Ashvin Kumar’s No Fathers in Kashmir delves into the issue of half-widows in the Valley through the prism of two teenagers. But the director is way more deeply connected with the place than just by the way of the film, discovers Saimi Sattar

If I hadn’t been nominated for an Oscar or won a few national awards, you would not have been in this car interviewing me,” says Ashvin Kumar emphatically. He is on his way to the airport after a whirlwind visit of Delhi where his latest film No Fathers in Kashmir was screened for a select audience. The director, whose previous offerings Inshallah Kashmir, Inshallah Football and Little Terrorist — all of which touched upon different aspects of human tragedy that afflict the northernmost state of India — does not believe in mincing words. Whether he is talking of the situation in Kashmir, the government of the day, the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC), Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA) or even the apathy of the educated and the well-heeled towards everything that doesn’t affect them directly, says it like it is.

It has been a little tough nailing him down for the interview as Ashvin, who is the elder son of fashion designer Ritu Kumar, has been busy with studio visits, interviews and screening his latest film based on the half-widows of Kashmir. With a mix of cast starring Soni Razdan and Kulbhushan Kharbanda as well as newcomers Zara Webb and Shivam Raina, the film has been praised by the likes of Mira Nair, Kalki Koechlin and Rasika Dugal.

No Fathers... has been delayed for several months as it was submitted to the censor board on July 15 last year and finally got the U/A certification on March 28. “I would say the censors have run into trouble with me. I had gone to Kashmir, seen something and expressed myself as an artist. The Censor Board needs to introspect as to what they find so objectionable about it,” he says and points out that initially, the board did not view the film and later appointed a committee that raised a whole lot of concerns and suggested cuts.

“We took this to the Film Certification Appellate Tribunal (FCAT) which sent it back. Instead of getting the same people to watch, they constituted a fresh board, which meant that all the objections which kept the film on hold for five months were okayed and a completely new set of concerns were raised. It was nothing but vindictiveness because we dared to go back,” he says, matter-of-factly without a trace of rancour in his voice.

However, going back to the film, he says, “It is actually a light-hearted romp which portrays the irreverence and mischief of youth. Two kids, Noor and Majid, fall in love and have their first heartbreak. It is a universal experience and we all have been through it. It makes you nostalgic of the time in youth when you are told not to do something but you go ahead and do it nevertheless because you think you are an adult as you are 16. In Kashmir, it is very difficult to dream or be innocent.”

The children in his film are searching for their fathers which brings back the problem of half-widows in the state. “The soul of the film lies in the three generations of grandmother, mother and daughter, and through their eyes and dilemmas, one can see individual relationships with each other and people around. It helps  you to appreciate what impact a conflict can have on a family. How a simple and innocuous question — ‘Why didn't you tell me that my father was picked up?’ — has some very complicated answers. How do you tell that to a child? And what does that even mean? It makes adults and children confront issues that should not be a part of the lexicon. These should be expunged from our books as they do not have a place in modern democracy,” says the youngest Oscar nominee.

Ashvin has used Chol Homa Roshay, a song written by the 16th century poetess Habba Khatoon, to deepen the narrative in many ways. “It is a folk anthem in Kashmir just like Padharo Mhare Desh for Rajasthan. It has been interpreted and re-interpreted over the years. The poetess was the wife of the last king of Kashmir, Yusuf Shah Chak. He was called by Emperor Akbar for parleys in Allahabad but was never sent back as he was imprisoned. So the song is about her looking for her lost love wandering in the hills, valleys and streams of Kashmir. It is a kind of anthem for half-widows,” he says.

Ashvin is not new to controversy. His earlier films too had been in the news. Inshallah Football faced trouble when Sharmila Tagore was the censor board chief. “Both the Inshallah films had taught me how to write so that they would find this one hard to ban. The cuts in this film were entirely cosmetic. Other than mutilating and compromising the film artistically, they made no qualitative difference to its message nor did these dilute the critique of the armed forces, militants or any other agency. After all, it was difficult to figure out what to ban in the story of a 16-year-old looking for her father,” says Ashvin.

After his run-in, yet again, he reiterates a demand that has found resonance among many filmmakers and actors that the censor board should only certify the watchability of the film for children. “It is not the guardian angel of sovereignty or of contemporary morality or armed forces. These institutions are robust and can look after themselves. If you give the chowkidar a lathi, he is bound to use it. They do not have any idea of artistic integrity or cinema,” he says and to prove his point further, adds that he finds a lot of things in mainstream cinema that “typify, objectify and vilify women and other communities, and are unpalatable gross and vulgar.” However, he argues that he was no one to stop these filmmakers from making what they want. “I will simply exercise my choice not to watch it,” he shrugs and goes on to say, “We are a mature, sensible democracy and I cannot believe that this audience is not ready to see a nuanced and complex narrative.”

