Not My Fault is a short film directed by Saksham Khanna. It is based around a day in the life of Puja, played by Anshika Awasthi. As she tries to live a liberated life, she keeps falling back into the overprotective turmoils imposed by her mother. The short film explores how common ways of handling crimes against women are crimes against individuality and freedom in themselves. Moreover, they can even cause much worse conditions, which often go unrecognized and ignored. 

Plot

The film opens with a commentary on Puja’s difficulties in trying to chart her own life. Even the most joyous moments of her life, like celebrating progress in work life are overshadowed by her family’s concerns. Soon, Puja’s mother, played by Nirupama Verma, blames her for things as trivial as hanging out with men and partying in short dresses. Her mother is absolutely apprehensive about Puja’s life choices and reflects on them with equal bitterness.

Ignoring her mother’s remarks, Puja decides to pursue her own happiness instead of falling back to the sexist impositions. However, still respectful of her mother’s place in her life and following at least some of the set rules, she rejects her male friend’s offer to drop her off late at night and walks home alone. This is when she encounters harassment in a helpless situation. Eventually, it turns out to be even more helpless due to her inability to communicate with her mother. She falls into distressed episodes, inviting health concerns from people surrounding her.

Not My Fault: Is Victim Blaming The Right Way To Deal With Crimes Against Women?

Victim blaming is prevalent in the ever-present patriarchal society and demands women to adjust in accordance with crimes committed against them. What most people don’t realize is that this act always leads to futile outcomes. Subverting accountability disrupts the very reason for crime and the criminal’s role instead of stopping the crime. It traps the victim in troublesome and inexpressible states, reduces their identity, and turns a deaf ear to them. Puja dissolves into prolonged sadness and no sense of joy, not only because of the harassment she faced. 

What adds to her trouble is the deep helplessness she is met with due to a lack of understanding from her family. Therefore, she chooses to suffer alone and bottle up her feelings. It is understandable on Puja’s mother’s part to be concerned for her daughter. However, it still does not give her the license to bar off all human experiences and blame her for others’ actions. It is a classic case of how victim-blaming further allows criminals to dodge accountability for their actions. 

In conclusion, Not My Fault effectively portrays the damaging effects of victim-blaming within the society we live in. The film makes it clear that we should stop blaming women for crimes against them. And, instead concentrate on keeping those who commit them liable. It is a powerful reminder that real justice and liberation can only come about if we reject the long-standing victim-blaming culture and seek to create a society in which women are free from stigma and fear. 

Drug addiction is a kind of addiction that has torn many families apart and ended many lives. It is a disease that plagues even the most developed countries of the world. And India is certainly no exception. But what is alarming about India is the fact that it’s not just the young adults who are trapped in the clutches of this horrible disease but even the pre-teens and teens are not saved from it. And with the addicting substance becoming as common as the commonly available and cheap adhesive like Dendrite, how can one stop this plague from spreading further? This National Children’s Day, we bring to you, “Maya: A State of Trance” a short documentary that explores this theme in a bit more detail.

Maya: A State of Trance: At A Glimpse

Produced and directed by Rajkishore Mohapatra, “Maya: A State of Trance” explores the prevalent theme of drug abuse in Odisha, India among teens. With just around 10 minutes, Mohapatra managed to show us the other side of Odisha that is often overlooked. He took us through the slums and dirty lanes that people pass by without taking a second glance and made us come face to face with the horrors of Odisha that cast a dark shadow on its future.

Dendrite, a commonly used adhesive has become the newest form of drug that has put the young population of Odisha in a poisonous trance. Exploring every facet of this drug from its physiological to psychological implications to how one is thrust into this lifestyle, “Maya: A State of Trance” leaves no stone unturned. It exposes the system and the people who let this poison spread without putting a check on it and makes one question how truly aware are they.

Brilliantly captured with beautiful transition, it’s no wonder that it won the 2019 Philadelphia Youth Film Festival for “Best Documentary”. Each shot of smiling innocent faces juxtaposed with their harsh hidden reality is bound to leave an unsettling feeling inside. By using this trick Mohapatra manages to create just the right amount of guilt and sympathy that is required to motivate the audience to take an action. Using experts from different fields to comment on this novel easy-to-access addiction only adds more credibility to the entire documentary.   

Afterword

Serving the purpose of a documentary, i.e., making us come face to face with reality, “Maya: A State of Trance” though short does just that. The shocking revelation captured by Mohapatra’s lens is bound to make people stop and think and take action to prevent this poison of drug addiction from spreading further. This National Children’s Day let’s pledge to be more aware of the things that we use in our daily lives as some of them may have fatal consequences for many innocent lives.

“All The Best” is an acclaimed independent short film that delves into the depths of human resilience and the unexpected twists and turns that life can take with an initial tone of optimism and enthusiasm. This short film takes viewers on an emotional rollercoaster, exploring the protagonist’s pursuit of success and the profound lessons he learns today.

