I continue this journey of bringing the best from the realms of music, cinema, encapsulating a world of culture, with this reprise of A LETTERED SOUL.
Let this journey begin with a melody of words and the constancy of thoughts.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Kumar Shahani's Maya DARPAN(1972) is an arthouse classic that I had heard and read a lot about since the last few years. This Sunday, dated 25th of July, 2021, I finally watched it on YouTube after having saved it on my watchlist for almost a month. I know many people will wonder why I would be watching something so 'cerebral' or 'leisurely paced' on a holiday. My answer will be the same: rediscovering meaningful cinema is my forte and there should be room for every human story to be told and hence recognised through the filmmaking medium.
Maya Darpan or the mirror of illusion in English has Taran as a protagonist. Darpan also means reflection or image. Here, Taran is like a bhoot(ghost) or bhut(statue) because she is living in a somnolent state of wakefulness, which is why we find her sleeping on the bed in the very first images opening the film. This state of sleepy purgatory that divides her yearning for freedom from the prison of her mansion and societal position of upper classes is striking. It is realized in the same way here. This is prime example of a Cinema of Loneliness, such as the ones I wrote about earlier like 36, Chowringee Lane, The Spinster, Pestonjee, Mr. and Mrs. Bridge etc. ; works appropriating the exhaustion and exasperation borne from a static life.
In this instance, the sense of claustrophobia literally spoke to me, especially given the times in which we live ourselves, mostly ensconced within our homes where situations cannot always be ideal. It is worth repeating again that status and material privilege is a curse unto those born into it. This post-colonial characterisation is prevalent in pithy dialogues and mannerisms of the few people present in this screenplay. Taran becomes one with her surroundings, trapped within her 'home' and never really blossoming into acquiring a relationship with practical life. One should know that this is no case of a protagonist exploring idealized nature in the absence of a healthy familial core either. Maya Darpan's conceit is far from it, impacted by the stance of neorealism. Aditi, the singular named actor performing this routine as Taran, brings us closer to an innate understanding. If you ask me then I personally know about dozen or so people within both sides of my maternal and paternal family who were cursed into the same internal pit of fatique owing to generational pride and a lackluster attitude borne from being born to aristocratic upper echelons. So I know about tales of doom that have come to fruition owing to a resistance to change or a refusal to work like others.
***
Static shots here capture the daily continuum of that contained life, as if it is in freeze frame. An emaciated Taran, given to little verbal articulation, is essentially a robot given her inexpressive movements and vocal delivery. A voice in monotone is a corollary to her introverted foregrounding as that is what happens when we are repressed for years on end. Watch how she moves through the home like a wandering ghost, in motion yet as if carried by some mundane pattern in which she willingly doesn't want to participate. Or she has hopelessly grown used to it.
