Why the world needs to watch Mother India

A myriad of emotions arise in every objective mind as the term India is uttered because facts dictate so. The largest democracy in the world. Widespread presence of poverty. Taj Mahal! Extreme corruption. Himalayan Valleys and so on. But what if you had only 3 hours to know about this nation? What if you could only expend a mere 3 hours to grab the concept behind this land of mysticism? Out of all the resources available to humankind, I'd suggest you to watch the movie known as Mother India.

Now a logical mind begins to question. Why so? And that is what what I am here to answer. Mother India was not only the first encounter of India with the Academy Awards also known as the Oscars but till date it is also the closest one. Now consider this, Mother India was released 61 years ago and Indian cinema is the world's second oldest film industry in the world. It currently produces the largest number of movies and also sells the highest number of tickets every year.

Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film was first awarded in 1956 after giving out 8 honorary awards during previous years to the best foreign language films released in the United States. Rumours were flowing that Mother India has already won so director Mehboob Khan flew to attend the ceremony in person. Now I'd like to state a fact and a legend. It's a well known fact that Mehboob Khan went almost bankrupt while completing Mother India and legend says that a lead actress secretly provided money to his office during the final phases of production.

In the final contestants stood Nights of Cambria directed by Frederico Fellini who had also won the first and previous award in this category. This was the story of a prostitute who continues on her quest for love despite failures. The last scene of this movie resounded spectacularly with the post-war France and was described to be more in worth than "all the fire-breathing blockbusters Hollywood has to offer" 41 years later by the Times' critic Janet Maslin. On the other hand was Mother India trying to depict independent India's mentality through a remake of Mehboob's brilliant movie "Aurat" translating to "Woman" which was released in 1940. But Mehboob had not spendt 17 years trying to win  an Oscar. He was trying to send a message to the Indian public at their 10th Independence Day. Trying to explain the belief which led to the Constitution of India. He was also in love with Sardar Khan, the lead actress of Aurat, a major inspiration behind the remake and also his wife.

Nights of Cabiria won by one vote over Mother India that day and Mehboob Khan had a heart attack. I don't believe that people of high enough artistic calibre to be on the Academy Awards panel can be unfair towards art. I personally find both the movies equally compelling since Giulietta Masina who was also the wife of Fellini has given a miraculous performance in the role of main character. Also, I do not consider myself capable enough to accurately judge such wondrous pieces of art, so I simply rely on expert reviews to find their shortcomings. I tried to search for the shortcoming that could have led to this difference of one vote.

Being a general internet user, I first checked on ImDB and realised that both movies had the same rating of 8.1 out of 10. So I turned to my next trusted option for comparison, Rotten Tomatoes. This website had 92 percent expert rating for Mother India with 12 reviews. I looked for the one negative review finally arriving at the last review. Ironically, this review was given on the same date in 2002 which marks India's largest heartbreak as India waited to see the sunrise of independence. The review states "The only thing this movie could inspire is matricide". However, it appears that Mehboob Khan had adequately researched the Hindu scriptures himself. The most furious phase of a main character is depicted when he attacks the gate of his own house with an axe while his mother is inside. This could easily represent Parshurama literally translating to "axe Rama" who is the only person known to have committed matricide across the entire Hindu scriptures. A scene like this is not present in the movie Aurat despite depicting a more violent relation between the mother and son.

Therefore, I believe that this one vote can simply be attributed to a person who couldn't clearly understand the Hindu culture depicted in the movie. This is quite acceptable and the argument behind this belief generates from a simple fact that one of the Hindu scriptures known as Mahabharata is the world's largest poem in itself while  also being coded in Sanskrit. I will write a different article to explain the concept of matricide in Hinduism based on facts but I can fleetingly tell you that matricide is one of the worst sins as per the Hindu religion and I believe it to be the worst sin.

In 2013, fifty six years after the release of Mother India, an article in The Guardian stated that website Play.com had conducted a study to determine the scariest scene in movie history. First the website polled 10,000 users to find out the 10 films which most frightened customers. After this they used heartbeat monitors to find out the exact scene which most scared customers. The answer was "Here's Jhonny" scene from the Stanley Kubrick's 1980 movie The Shining. If you watch both the movies, you will realize that these scenes are not only similar due to the shot angles but also share the condition of a mother being present inside with a weapon that plays an important role in the scene. It may be possible that Stanley Kubrick got subtly inspired by Mother India three decades later. On the other hand, it may also be possible that the magnificent creator of the unparalleled movie known as 2001: A Space Odyssey (released in 1968) never had a chance to see Mother India. Maybe the real answer rests in peace with him.