A Deeper Look

Our story begins with a young man brimming with hope and enthusiasm, ready to take on his world with his goal set, written down on his mirror – “Manager and SBI”. His demeanour is nothing but confident, reinforcing his belief that success is within his touch. Well groomed and prepared he sets off on his journey with a clear sense of purpose. Being the good citizen he is, he cleans up the discarded banana peel on the road so that it doesn’t hamper anyone else. He waits at a roadside shop for the local auto to take him to the interview venue. While waiting he chances upon a stranger with a shovel who offers him paan which he politely declines, reinforcing his seriousness of the impending job interview. The stranger hollers for a scooter and is ready to leave, he turns around and says “All The Best” to our young man as he understands that he is going for an interview.

The sequence follows, showing our young man who every day repeats his same ritual of cleaning the banana peel of the streets and declining the paan of the stranger. With each day passing day the relentless cycle of job interviews starts taking a toll on our young man. The once aspiring bank manager with all the right qualifications now finds himself attending interviews for any and everything, changing his initial enthusiasm into monotony and weariness. The lead actor’s brilliant performance, coupled with the film director’s vision brings out a powerful sense of empathy and frustration in the audience. As the young man’s struggle to get a job intensifies, the viewer’s emotional engagement mirrors his growing frustration, highlighting the impact of the narrative.

Climax

The climactic scene reveals our young man, on his daily ritual waiting for the auto to take him to the interview venue. He sees the stranger mount the scooter and ride off, the auto comes and goes, we see our young man discard his resume and rush towards the departed scooter, he stops them and sits on the back seat and journeys on with them.

A year later, another bright young man is sitting at the same spot, prepping for an interview, when a friendly stranger offers him a cigarette, but he declines. The stranger then is revealed to be our former protagonist who mounts the scooter with a shovel in hand and just before he leaves he wishes the new young man “All The Best”. With that, the film concludes with a powerful message: “Not every story is a success story, some stories are about survival”, which beautifully illustrates that survival adaptation and resilience are integral aspects of the human experience.

The Take-Away

In the web of life, not every story can unfold as a tale of unmitigated success, especially when it comes to the intersection of mental health and unemployment. Even though people can possess all the qualifications and skills needed for a job, more is needed. Each journey is unique, and not every struggle ends in conventional triumph, it is our resilience and perseverance that redefine the meaning of success.

“All The Best” reminds us that there is no shame in the struggles that we face, they are a natural part of the cycle of life. It resonated deeply with the viewers, highlighting the universal theme that success is not only dependent and defied by wealth, fame, or power. The film serves as a deep symbol of the complexity of the human journey and the strength of the human spirit.

One of the many dreams of a woman in today’s day and age is to stay out as late as she can just like her male counterpart without worrying about a thing. But sadly like many things out there that took years to be deemed alright for a woman to do, this dream will also have to wait. Even though people keep saying that the world has moved forward and women now have equal rights and everything like men, the rising amount of rape and sexual harassment cases against women tells a different tale altogether. To capture this reality in a state in India that is deemed the most unsafe for women by many citizens, Delhi, GRC Stories shot a documentary, “Delhi After 2 Am” to bring this issue to the forefront.

Delhi After 2 Am: At A Glimpse

A short documentary conducting a social experiment of about 10 minutes, “Delhi After 2 Am” is shot in one of the busiest metropolitan cities of India. It quenches the curiosity that many living outside the capital must have as to how safe it truly is in the night, especially for a woman. The protagonist of the documentary Avantika Tiwari travels around the bustling city in the dead of the night and takes us with her. 

Hauz Khan, Priya Cinema, etc. places that are usually bustling with life and chatter in the daylight are blanketed with ominous silence and sly stares in the night. Auto guys who refuse to take on customers in the daylight because of various odd reasons, are oddly free to take you wherever you want. Suddenly, everyone is interested to know about your work life, or more like your job profile, for why else would you a “woman” stay out so late in the night? Strangers who won’t take a second look in the broad daylight are super friendly. And you finally realise you are indeed a “woman” in India.

Throughout the documentary, we get to see various scenarios that Tiwari as a woman faces as she travels across Delhi in the dead of the night. Though some are motivating and encouraging others are downright disturbing. Whereas on one hand, some genuinely concerned individuals are trying to look out for her, others are looking for ways to exploit her for their gains. Though there is a mixed reaction that she receives from people the creepy side manages to wipe out the encouraging side from our mind and leaves a lingering scary feeling.  

Afterword

Under the direction of Shakti Kumar and Akhilesh, “Delhi After 2 AM” manages to bring forth the reality under our fingertips. Although people always had their doubts regarding a woman’s safety in Delhi, this short documentary cements their belief. With just 10 mins and brilliant camera work “Delhi After 2 AM” gave all of us some food for thought. Although we are in the 21st century, in the era of feminism, are our women truly safe?

