare mein jo mil jaoge, ban jaoge dhara,
 Yeh waqt ka ailan wahan bhi hai, yahan bhi”

                                                                              ~ Kaifi Azmi

M. S. Sathyu’s Garam Hawa begins with Azmi’s poetry along with newsreels and images of Partition showing the mayhem of the masses and the popularity of the leaders. The opening sequence depicting the nascent stages of a newly independent country itself bears the seed of communal tension that has been plaguing Indian society since Independence. The film suddenly came back into public memory after almost 50 years of its making due to the current political situation in India. Coincidentally it was M.S. Sathyu’s birthday on 6th of July and the author of this article happened to attend a Zoom session of his lecture discussing the film on that fateful day. A fresh viewing of this controversial film instigated the author, who grew up hearing stories of Partition from his grandfathers, to write about its impact on the public even today.

“Go to Pakistan” has become the most used phrase in recent years in India showing the hostile situation that has been conjured along communal lines by the party in power. Akhilesh Singh, a superintendent of Police in Meerut has been found shouting slogans of “Go to Pakistan” at a crowd protesting at Lisari Gate, a prominent Muslim locality in Meerut. Many more such incidents have been reported evincing the intolerance that has been on the rise against Muslims in the country. This phrase has entered the common Indian narrative after the renewed rise of the Hindu right wing groups with the formation of BJP govt. in 2014 at the centre. Any criticism of the government is slapped by “Go to Pakistan” or labelling the individual as “anti-national”. The fascist government has taken this a step further by exercising the draconian UAPA to arrest dissenting individuals mostly Muslims, the prime examples being Kafeel Khan and Sharjeel Imam, most recently Sharjeel Usmani. What is interesting is the fact that the situation has suddenly and eerily become the same as was 70 years ago. After Partition, almost overnight the Muslims of Hindustan had become a burden of the land they had occupied for generations. The story of Salim Mirza, a shoe factory owner is one such depicted by the film. Over the years, we have seen many films being made on Partition but few have explored the socio-political ramification of the event on a particular section of people (in this case the Muslims) so strongly. Initially adapted by Shama Zaidi, wife of Sathyu from Ismat Chugtai’s unpublished story, the final script was penned down by Kaifi Azmi, one of the foremost poets and writers of IPTA (Indian People Theatre Association). Garam Hawa exposes the communal undercurrents, Garam Hawa (or Scorching Winds), that were alienating the Muslims who had decided to stay back. Just as Salim Mirza was returning from the railway station bidding his elder sister goodbye as she was leaving with her family for Pakistan, the Tongawallah says a dialogue which becomes the summary of the whole film in a single line “Badi Garam Hawa hai. Jo ukhda nai wo sookh jayega” [They’ll wither in these Scorching Winds if they aren’t uprooted].


Over the course of the film we see how the Mirza family of Agra disintegrated and fell apart. This was the fate of many who had to ultimately flee to the other side of the border fearing their doom in this land of theirs which suddenly became anti-Muslim. Even the Indian Muslim leaders of the day were giving false hopes of support to their brothers making matters worse. Halim Mirza, the elder brother of Salim and a self-proclaimed Muslim leader of the UP Muslims has been characterized as those bigot leaders giving speeches of not leaving India in one scene and discussing of a possible exit with his family in the scene after. The director has quite innovatively used sounds of claps during his lofty talks with his wife mocking his two-faced nature. The fact that it has become anti-Muslim is reminded time and again through small events dispersed throughout the film. The first time we hear about “Go to Pakistan” in the film is when Salim Mirza is told by a Tongawallah “Tumhara time khatam ho gaya hain Miya/ Aat anna dena hain toh Pakistan jao Pakistan” [ Your days are gone/ If you want to ride for eight annas go to Pakistan ].


The poison of communalism propagated by the political leaders had reached the common masses and started affecting the Muslims on a daily basis. The same tension is seen when Salim Mirza is refused by the money lenders and the bank for a loan. Even finding a house for a Mussalman family becomes tough. Salim Mirza had to pay three months’ rent in advance to get a new house after being evicted from his family’s haveli. This is no different in the present times with the reports of cases where Muslims have been refused to rent a flat by the owners in Indian metropolitan cities. Sathyu has rendered the landlords, the bank managers, the moneylenders faceless in the film thereby hinting at the diffused nature of power. Whom to protest against if the perpetrators are not individuals but any and everyone with innate Islamophobia. The rulers have been exploiting these communal fault lines for their own advantage be it the British or Muslim League or Congress in the time of Partition or the right-wing BJP of the present day. This recurrence of Islamophobic atmosphere proves the point that nothing much has changed even after all these years and it is easy to feed religious propaganda (even more so now with help of technology) to the masses. The intolerance has grown even more with dissenting voices being shut down. If such was the case back then, then this highly political film with direct references to the erstwhile political situations and leaders would not have seen the light of the day. The film along with its creator faced many adversities from finding funds from Film Finance Corporation (now NFDC) to getting it passed by the Censor Board. According to Sathyu, the film was stuck for 11 years with the CBFC (Censor Board of Film Certification). Imagine what it must have been like for a debutant director! Later on, thanks to the personal connections of Sathyu with Mrs. Gandhi and I.K. Gujral, the then I&B minister of the state, the film was finally released in India. (It already had its premiere in Cannes and other film festivals abroad and even won many accolades). There were rumors of Shiv Sena protesting the release of the film in India which Sathyu dismissed saying that the SS chief Bal Thackerey had seen it even before its premiere and actually liked it. At the end compelled by the situation Salim Mirza is on the verge of leaving the country but instead joins the protest for “Rozi Roti” along with his son. Mirza’s decision for staying back and joining the masses is resonated by the words of Kaifi Azmi – “Jo door se toofan ka karte hain nazara/ unke liye toofan waha bhi hain yaha bhi/Dhaarein mein jo mil jaoge bann jaoge dhara/ye waqt ka elaan waha bhi hain yaha bhi” [Those who view the storm from afar see no difference between here and there/ To join in and become a part of it/ This is the call of the times, here and there]. The rising unemployment and intolerance were a reality then, as they are now. Watching from afar is an act of privilege but the call for the day urges one to be a part of the protest. The protest is the tool of the citizens to remind the Ruler that they are just the representatives of the masses and nothing else. The public interest is what matters, not any individual’s vested interest. The hope of Salim Mirza is same as that of the hundreds and thousands protesting at Shaheen Bagh or Park Circus, the hope of a better future for the country and her citizens where there will be no discrimination based on one’s creed, caste or class.


Photo Courtesy: Taniya Sarkar

Bibliography:
Sourajit Saha works as a software engineer by day and lives as a cinephile 24/7. Having interest in visual arts and history, he aspires to become a filmmaker one day.

















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