The fact that Indian film industry sold around 900,000 more tickets than Hollywood in the past year clearly indicates that cinema is popular among the Indian public. According to numerous experts, successful movies of the Golden Age of Bollywood (around 1940 to 1960) are entirely responsible for the shaping the current Bollywood with Mother India taking the lead. Therefore, knowingly or unknowingly Mother India has had a massive impact on the Indian population over the past six decades and efficiently explains the concept on which India was formed and shaped. This is why I think every non-Indian should watch this movie.

Over the past weekend, a friend asked me to watch the latest biopic of Bollywood known as Sanju. I considered the suggestion positively mentioning that Sunil Dutt and Nargis were the parents of Sanjay Dutt, the person on whom the biopic is based. But my friend didn't even know these people outside of that movie. Another friend told me how the photo of Nargis was missing at the end of the movie though I haven't watched it yet and can't confirm. Today an old friend referred to the recent Netflix show "Sacred Games" as the magnum opus of Bollywood which prompted me to write this article as I would beg to differ because Mother India has permanently taken that place according to me. As of yet, I am eagerly awaiting for a free weekend to binge watch Sacred Games and Sanju. I personally believe that Mother India is more than a movie, it's a phenomenon that changed a country. This is why I think that all Indians should also watch Mother India at least once in their lifetime after growing up. If I was to review this movie in one line, I'd say: "The character of Mother India portrayed by Nargis is the pinnacle of Bollywood."

What saddens me is that Sanjay Dutt may never realize that he could have released a biopic on his mother and father who were both exemplary actors and received the fourth highest civilian award of India known as Padma Shri in 1958 and 1968 respectively. If he does realize that and ever reads the previous line then I apologize to him right now. However, I'd like to also tell him my views since I once watched an episode of the Indian television show "Aapki Adaalat" translating to "Your Court" where Sanjay Dutt appeared as the guest to be questioned. I respect Manyata Dutt and there's no question about it but he gave the example of Indira Gandhi not using the Nehru surname to justify his views regarding Priya Dutt and Namrata Dutt (as mentioned on Sir Dutt's Wikipedia page presently). Next time I would advise him to simply state that his own mom is popularly known only as "Nargis", kindly check her Wikipedia page. Also, I personally believe that the host Rajat Sharma already realized that despite Sanjay's mistakes the Indian public has always forgiven him because of Mother India. This is because Sanjay Dutt strikingly resembles the prodigious actor and his father, Sunil Dutt who was the leading male actor in Mother India and portrayed a marvellous role that resounds with Sanjay's character in real life. As if some irony of nature, the day I decided to write this article is the day news arrived that India has overtaken France to become the sixth largest nation in gross GDP according to data released by the World Bank.

Anasuya

Sage Narada had the fortune of visiting the gods and staying with the trinity anytime he wanted to. Being in presence of the three who create, manage and destroy everything, there was nothing else he had to praise. Yet time and again he mentioned a woman so marvellous that even the trinity together couldn't conquer her. A seed of jealousy grew within their wives and soon they conspired against the marvel called Anasuya.

The mighty three, all knowing trinity flared with pride as they marched to the Earth below. Irked at their wives' request they were on a quest for the woman beyond fathom. In all glory they showed up ready to denounce the chaste of beauty. With power they beamed as Anasuya and her sage husband came to greet them with folded hands.

The couple gleamed as the glowing trinity told them they were here to eat. Happily the couple obliged but the morality within the trinity had already sent a diatribe. Bewildered and filled with contrite, they censured their thoughts as their minds twisted from inside. They could hide from the world but even the trinity couldn't hide from themselves. The dark cave had only one small light; a penchant for victory, a satisfaction for their wives.

Inured to consequence, the onerous beings accrued all their might. Questioning their prescience they relegated to a stance least virulent towards impunity. With a grandiloquent speech they made their intention known; they would eat but Anasuya would have to serve them naked. Seeing a mere human without clothes didn't perturb their conscience as they were the creators, managers and destroyers of everything. There was nothing they didn't create, nothing they couldn't alter and nothing they couldn't eradicate.

It was fair towards their duty they thought, even a glimpse would be enough to prove that the trinity can see every woman naked. Gentle drops of water broke the three from their hegemony, Brahma looked surprised, Vishnu widened his eyes and Shiva simply smiled. The omnipotent and omniscient beings were filled with profuse compassion they couldn't comprehend. The creators of everything felt hungry with the flowing smell of rice pudding. The epitome of magnificence were aghast at the prodigy in front of them.

