Sow The Whirlwind:
When television and social media are all-pervasive today, and instead of clearing facts are being used to spread misinformation, Shiladitya Bora’s Bhagwan Bharose (with Ab Toh Sab prefixed to the title) back to a time when innocence still existed.
Set in 1989 in a north Indian village, Bora’s film begins as a bucolic idyll, where the only thing that drives little Bhola (Satendra Soni) and his best buddy Shambhu (Sparsh Suman) is beating the rival group in a kite-flying contest. Their grandfather (Vinay Pathak) encourages their passion for kites and their mother (Masumeh Makhija) raises her son by herself, while her husband works in Mumbai.
What little education the boys get is from a pandit (Shrikant Verma) who runs an informal, open-air school. They take the mythological tales he tells them very seriously, since there is no other source of information.
Their lives change when the father returns from the city with a TV, and they get to see the serial Mahabharat in fuzzy black and white. Rural homes have not been electrified till then, so the grandfather illegally taps an overhead power line. But their TV watching is often interrupted when there is a no electricity. The village gathers with full devotion to watch Mahabharat, but the kids are exposed to Bollywood too– in a hilarious sequence they watch saucer-eyed as Helen slithers sexily on screen.
At school, Bhola is shocked to learn that the earth is not held up by Sheshnag, as he was taught, and neither do Rahu-Ketu cause eclipses. For the first time in his simple existence, science clashes with belief.
There seems to be no mention of caste in this village, and the presence of the ‘Other’ is indicated with a faint sound of azaan from a village across the river, which they have never been allowed to cross. Shambhu’s granny had told them then asurs (demons) live there, and the boys unquestioningly accept that, because they have nobody to tell them the rational alternative. The only atheist in the village (Manu Rishi Chadha) has already been reviled by the villagers as evil.
When rumblings of saffron-waving Hindutva reaches their villages, the boys are not equipped to comprehend what is happening. Their faith is simple, and their God is the one who answers their prayers and now appears on TV. But when they are told temples have to be built to protect Hinduism they believe it, because they have no real concept of evil.
Bora takes the film from random scenes of childish humour and family interactions to the inevitable tragedy when hate insidiously seeps into their lives.
Like Prasun Chatterjee’s 2021 film, Dostojee, Bora chooses to tell his story from the perspective of a child. The kids stand in for those who are easily misled and corrupted in the name of religion. Some years ago, Iranian filmmakers had started making films with children as protagonists to avoid strict censorship. Ir caught on in other filmmaking countries, and there have been a number of Indian films in multiple languages that use children to get their messages across. Most of them have picked fresh faces so that the innocence does not have to be ‘acted.’ For Bhagwan Bharose Satendra Soni is a wonderful choice– he does not look cute, but has a charming crooked-toothed smile and brow furrowed with genuine confusion when everything in his hitherto sheltered existence spins out of control.
Films like Bhagwan Bharose do not get a wide release and are buried under the lavish promotional campaigns of big-budget films. But those who want an alternative world view ought to support independent cinema. A mainstream film like Jawan is disproportionately extolled for making political comments, but it is the small film that usually sticks its neck out.
(This piece first appeared in rediff.com)
