Last week, in the myriad symbols of constipation that “Piku” proffered, writer Juhi Chaturvedi also burst the gas of virginity that shrouded the Hindi film heroine for a long time without shouting from the roof tops. Bhaskar Banerjee, the father of “Piku” tells a prospective suitor that his daughter is not a virgin. She is not only financially independent but sexually as well. It is written in such an every day manner that the audience don’t need an antacid to digest it. Piku is not just multi-tasking, she moves on different planes simultaneously. Her rational approach doesn’t make her an atheist. She wants to clear the office files and the kitchen sink with equal gusto.
Juhi, who earlier struck a rapport with the audience with her refreshing take on the contours of mother-in-law and daughter-in-law bond, in “Vicky Donor”, says Piku is a girl of 2015 and she doesn’t need to reflect on what a Hindi film heroine has been doing all these years. “The film is for transparency between father and daughter. In many of our films the youngsters boast about their relationships but when it comes to sharing them with their parents the film goes silent.” In a way it is an antithesis to “Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge” where the daughter took the entire film to tell the father about what she wants. Juhi says Bhaskar is not against marriage. “He says marriage should have a purpose. A girl is not for serving food during the day and to have sex at night.”
Do such fathers exist around us? “Many father these days know what their daughters are up to. They might not talk about it. And even if they don’t I would like to see them.” The film strikes at the roots of the conservative values, but Juhi holds that values change. “I come from Lucknow, a city known for its conservative values but my parents allowed me to stay alone in Delhi and never questioned me about my relationships.” She goes on to add that this doesn’t mean morality has no value. “Piku is not sleeping around with 10 men. And she is not a teenager. She is 30 and the film clearly talks about sex as a need.” Where it leaves the male character? Is he in danger of becoming a weaker sex, at least on screen? Piku’s friend Syed comes with benefits but doesn’t demand his territory. Rana also knows where to draw the line. Juhi says these are mature men who know that the emotional and physical needs of a woman are different and it is not always that she finds a man who can fulfil both. Does such independence threaten the social fabric? “At the end Piku says that her father has given her enough to be in control of her life but it doesn’t mean she is not giving her relationship with Rana a chance.”
Director Aanand L Rai is no different from Juhi. Much before “Queen” happened, he gave us Tanu, a small town girl who could take on any city girl in confidence and cool quotient. As he comes up with the sequel of “Tanu Weds Manu” where Tanu gets a lookalike in the form of Datto, a Haryanvi athlete, Aanand says he wants to explore life after marriage. It used to be a subject of TV serials and his brother Ravi Rai was a master of it. Now Hindi cinema is rediscovering the details of domesticity, Aanand is at work. “Life doesn’t end with marriage. I wanted to discover it.” But even before you say it he says, “It is not about extra-marital affair. I always feel a director’s personality reflects in his work and for me it is not an extra-marital affair.”
He said something similar when a section of intelligentsia termed “Ranjhaana” as a showcase for stalking. “The way I have been brought up there is a middle class boy in me. I am able to read my audience better because I am one of them. The majority is me. The people who were talking about it as stalking were actually staying at the 40th floor of a sea facing South Mumbai housing society. They don’t understand that in small towns holding hand is still difficult. I am giving a new perspective to real India.”
Aanand says he always knew that Tanu is the new Bollywood girl. “She comes from a small town and is no less than any metro girl because small town is breaking its stereotypes. There are Café Coffee Days, there is Internet and there is aspiration.” When it comes to confidence, Aanand says Datto is no different from Tanu.
“If one can make London run around her the other one can run around London. Both don’t want to be used as a commodity and both are not dependent on men.” For him Datto is reflection of the rise of the Haryanvi women. “They are equally adept at kitchen and the ring and if they prefer to be in the kitchen it is their choice.”
Both Juhi and Aanand are excited at the response of the industry and the audience. “What I am excited about is the originality of the stories. Good, bad or ugly they are original. It is not that I saw some Korean film and am trying to adapt it. I can see a small town from a different perspective,” says Aanand.
Is it becoming nostalgic for the guy who migrated from a small town and now can pay Rs. 250 for a film ticket and splurge on the popcorn and cold drink?
“In a way, yes because NRI romance or shooting abroad is no longer aspirational. Today a middle class family can afford to go to London by saving some money. The audience wants to stay with something realistic, rooted. He wants to spend some time with Tanu or Rani.”
Taking a cue from her character Bhaskar, Juhi sums up, “The audience is always high IQ. It is the writers and directors who have to catch up.”