Growing up with an old man from another nation left me with a grave sense of enigma in the forms of stories, tales, and images. What I also inherited was a longing and grief to map a distant land that my grandfather left for me. His sense of longing and certain uncertainty to travel back to the homeland lives in me as an emotional manifestation, still. Adapted from Stefal Zweig’s short story, Die Unsichtbare Sammlung, Kaushal Oza’s short film, The Miniaturist of Junagadh, is another tale of a man longing to return to his homeland and his true self. The character of the old man, Husyn, played by Naseeruddin Shah, is a poignant one, dead and living together, reviving the dead in us.

Reviewing The Miniaturist of Junagadh: Setting and Plot

Set in 1947, the film captures Husyn’s last day in Junagadh, India. This is right before he leaves for Karachi, Pakistan, following the India-Pakistan partition. Husyn is a miniature painter who once painted in the courts of the Nawabs. But, eventually lost his vision which he considers “a reward, a badge of honor. A mark of the master miniaturist.” We are free to read this condition of his however we like. But, Kaushal Oza does provide us with this freedom at all. We are not to decide if Husyn’s desire to return to Junagadh will ever be fulfilled. His daughter, Noor, played by Rasika Duggal, gives away the futility behind her father’s desires and the hope that he is unaware to be a lost hope, is gullibly holding onto.

Identity, Communal Hatred

The cinematics of the film reveals that the house, which is being sold off, is an embodiment of Husyn. Starting with the antique gramophone, the left behind generations-old settees, century-old mahogany table, rosewood chairs, and finally, the priceless miniature paintings. It is almost like Husyn has swamped the house, and the house has engulfed him. He is present in reflections of reflections, echoes in music, is felt in art, in his hookah, everywhere.

Kushal Oza also weaves a greedy, Hindu, ruthless Kishorilal, played by Raj Arjun. He reflects on the instilled and embraced communal hatred and islamophobia during the partition. His derogatory language, hatred against a community, and the “Go to Pakistan” attitude set his character straight from the beginning. It intensifies with his resistance towards sherbet. This can have two possible reasons – it being a traditional Muslim drink or an eatable from a Muslim domestic space. Islamophobia and food politics are further brought to light as he cold-heartedly refuses to feed a mere, religion-less cat. The reason behind it is meat consumption, which is blasphemy in a Hindu household.

Lines, Borders and Transactions

As Amitav Ghosh asks, in The Shadow Lines, “What was it all for then – partition and all the killing and everything – if there isn’t something in between?”, Husyn does not fail to differentiate his priceless paintings – his identity from the British made meaningless lines of partition and almost meaningless nationalism. He considers the partition a futile political game between Jinnah and Patel. And, maybe even rightfully so because the question that always arises is – What truly is a national identity? Is it merely a bureaucratic documented term or a deeply felt innate sense of belonging? Husyn, who has spent his life till its twilight in Junagadh – must he be cast out as a foreigner owing to absolute, non-existent, and futile political borders or to be accepted as a part of his homeland? 

Another question that the short film The Miniaturist of Junagadh poses is – What is an artist without his art? Noor reflects upon the devastated, impassive, and distasteful state of Husyn after he lost his one true love – painting, that is, until he finds back his earlier works. They bring back life to his soul. Yet, melancholic enough, it doesn’t last too long. With the communal violence and hatred, and the growing capitalization in the 20th century, he leaves his life, his identity, and his most cherished belongings to become mere transactions. His paintings sold off, peace snatched, home waiting to be captured, homeland now foreign, and life that resides in miniatures becomes a mystery towards the end.

Symbolism and Layering in the Short Film

The short film has multiple layers, each beholding dynamics that mimic various elements. Music first lured in Husyn and then Kishorilal. Later on, when Kishorilal decides to keep the concealed secret, the shift in the background music mirrors the changes in his mental atmosphere. As Noor narrates the tragedy of miniatures, she blows out the lit lamps. This reflects her failed attempts to put out the flames of communal violence. Husyn’s painting is blasphemous in more than one way, but a true observation of humanity. And finally, Kishorilal’s acceptance of humanity over human-induced violence and religious boundaries as he feeds Noor’s cat.

The film, The Miniaturist of Junagadh is an exploration of the deepest tragedy of Indian history. The tragedy is not of a day but of countless years. It is a tragedy that cannot be packed into several words or trunks. The film evokes emotions still common in both Indian and Pakistani audiences. It erases the meaningless lines of hatred and demands humanity and compassion over futile transactions. But, most importantly, it leaves all of us soundless. Truly, silence is sonorous. It vibrates in my bones as I recall my dear grandfather’s tales. The tales I cannot help but long for, lines I cannot erase, maps I cannot chart. But, I can hope for the call to return like Husyn shall one day, for the last sip of tea, back to Junagadh.