However, it is not just the censor board’s displeasure that Ashvin has had to bear. Dazed in the Doon, a film that he made on his alma mater, was objected to by some of the alumna and its DVDs were destroyed. “The most educated, well-travelled, well-heeled bunch of people who form the most privileged part of society are not able to tolerate dissent. What is the point of such an education? It is completely contrary to the spirit of school and constitution. Some issues were raised about bullying, ragging and hazing in the film which do happen in the school and were not outrageous. I had spent six months of making this film in the school that I went to. It is the most touching, sweetest film I have made,” he says, adding that he has moved on...

However, it is not just in cinema that the director feels that censoring anything or banning is a cause for concern. The same, he feels, holds true for Kashmir, the place with which the director has a special relationship. “As a teenager, I spent a lot of time in Kashmir. It was in Gulmarg that I held a girl’s hand for the first time. I had some of the most long-lasting and enduring memories there. After the armed insurgency broke out in 1989, we stopped visiting the Valley. When I went back after 20 years in 2009, I was horrified to see the deaths, devastations and destruction of the warm and beautiful people. One’s heart really went out to the Kashmiris,” he says. However, more than that, he feels what is more objectionable is the Valley’s one-sided narrative. “What was more outrageous was the why and how of the level of atrocities that were being perpetrated was not communicated with as much gusto and fervour as the dastardly acts of terror. The narrative is purposefully structured, monitored and moulded to present a one-sided picture to create a sense of suspicion and hostility. The resolution of conflict does not happen when you hide the truth. It happens when you are able to tell it and create a nuanced vision among the public,” says the 46-year-old. He says this kind of information has inevitably resulted in caricatures on both sides. “The vision of an Indian in Kashmir is a man wearing camouflage and boots, carrying a gun, frisking you and looking at your mother or sister in an unflattering way and is responsible for all the inconveniences that you have to face, whether it is a curfew or a crackdown. While the vision of the average Kashmiri in the eyes of the average Indian is a kid who is throwing stones wearing a mask. Or an even more sinister figure in a mask, carrying a gun and engaging the armed forces in a match to the quickest route to martyrdom and jihad,” says the Doon-school alumni.

It is in order to fight against these stereotypes that his films have tried to look at the existing humanity. “Kashmir is a crisis of compassion and not so much of politics or social issues. Once we become compassionate, put ourselves in their shoes and understand their choices rather than doing it from armchairs of Delhi, we will realise that living that kind of life isn’t as easy,” he says.

And it is not just the institutions that he blames, but media too comes in for its share of flak. He says that while the contours of both sides of the stories of strife — from places like Nagaland, Chhattisgarh, Assam and more, or of adivasis lands being taken away or farmers committing suicide — have been reported, in case of Kashmir, it is absent. He says, “It is the only place where media and the government act in total collusion as the former is afraid to toe anything but the government line.” He says that without dissent, which is the safety valve of democracy, a pressure cooker-like situation emerges.

On the other hand, Ashvin feels that Kashmir is being used to divert attention from a lot of other issues. “I am no longer surprised that whenever something happens in the country, a major encounter takes place in the Valley. There are enough people in the payroll whose job descriptions also include fomenting trouble in the Valley and I also play one such character in the film.”

Ashvin believes that a lot of blame does lie with the governments over the years that have created the Kashmir conundrum. “I am not a violent person and do not advocate gun violence or blood on the street. But at the same time, contrary to the current narrative, I believe that it’s a deeply patriotic act to call out the institutions if they are found wanting so that they can self-correct. We have an abominable law called the AFSPA, which was put into place to control violence for few years. It has been there for 30 years and needs to be reviewed as does the Public Safety Act,” he explains.

Ashvin believes that the armed forces should be pulled back from civilian areas and sent back to the border where they belong as they have become deeply compromised. “I want my country to work in a fair manner for all citizens and if people are feeling alienated, then we need to listen to their grievances, no matter how fractious. If the people of Kashmir say that all they are going to do is stand around and shout slogans, then we should certainly listen to their voices. If we imprison selective people, we do not have the buffer or even the conjugate to talk to ordinary people. A more rational view is needed,” he says.

However, the director is not completely negative about the way to get out of this morass. “To get out of this nexus, the youth of India should demand information from the MPs of their area whether they have a Kashmir policy. And if not, why?” In his film, he has tried to address the solution through the millenials, who, he believes, hold the key in real life as well. “They are not encumbered with the baggage of Partition and religious divides which have been whipped up in such a callous and dangerous way. They are interested in upward mobility and have had the luxury of choices and opportunities that their Kashmiri counterparts haven’t. It’s up to these Indians to appreciate what is happening there,” says he.

And there is a reason that he insists the move should come from the ordinary people. “It is not the Army, government or institutions that end civilisations, it is the apathy of the educated, well-travelled, upwardly mobile people that does. If they do not take a stand, and speak up, who else will? We should look at ourselves and ask what have you done today for enlightening the rest of the world. If you can see through the propaganda, the hate and the polemics, then it becomes your business to take a stand. But the problem is that not many of us are doing it. We are easily cowed down by various forces,” says the director who is of slight build but clearly does not lack when it comes to standing by the conviction of his beliefs.

Strong words those. But then, maybe after the strong-arm tactics, that is what we need, the balm of compassion.