film festival “Women, Media and Society: Transformations”

On March, 8 I attended a film festival of documentaries shooted by female film makers “Women, Media and Society: Transformations”. The event was held in India International Centre to mark International Women’s Day.

In course of the event it became obvious to me that there are many ways to address and speak about women’s issues. One may conduct a study on some topic to estimate scale and scope of the problem. Another may organize events and panel discussions to generate public awareness. Some would write a post, an article, a poem or a book to provoke thinking. Someone else would go around with a camera to document and screen the reality that passes unnoticed for many people. It is actually puzzling to think what would have a stronger impact… Read in a newspaper that 30% of women in their lives get raped? Or once hear a narrative of a raped woman? Or just look in her eyes?…

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From “For Maya” by Vasudha Joshi.

An old lady in her 60s or 70s narrates a story about her neighbourhood where a blackboard on the street was used for the announcements, gossips etc. From a very young age she had wanted to write on the blackboard, but her father told her “You cannot, because you are a girl”. Time passed, she got older and older and she still did not get permission to write there. Her 60s passed, and 70s came and once she lost a purse at the market. She made up her mind – the time is now – and came up to the blackboard. A men nearby gave her chalk and said, “Go ahead”. She wrote down that she lost her purse and asked to return it to X. Next day she saw a message below hers saying that she could pick up her purse at place Y. Little embarrassed by her own confessions with laugher and tears she says that after all the dream of all her life came true – she wrote on the blackboard.

To me this is one of the most touching stories I have ever heard. It is amazing how one simple wish could take so long to fulfil. This is not about writing on the blackboard after all. This is an account of denial of basic rights – access to the public space, right to be recognized, right to speak up your aspirations and right to be heard. I have been reading quiet a while about all that before, but I never took it as close to my heart as after the documentary. Is not that eye-opening to find out that what you do on a routine basis and take for granted is a significant undertaking and even a rebellious act for some?
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Undoubtedly, narrative power of documentaries is hard to overestimate. However, it seems hard to get access to masses with a non-commercial documentary. So, no way to negotiate value of large-scale awareness campaigns and far-reaching written word.

It is interesting to note that many of the films screened are in fact reflections on personal experiences of the film makers themselves. According to Samina Mishra, this is an act of shifting boundaries between world and ourselves, so that to define ourselves at the end of the day. The material comes out as a very emotional, fragile open-up. What adds to this impression is a female touch that creates great aesthetic appeal in most of the documentaries. They are just beautifully done – with mood-transmitting scenes, landscapes, interiors, with right lightning, colours, shades, with carefully selected music, thought-through scripts and prominent characters. Forms varying from almost continuous shooting vs. dramatised script.

Yet, how valued a personal account could be? How powerful? How to enable other people to relate to that? How to make the public get as passionate about your grandma as you are, as interested in the history of your family as you might be? Some manage better, some do not at all..

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From “The House on Gulmohar Avenue” by Samina Mishra

The documentary tells us something about what it takes to be a Muslim woman in India. It is a story about Muslim community in Delhi, concentrated in Jamia Nagar and Zakir Nagar in South-West Delhi. The narrative is woven with stories told by many people: Samira’s mother, who being a Muslim, married a Hindu man, and had to strive for the acceptance by his family; a young woman, resident of Jamia, who tells how driving from Delhi rickshawmen would stop at the border of Jamia Nagar not willing to bring her further; Samira’s uncle who stays in this place only and sees no reasons to move out; a man who tells how his was refused in a credit card as a resident of Zakir Nagar, with his network he managed to get the card anyway, but he said it was scary to find yourself in the shoes of a common man; Samira and her Hindu husband; and many other residents of Jamia Nagar and Zakir Nagar. The film poses a whole range of questions. Samira herself does not look like a typical Muslim woman – western clothes and open mind. What is Muslim woman anyway? Does Western clothes and open mind make her less Muslim? – She herself asks…

The movie is not difficult to relate with even if you are not a Muslim women living in India. In fact, the film raises much broader questions of identity and belonging. Is your belonging based on geography, nationality, religion or gender? Can it be based on all of them and that would be you leading identity? What strengthens your identity and what weakens it? Can two controversial identities co-exist in you?
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A film can provoke thinking and enable people to relate to it once it captures features that would have social relevance, once it pictures typical characters and commonalities. It would never substitute statistics. But it would let aloud the voices behind the numbers.