Firaaq- A quest or separation?

All the websites tell me that the Urdu word “Firaaq� can mean both separation and a quest. And being an Urdu-illiterate that I am, I have no other choice than to accept both meanings of the word. Actually both these meanings fit very well into the context of the recent film “Firaaq� by the actor-director Nandita Das. The film chronicles a slice of everyday life in post-Godhra-riot Gujarat. Bearing an ensemble cast of actors ranging from veterans like Naseeruddin Shah and Deepti Naval, to new generation actors like Shahana Goswami and Tisca Chopra, “Firaaq� shows people trying to come in to terms with personal disaster, trauma and the general disheveling effect that the riots had on them.

In an ambience where communal tension lurks around at every turn, a struggling couple return from their hidings to find their house completely burnt down, and the wife Muneera (Shahana Goswami) starts suspecting the complicity of her own best friend in the crime, while her husband is swept into a rage of hatred and tries to acquire weapons illegally to avenge himself on people who brought upon this misfortune on him . Three helpless men, beyond themselves with rage, try to locate and obtain a pistol to shoot a local goon who killed their loved ones in the riot. A wealthy doctor Sameer Shaikh (Sanjay Suri) and his wife Anuradha (Tisca Chopra) try to leave the riot ridden land and relocate to Delhi after his shop was burnt down. A little, orphaned boy Mohsin (Mohammad Samad) searches for his lost father in the refugee camps and away from it. A shrewd and materialistic man (Paresh Rawal) tries to help his brother who participated in a gang rape during the riots, while his wife (Deepti Naval) still tries to cope with the nightmares of the riot. The film claims to be based on a “thousand different true stories�. Indeed, the camera weaves these disjointed every day events into one motley fabric whereby every one is reaching out in a quest of peace, or a lost loved one or one’s own lost dignity.

The film has been made well enough to strike a chord in the hearts of any audience across cultures and geographical boundaries. For a film that has almost minimal violence shown on screen, the palpable communal tension in the air, the subliminal violence ready to burst forth at the slightest provocation, the air of mutual distrust, the fear of being the next victim looms on every character of the film, and carries well out to the audience. A powerhouse performance comes from Naseeruddin Shah, who portrays a musician lost in his world of poetry and ghazals, while his manservant (Raghuveer Yadav) tries to keep the grisly news of the riots as far away from him as possible. Deepti Naval, who makes a terrific comeback gives a, there-is-no-other-word-for-it, haunting portrayal of a housewife, shaken by the violence around her. It is good to see Das behind the camera and her obvious control and mastery over the art of film-making. A few years of experience, and we could have a poignant, observant film-maker, which India is in dire need of, to at least give modern hindi cinema a respectable platform in the arena of world cinema.

Perhaps the most powerful and poignant shot of the whole film is the last one, where the camera focuses on young Mohsin’s face, who sits supporting his back on a wall in the refugee camp, anguish written all over his face, as he scans the crowd for his father. That shot, with the story of loss and cruelty etched upon the face of his innocence raises a question that is pertinent over the barriers of nature, politics and of course, religion- is this the world that the children inherit today?