Mattress Matters:
A small and simple film won five awards at the International Film Festival of Kerala, including the Audience Choice award. Feminichi Fathima (Feminist Fathima) is the debut Malayalam language feature of Fasil Muhammed–it is rare that international juries and local festival viewers—mostly men– pick the same film.
On the face of it, despite the fierce-sounding title there is nothing earth-shattering about the plot, yet, a tiny revolution takes place in the small village and humble home of the eponymous Fathima. A large section of the audience must have related to the story unfolding on screen—hopefully, men felt a bit ashamed, and the woman a bit empowered.
Fathima (played by Shamla Hamza) lives in a coastal village of Ponnani in Kerala, with her husband Ashraf (Kumar Sunil), mother-in-law and three children—two sons and a daughter. The husband is called Usthad by all, because he teaches in the madrassa, and is also a faith-healer of sorts, preparing taveez for various ailments for which the villagers come to him instead of going to a doctor. Because of his beliefs and vocation, the household is more conservative than others. When Fathima goes to drop her youngest to school, she gets into a full face and body covering burqa, with just the eyes showing.
Like most homemakers, her day is spent in cooking, cleaning and doing domestic chores, to the extent that her husband summons her from wherever she is to switch on the fan in the bedroom–he silently makes a rotating gesture with a finger. She has to fetch his shawl and sandals when he goes out. Fathima accepts her lot with equanimity, because she must have been taught that a wife has to be subservient to her husband.
Her troubles – and inadvertent path to independence—begin with her oldest son wetting the bed. She has to carry the heavy mattress to the courtyard, wash it and put it out to dry. Obviously, she cannot watch the mattress all day, and a dog pees on it. The disgusted Ashraf, blaming her for carelessness, says that the mattress simply cannot be brought into the house again, and Fathima is forced to give it to the junk collector. He refuses to buy another one, and Fathima has to do without a mattress, which gives her a back ache. Ashraf is the mingy type who will not even allow the household scrap to be given away. Fathima is occupied every minute– ordered around by her husband, taunted by her mother-in-law– can’t she even expect some comfort when she is done for the day?
With her friendly neighbour’s help, when she manages to get a mattress on installments. Ashraf won’t allow that either, because ‘interest’ is forbidden in Islam. She has to reluctantly return the mattress to the grumbling seller. When an acquaintance gives her an old mattress, Ashraf won’t let her use it, citing spirits of people who died on it! Fathima is exhausted and exasperated.
While this unrest is simmering in Ashraf’s home, all around change is taking place. Fathima’s brother has returned from Dubai with gifts, the neighbour’s daughter makes Instagram dance reels, which Usthad disapproves of, because photography and music is also forbidden by Islam. He is actually shocked to see that a Muslim woman in hijab is an architect who has come to the village to work on a project.
The film is vaguely reminiscent of another Malayalam hit, The Great Indian Kitchen, directed by Jeo Baby, in which the leading lady (played by Nimisha Sajayan) has an arranged marriage to a teacher. An educated dancer, she is reduced to a domestic drudge by her husband and extremely orthodox father-in-law. It is the kind of household in which men won’t even apply toothpaste to their brush, it is the woman’s job to serve the man hand and foot. The men eat first and leave a mess for the women to clean. The father-in-law turns up his nose at leftovers and insists that masalas and chutneys be ground on a stone in the old style, not in a mixer. Certain dishes have to be made on a wood stove, even when a gas burner is available. When she menstruates, she is sequestered in a room alone.
Her husband, brought up in these surroundings, behaves badly with his wife too; he demands sex whether or not she is ready.The way she is treated is so regressive, that it borders on the abusive. In the name of tradition, men have the right to oppress women, and they have to meekly endure it. Till this woman, one day finds the courage to leave and live with dignity.
Fathima’s husband may be set in a patriarchal module, but he is not violent or cruel— it is just his conditioning that makes him pompously entitled. He rather mildly asks her if they can have more children, because the other Usthads do, and does not force the issue when she rebuffs him. It is his refusal to understand her discomfort that makes Fathima strive to earn her own money and buy a mattress for herself. Not educated much, she uses the skills she has – helping her friend fulfill a food delivery order, or starting a chit fund for women and persuading her friends to join, give her confidence. The husband, totally unused to any household chore, is baffled when he has to serve food to himself, and looks bemused at the switchboard when Fathima sharply tells him, “Are your hands broken? Can’t you switch it on yourself?”
Financial independence gives women a voice, the film clearly says, but uses comedy to get the message across rather than heavy-handed melodrama. Fathima is not going to walk out of the marriage, she is probably not even aware that what she has done is called rebellion, but the balance of power has definitely shifted. She does not know what it means to be a feminist, but she has learnt that she can redraw boundaries within the home, demand and earn respect. Men like Ashraf will eventually have to accept that the days of slavery are over, and that women—feminist or not—can no longer be taken for granted. Without fanfare, something extraordinary has occurred in that ordinary milieu.
(This piece first appeared in The Free Press Journal, dated December 26, 2024)