Anasuya was standing naked at the gate cradling a large steaming earthen bowl. Three small children looked at her in awe as they adored her enchanting smile. Their confusion had gone, the holy trinity had never experienced such happiness before. A small Shiva ran towards with her overwhelmed with joy. The one who was worshipped by god of senses Indra wasn't capable of controlling his own senses as he screamed a single syllable with sheer ecstasy "Ma!".

The world was turning into a cold dark place, the wives of trinity were in disarray; the omnipresent ones had gone. There was a force that could conquer the trinity. Appearing inside Anasuya's hut they saw her sitting naked as she fed three children sitting quietly in her lap. The children were extremely mollified as they smiled and waited for their mother's hand to feed them; they didn't need anything else. The goddesses begged for forgiveness as they pleaded her to revert their husbands and return them back.

The magnanimous trinity adorned with stupefying ornaments were crying bitterly. They begged to be reverted back to as children and Anasuya simply smiled at their innocence. Anasuya promised that she would give birth to all three of them in the form of Dattatreya and asked them to return for now and fulfill their duties. The trinity now knew of one thing they didn't create, nor could alter or ever eradicate; it was mother's love.

Note: This story is a work of fiction and does not intend to harm or hurt anyone's feelings.

Wanna read another completely bizarre story that is being continued with 10 episodes already in the editing process?

Midnight Summer's Angel

I thought it was a sad loathsome day in the college. A drastically stretched breakup has numerous ill effects which I was yet to bear. However, the collapse of an entity had already started, I didn’t know it then but I know it now. The summer breeze flew with mystic energy, as I doused myself with ample amounts of alcohol. Stuttering as I may be, I still had the juice to go on. Flickering lights and meaningless cacophony didn’t matter as the waiter with a tag of Big Boss kept bringing me drink after another.

Suddenly, with a jolt I was up on the dance floor. Walking through it with immense ease compared to my situation, I could feel a plethora of Bollywood stars coursing through my soul. Yes, the alcohol was showing its, sweet effects as an eight pack man danced to pain of disco. I almost screamed in his ear to play “The Juice by Hero” but he declined apologetically as he had never heard the song before.

India has a history of corruption and my memory is inscribed with countless instances of bribery which brought out a note of 500 bucks that night. As the DJ gripped the piece of paper with eagerness, it became apparent that my song would be played in the next 5 minutes or so. Reaching the table, I had just picked up my glass when the speakers suddenly burst into a smooth piece of melancholy; my song.

The bottoms up had filled every nerve in my body with energy as I walked towards the floor. Soon the burdens were lessened as I swiftly moved along with every beat. It may have looked like a non-rhythmic piece of gaffe to many whereas others might have seen delirium in my ecstatic expressions. But the town was the only university town of India, a place which does not exist anywhere else in any universe; there was one person who found me interesting. I did not even know when the beat turned to haze as my exacerbating remorse reached saturation point. A sweet smell was engulfing me then something soft touched me on the shoulders. The flabbergasting sight that had transpired in reality seemed impossible to logic and pretension.  In a taboo ridden country, I had not expected to stumble across an intoxicated goddess. Her arms clasped around my neck as she came close, dancing perfectly with every beat.

A moment arose; a particular segment of time undefined by characteristic redundancy due to retrievable inscription in memory. Closing my arms around her waist, I looked at her gold studded ear. It looked mesmerizing and so I told her. It felt like a sharp knife piercing my body as her fearless eyes looked through my soul, let alone my mind; there was no escaping the truth. The bathroom door opened and a burly looking man walked out. I only noticed him through the fear in her eyes as his gaze wandered from place to place, searching for something.  His eyes flared as they came to an abrupt halt looking in our direction. Then I looked at her, she looked marvelous with her mocking sight. Time seemed to stop as melody flowed by and I turned to look at the midnight summer’s angel in my arms. Leaning close to her ear I nearly screamed “those earrings look gorgeous!” Reeling into an epiphany with her enchanting grin, I comprehended an important fact of life; a woman can make a man kill himself.

Our bodies swayed rhythmically with vibrations which tingled the façade of our swathed senses. The music reverberated with immense synergy. I had the all the audience I required as I sang wildly with the chorus and pulled her back to the world of dreams. I was no longer petrified of the dusk, of the realizations that precipitate when the substance wears off. There was only me and her, our juice flowing off the brims as we read each other’s mind through mouths that had comfortably melted together.

