Jogwa

This is my first attempt at writing a Marathi film review. Until quite recently I was hardly into watching Marathi films, I was a hard-core English & Hindi movies’ fan. The very fact that many others like me, have now taken to eagerly watching Marathi films bears testimony to the fact that the Marathi films have come into their own. Their quality, substance, popularity has suddenly taken a surge and a sort of much needed re-birth, not only at the box-office but also in the viewer’s hearts. I profess myself surprised, albeit happily, that the storylines have taken a bold turn. They are more open-minded, contemporary, experimental and brazen.

One such completely unconventional, bold and groundbreaking movie is Jogwa. Not for the faint-hearted; it is a heart-wrenching tale of a society still riddled with superstitions, hypocrisy and exploitation of an oppressed community, in the hinterlands of Karnataka. Jogwa literally translated means “alms given to a person”, in this case a jogta (he-devotee) or a jogtin (she-devotee) of one goddess Yellamma, whose wrath the people of the village are afraid of. The story revolves around two protagonists Tayappa (a man played by Upendra Limaye) and Suli (a woman played by Mukta Barve) who are forced into becoming a jogta and jogtin. A jogta has to dress and live like a woman, a jogti has no rights to get married or have children. The villagers’ belief in superstitions is what feeds and fuels this outcaste of certain people and them being turned into so-called devotees of the goddess. These people include those suffering from strange or unknown diseases, people signaling so-called bad omens etc to name a few. These devotees are condemned to a hellish life of being ostracized from society, sacrificing their lives in the so-called service of the goddess, living off alms and being denied many of their rights as human beings. They are ill-treated by society, made fun of, taken advantage of sexually, viewed as nothing better than eunuchs and prostitutes and in a nutshell treated like vermin, all in the name of God. Their lives are a living hell filled with nothing but misery, woe and damnation.

Tayappa and Suli are both thus damned by a self-proclaimed messenger of the goddess. Tayappa is forced to wear a saree, bangles, necklaces et al and live and behave like a eunuch just like the other jogtas. However, he is never able to accept this fate. Hidden behind the garb of a woman he instinctively behaves and thinks like a man from within. Suli on the other hand, in spite of becoming a jogtin, dreams of love, marriage and children. Her dreams come crashing down when her lover abandons her thereby dashing any hopes she ever had of leading a normal life again.

One educated and open-minded educator tries to change the mindset of the villagers and help these distressed souls only to be laughed at and thrown out. Tayappa and Suli find a friend, confidante and companion in each other and end up falling in love. But their attempts to break away from their shackles and live normal lives do not go down well with the rest of their community and the society. The movie outlines their emotions, afflictions, betrayals, struggles and their final triumph over the very superstations and hypocrisy that destroyed their lives. Upendra Limaye and Mukta Barve’s power-packed performances are par excellence as is the direction. The music by Ajay-Atul is simply superb. The movie has won many a well-deserved National Awards. It might leave you reaching for a hanky time and again, but the happy ending showcases the triumph of perseverance and common sense over prejudice and blind faith, as it defends to death the right of every human being to a fair life and happiness.

The Gift of Hands

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder”, is so true. We never value the things we already have, running after the ones we don’t, we realize their value only when they are taken away from us by some freak twist of fate. “Ghar ki moorgi dal barabar”, you know. 

Each one of us is in that mad race for money, fame, success, that overdue promotion, that pay hike, that latest state-of-the art sleek car, that designer diamond necklace and so on and so forth. Wants, wants and more wants. Mahatma Gandhi once wisely said, “There is enough in the world for man’s need, but not his greed”. But in the midst of this insane rat race how many of us pause to think about what we already have? How many of us express our gratitude towards God for all that he has already given us. I didn’t till a few days back.

Like any normal person I too wanted this, dreamt of becoming that etc. etc. All I thought of was what I didn’t have and cribbed about it. I worked too hard to prove myself, to climb up the corporate ladder and have a meteoric career graph. I worked till my limit’s end and then went on to stretch those limits. I worked 9 – 12 hours a day regularly, even weekends sometimes. Sounds normal I know, because most people do that now-a-days. Nothing could stop me, after one achievement there was always the next rung to aim for. Suffering from constant neck and shoulder pains was routine, nothing that Iodex or a pain-relieving spray couldn’t cure. “I’ll worry about it later, I’m too young to suffer from anything serious”, I mulled. 

Then suddenly out of the blue, my left upper arm started aching beyond normal proportions. Typical of today’s fire-brand, stop-at-nothing, always on the move generation that has grown up looking for the fastest solutions, I gulped down some pain-killers and as usual did 'Iodex maliye kaam pe chaliye'. All was hunky-dory for a while and then the pain re-surfaced. This time much more aggravated. I did the same thing till my body decided it had had enough and broke into a mutiny.

I hardly slept that night, twisting and turning from one side to another as shots of blinding pain crippled by arm and shoulder. A visit to the doctor the next day revealed an appalling story of cervical spondylosis, bone degeneration, oesteopenia, muscular spasm and possible injury. Terms meant for the aged, as I’d not so long ago thought. I couldn’t lift up my hand by even an inch, its movement completely restricted by the sudden spasms of pain. I was confined to my house, had to miss work for 10 days, and could pretty much do nothing else that didn’t classify as killing time, except writing. There’s only so much you can do when you’re denied the use of the faculty of one of your hands. One hand, such a small, simple thing mundane even, that brought my life to a standstill. All my life I took my hands for granted, never thanking God once that He gave me two normal, natural, strong, beautiful hands. I was so much luckier than the unfortunate ones who are born with defects, crippled, or lose their hands in accidents.

Now I realize that one should always count one’s blessings, the very fact that we breathe is by God’s grace, but do we thank Him for that? If we don’t then it’s time to take a long, hard pause and do now.