Nakkash’s sights and sounds are what we hardly hear or see

Anil Maheshwari

God save us from this elitist approach. We love to talk about M.S. Sathu’s Garam Hawa, Anubhav Sinha’s Mulk, stories of Rahi Masoom Raza and Manto because they have found their space in the elitist group. Who cares for the latest movie by Zaigham Imam ‘Nakkash’ (2019). He quit vernacular journalism to join Bollywood. During the last five years, he has produced three movies, all depicting the genuine problems of Muslims.

Nakkash: Two turrets of a Hindu temple flank a crescent moon. A man tiptoes down the stairs, slings a saffron pouch, and rides off. At the ghat, he offers the first namaz of day.
One scene, in particular, may be stuck with the audience. “Who is Bhagwan?” asks the protagonist’s son. “Allah miya ke bhai,” comes the reply. It’s the plainest translation anyone has ever drawn of universal brotherhood, but perhaps that’s what makes it so effective. Sometimes children need to be taught in children’s terms. And so does a nation. n. or the privileged on either side of the religious divide. That Quran doesn’t prohibit you from working for another religion; it rather encourages such acts because it creates fellowship and fraternity. Nakkash is a well-intentioned film that does not overstate its bravery. .

Zaigham has a lot to say about communal tensions in Uttar Pradesh, but approaches his film calmly. Some details are fetching: the boy calls his father’s best friend ‘ammi’; a man reciting the Gayatri Mantra in Urdu gets confused for singing a qawwali.

The film’s main conflict builds up in the second half when a newspaper article on Allah Rakha causes local politician Munna Bhaiya, son of Bhagwan Das Vedanti to lose his candidature from a particular political party. There are direct references to lynching and encounter killings, as well as the majoritarian politics being played in the country. It all feels very urgent and nonpartisan.
There is the loud and clear message of keeping religion away from politics in the movie— the belief in karm ki rajneeti, not dharm ki (politics based on deeds rather than religion). Nakkash highlights the remnants of the Ganga-Jamuni tehzeeb (syncretic culture) that is on the verge of collapse. Mahaul theek nahin hai (The atmosphere is not quite conducive) is a phrase repeated constantly. Aapsi sadbhav samapt ho raha hai (The harmony is disappearing) is another.

It’s about kaam versus qaum (livelihood as against community) split, the fear and loneliness that comes with treading a tangential path. Director, Zaigham Imam lays bare the lives of the ordinary, lower class Muslims, their daily routines in Varanasi, Lucknow and Jaunpur. And it’s one of them – Siddiqui – who talks more sense than the learned or the privileged on either side of the religious divide. That Quran doesn’t prohibit you from working for another religion; it rather encourages such acts because it creates fellowship and fraternity. Nakkash is a well-intentioned film that does not overstate its bravery.

One scene, in particular, may be stuck with the audience. “Who is Bhagwan?” asks the protagonist’s son. “Allah miya ke bhai,” comes the reply. It’s the plainest translation anyone has ever drawn of universal brotherhood, but perhaps that’s what makes it so effective. Sometimes children need to be taught in children’s terms. And so does a nation.

Imam doesn’t show religion itself at fault but the misinterpretation of it. Some simple lines are resonant with that pious and sacred logic.

The story is fairly simple and straightforward too, but in these times when the obvious often gets drowned in loud, rhetorical grandstanding, it serves as a cautionary tale – of an India that was and an India that is perceived by a majority in a community as fast turning into a nation where the space for anyone other than the member of the majority community is receding at a scary and alarming space.

Nakkash’s sights and sounds are what we hardly hear or see these days on our screens –qawwali, nikkah, a modern woman in a burqa, men in skull caps without the looming spectre of terrorism.
Nakkash is important – because it refuses to let us slip into complacency. It is a good thing when movies remind us that democracy, secularism cannot and must not be taken for granted. It is a good thing when movies tell us that our job is not done just by standing proudly and humming along when Jan Gan Man is played on the screen.

The story is fairly simple and straightforward too, but in these times when the obvious often gets drowned in loud, rhetorical grandstanding, it serves as a cautionary tale – of an India that was and an India that is perceived by a majority in a community as fast turning into a nation where the space for anyone other than the member of the majority community is receding at a scary and alarming space. Nakkash’s sights and sounds are what we hardly hear or see these days on our screens –qawwali, nikkah, a modern woman in a burqa, men in skull caps without the looming spectre of terrorism.

Nakkash is important – because it refuses to let us slip into complacency. It is a good thing when movies remind us that democracy, secularism cannot and must not be taken for granted. It is a good thing when movies tell us that our job is not done just by standing proudly and humming along when Jan Gan Man is played on the screen.