Innocence and Exploitation: Two Movies

Mandakini in Ram Teri Ganga

I watched Ram Teri Ganga Maili in Lonavala, a hill station near Mumbai. I was a hotel management trainee at an international hotel at that time. It was a weekday in the winter of 1985-86 and the golden sunlight kissed the arid landscape to a mild temperature. There weren’t many guests in the hotel and we were totally relaxed. Along with two friends, I bunked off to watch the movie in a theatre that was at walking distance.

A decade and a half later, I watched another Hindi movie, Taal, along with Maggie in Shillong, another hill station, more than 2000 km from Lonavala. Watching a movie in a Shillong theatre was quite a daring venture for nontribal folk like us. The whole air was redolent of animosity towards dkhars, outsiders, as we were called by the local populace. 

Both the movies present hill-folk as innocent and simple. The mountains in both are not just a romantic backdrop; they symbolise purity, simplicity, and a life in harmony with nature. Maybe, that’s why the movies remain etched indelibly in my memory. My experience in Shillong didn’t quite justify that romanticised view of the hill-people. On a second thought, however, it could be justified. Because those tribal people were quite innocent and simple until the plains-people like me went and corrupted them.

This is precisely the theme of both the movies.

Ganga in the eponymous movie evokes the sacred river. Mansi’s village in Taal [Rhythm] is filled with music, tradition, and unsullied beauty. In both the movies, hills represent a world untouched by corruption, where identity is intact and dignity is preserved.

When these women come into contact with the city people and eventually step into the city, their innocence collides with the savagery of urban civilisation. [I use the word savagery intentionally. We expect savagery in the forests on the hills and sophistication in the cities. But the opposite is the truth quite often.]

Ganga is exploited the moment she steps into the city. Her purity is commodified in a world of politics and lust. Mansi, though not physically violated, is emotionally manipulated. Her talent becomes a product for the entertainment industry, and her love is tested by class and power. The city, in both the movies, becomes a metaphor for modernity’s predatory gaze, where innocent women from the pristine hills are consumed by savage urban hungers.

The river Ganga plays a dominant role as a metaphor in the movie. The Ganga is supposed to be a holy river. But it is highly polluted. The meaning of the movie’s title is: Ram, Your Ganga is Polluted. Politicians use the river in various ways to achieve their devious goals. What the movie showed four decades ago holds true even today: the Ganga is one of the most polluted rivers in the world even today in spite of the country allocating INR 42,500 crore [425,000 million] for its cleanup during the reign of Mr Modi.

Ganga, the innocent woman from the hills in the movie, is made a prostitute in the city of Calcutta [today’s Kolkata]. The symbolism is total unless you want to add to it Ganga’s murder in the end.

Mansi’s fate is better. She is not destroyed though the city exploits her art for profit and prestige. The hill didn’t do that; the hill nurtured her art. 

Philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau of the 18^th century would have been happy with the romanticisation of the hills in these movies. I who lived half of my life in hills or villages and half in cities know that people, wherever they live, are a ridiculous blend of the good and the bad. Some of the worst people are now seen wearing holy robes.

PS.  This post is a part of ‘Pass the Popcorn Blog Hop’ hosted by Manali Desai and Sukaina Majeed and sponsored by Jaico Publishing House under #EveryConversationMatters blog hop series.