Friday the 13th

It was a beautiful summer night with clear sky and a big moon. A shiny red Cadillac came to halt in front of a small flower shop as Jason hurriedly stepped out to buy a rose for his date. With a bright smile and sparkling eyes, he asked the flower lady “do I look fine?”  Adjusting his curls, Jason took out his sunglasses from his leather jacket “don’t worry Jason, you look more than fine” the old woman replied giving him a small bouquet of beautiful roses.

Sheepishly looking around, he asked, “how much?” “Don’t worry about the money Jason. Have a good evening” the old woman said as she turned towards another customer. As Jason drove off with an ecstatic smile, Gina, the flower shop lady wondered who his date was. She had known Jason since he was a child. She knew his parents before they died in that tragic car crash. The entire town of Jonesville had witnessed the tragedy of a happy home turning into a garage.

Sabrina was a simple looking girl who had studied in London and had recently returned back to Jonesville. Her complexion was dusky and she had curly hair which could go berserk with the slightest gush of wind. Everyone knew her to be the niece of Mr. Dorothy who was the owner of three rice mills on the town outskirts, but in reality she was his daughter; an illegitimate one.

She quietly sat at the restaurant table, looking at the menu and lost in her own thoughts. The gate opened and Jason entered, his blue eyes and brilliant smile had always mesmerised her but today he looked even better. With gelled hair and trimmed beard, he looked like a Hollywood superstar. As he looked around their eyes met and she quickly looked down blushing. But Jason wasn’t looking at her lips as she quickly hid her slightly deformed teeth or her tiny nose; he was looking at her enchanting eyes.

Coming closer he extended the bouquet, his cheek muscles were starting to hurt but he couldn’t stop smiling. She looked spectacular in her black dress, their gaze connected again and two hearts melted in a single instant. As if attracted by some magnetic field, they came close and broke into a passionate kiss.

“So, you thought of ordering something yet other than each other?” the waitress was standing with a huge grin on her face. As they separated, a burst of bullets rang through the restaurant shattering the windows. Jason stood in shock, shielding his ears; a surge of pain was growing in his waist.

Slowly opening his eyes, he saw Sabrina looking towards him, her hand was clasped over her neck. “Oh my god!” Jason screamed, lunging forward to grab her as she fell towards the floor. He couldn't believe what had happened, he looked at her in utter bewilderment. As they looked at each other, she smiled; she looked marvelous through all the crimson hues. Fighting a million emotions Jason smiled back.

The light in their eyes had gone. Five minutes later, Jason was speeding on the highway at 120miles per hour.  He hadn’t looked at the bullet lodged in his waist or the police cars in the distance; his eyes were only searching for the culprits. In the distance, he could see only one car and only a single thought arose in his mind; they have to die.

Going at nearly 140 miles per hour Jason closed in on the vehicle ahead. A barrage of bullets shattered the windshield of his car but he was already crouched under the steering wheel. The cars came in contact with a loud bang and Jason looked up to see the green car as it slid of the road and came to halt with another bang as it hit a tree. Jason yanked his steering in the same direction with one hand while searching under his seat for something with the other hand.

Jason stepped out of his car, he could see someone moving inside the other car. Ron hadn’t expected a red Cadillac to crash into them after a successful bank robbery. He looked around but no one seemed to be conscious, fumbling around he managed to open the gate. Stepping out of the car, Ron looked at the tree they had run into.

A crunch made him turn back and he froze in terror; standing before him was a crazy man with a large wrench in his hand. Jason kept hitting the man till every hole on his deformed head started to bleed; his left eyeball was squashed along with the socket while the right one was on the verge of popping out. Standing up, he looked at the bloody wrench and his hands, staring at the blood dripping off his palms made him feel good. Slowly, as the blood started to dry he realised his solace went away too. Someone in the car was moving again, Jason smiled.

The Broken Mirror

A soft sigh which felt like a calm breeze lifted me away from my struggle. As the machines came to life beeping frantically, I could see my horrified daughter hunched over my calm body. Her mirror with golden cracks had shattered and so had she but I knew she will overcome this and everything else; after all, I made her in my own likeliness. 

A few people in the universe have the fortune of experiencing the bond of a mother and daughter. It is a marvelous phenomenon, completely unknown to those who were never bound by it. Even though human body has its physical limitations, the power of this bond stretches beyond such trivial limitations.

