In their book Borders and Boundaries, editors Ritu Menon and Kamla Bhasin write: “As an event of shattering consequence, Partition retains its pre-eminence even today, despite two wars on our borders and wave after wave of communal violence. … Each new eruption of hostility or expression of difference swiftly recalls that bitter and divisive erosion of social relations between Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs, and each episode of brutality is measured against what was experienced then.”
This statement speaks directly to the premise of Pakistani director Mehreen Jabar’s debut film Ramchand Pakistani, which recently premiered in NY at the Tribeca Film Festival. Based on a series of true events which took place in 2002—during a period where India and Pakistan were on the brink of war—it is the story of one innocent Hindu Dalit family which became a victim of the national hostilities that have permeated Indo-Pak relations since partition.
The story begins in a small, dusty border village in on the Pakistan side of the Thar desert. Ramchand (Fazal Hussain) is the willful, naughty son of a Hindu Dalit farmer Shankar (Rashid Farooqi) and his wife Champa (played by Nandita Das). One morning, when Ramchand gets into an argument with his mother, he skips school and goes for a walk in the desert terrain bordering his father’s farm. Without realizing it, he crosses over into Indian territory. His father follows him to bring him back, but it’s too late. Indian patrol officers, suspicious of their motives (“Are you Pakistani spies?”) take both of them into custody.
For the next five years, Ramchand and his father are trapped in a bureaucratic prison system in India, where despite the lack of evidence that they did anything wrong, it is impossible to release them because of a longstanding battle of wills between the Indian and Pakistani governments. The film follows Ramchand’s coming of age in a prison where he and his father share a cell with Indians and Pakistanis, many of whom made the mistake of “crossing over” and have gotten lost in the shuffle.
The prison cell is a metaphor for communal relations – in a tiny space, men of different regions and religions are forced to coexist—and, in the process, come to realize what they have in common—a desire for freedom—far outweighs their differences. In the prison, we have the expected characters—the mad man, the gentle old man, the mullah, the pimp, the pervert, the local politician, 
as well as the surprising character of the female security officer Kamla (Maria Wasti) who becomes Ramchand’s teacher (and first crush) and learns a little something about her own caste prejudices. These characters make for interesting conflicts and challenges to the young Ramchand and shape his development into a young man whose main goal is survival … just like his mother Champa, who is struggling to go on with her life. The movie switches gracefully between the Pakistani village where Champa’s “life must go on” and the Indian prison, showing us the passage of time, the pain, and the helplessness that this small family must confront.
Director Mehreen Jabar’s father Javed Jabbar is a well-known Pakistani writer and producer. He came up with the idea for this film, after reading a series of newspaper articles about a father and son who were kept in India after an accidental border crossing. What drew Mehreen Jabar to this film? “For one, it was the simplicity of it: a family separated for no fault of their own and forcibly put into a situation where they have to deal with circumstances not of their making,” she says in the director’s statement. “With this simple story came layers upon layers of subtext—about relationships, discrimination and the politics of the region—told not in a propagandist way but rather through the eyes of a child and a woman.”
A memorable soundtrack by Shubha Mudgal and Debajyoti Mishra, both Indian musicians, one of my favorite lead Indian actresses, a largely Pakistani cast, and shooting in Pakistan make this a film whose very collaborative making broke down some of the borders and barriers it speaks of. Nandita Das had to get special permission from the Indian Pakistani (thanks for the correction Chachaji) government to star in this film, for example. The music was recorded in Mumbai. And, the prison set in the film was based on the main jail in the town of Bhuj, Gujarat, close to where the original father and son were held as prisoners. Director Mehreen Jabar and her producer visited this prison and subsequently recreated it on the outskirts of Karachi. “It was the only location in Pakistan other than the Indian High Commission in Islamabad, where the Indian flag flew at full mast for about 3 to 4 weeks,” Jabbar says.
The result is a moving and poetic film which brings an ongoing issue into our line of vision without being overly dramatic or cliched. A quick search of news reports shows that the grim predicament of Indian and Pakistani prisoners is still a reality. See this news of a recent release of two young Pakistani boys from an Indian prison.
Ramchand Pakistani is on its way to the Seattle Film Festival later this month, and hopefully, will arrive at a city near you soon.