I have always tried to become an ideal person and I know I have set a good example behind for my daughter. A part of me will live on inside everyone through our cherished memories and shared time. However, my impact is much more than mere vacation trips and family dinners for my daughter. It includes infinite moments of our battles against the world, exam preparations, fevers, celebrations and life as she blossomed into what she is today.

Although the mirror she looked into for guidance is no longer with her it was merely a reflection of her own self. She knows that I always have been and always will be there by her side; her devastation is an understandable outburst towards an unfair life. She wanted to graduate before my eyes, after years of toiling through daunting circumstances she had managed to be the topper in her entire branch of Engineering. Weeks ahead of her final semester project submission, I was snatched away; it’s unfair.

I do not feel angry or bad; I just feel pride for doing an excellent job during my time. There are many things left unsaid and a world left which could have been lived but the past has gone by, only the future stands ahead. Life is a sordid affair but living it to the fullest provided me with ample moments to treasure and generations worth of experience in a short lifetime. Imbued into my daughter are the same qualities as me, which assure me of her immense success an incredibly happy life in future.

A mother and her daughter can be best described as mirrors. We break but we mend ourselves with brilliance as life goes on. Our sparkling cracks help to elate joys and happiness in our presence. However, we only reflect what comes before us, kindness sees kindness and apathy sees apathy when looking at us. Such is our magnificence that even death is appalled on visiting us as before it stands death itself in all its glory and morbidity.

Time and again my daughter will cry, but she will never fail to try; she will live her dreams and fly. I want to tell her that she’s perfect but then again, she has always exceeded my expectations. I want to tell her to not be scared but then again, I have already nurtured her to be the strongest. I want to tell her goodbye but then again, I’m not going anywhere.

Welcome to the Machine

Lightning struck but the thin thread kept spreading until it had reached horizon to horizon. And then the flash started to widen, numbing all human senses as it engulfed the sky. To many, this meant that the machines had won. As humanity stood at a standstill, the weak ones began to drop their weapons. Many others dropped themselves, froth dripping from their mouths.

But for a few like me, this moment was full of utter ecstasy. After millions of bullets and thousands of explosions, this was my first peaceful moment in a decade and half of war. The one before this was when I stepped on the stage to receive my Medal of Honor. Now I was being welcomed onto the stage of a new world; a world where my enemy knew my every movement. Their algorithms could figure out my choices and the reasons that lay underneath them; they knew why I was bad at school or why I bought my electric guitar. They were welcoming me into a magnificent machine where I could fulfill my part. They understood and allowed my intentions, but to me it all seemed like a dream.

Something still wasn’t right. We were in the middle of a war. My uniform was still on and my gun loaded. My comrades were with me but their minds weren’t with them. My body felt light; as if it could float. Staring into oblivion, there was absolute nothingness in the eyes of my comrades as they vibrated to the pulsating electric rhythm in the background. I could hear something falling from the sky and barely managed to lift my head to see a humongous wave of light flowing towards the ground. With an eerie sound it struck everyone, whisking me away with a strong current. Clenching my gun as hard as I could, I gnashed my teeth while feeling the current as it passed through my body. Only a scant part of consciousness remained with me by the time it was over. Breathing heavily and sweating profusely, I felt like collapsing on all fours. Through whatever my faint senses could gather, I realized another wave was coming but I was too weak to brace myself. This one felt as if it had hit me directly and I could still hear it falling for a while after the current started to flow through me. Lasting much longer than before, the second wave had essentially knocked me out of senses. I couldn’t feel my broken jaw or see the light anymore, it was dark. Through the resounding aftershocks, I only knew I was floating. Then arrived the third piercing wave and everyone thrashed mid-air as I joined the ironic dance of our defeat.

This was a dream; each and every subconscious memory of my mind lay in front of me. I could see the truth now; all my aspirations made sense when all my actions and thoughts were laid bare side by side. I felt more powerful than I could remember and each second the energy grew. I was also thinking how I could process all this information while understanding a billion instances simultaneously. I realized how all my aspirations were predetermined; how I was already a component of the machine. Through a broken smile, I remembered my steak bar dates and warm air lapping my face as I drove my Jaguar beside the sea. I could understand their capabilities and our capacities; we had become one. Outstretching my hand, I welcomed them as a tear trickled down my cheek.

Inspired By:

Pink Floyd - Welcome to the Machine, Wish You Were Here (1975)

Written By:

Atul Shrotriya