Five stages of grief in response to a hit film on Kashmir

These atrocities were faced by citizens of the Sovereign Republic of India, who were rendered homeless and have been refugees in their own country for more than three decades. Few of us knew about it or had heard about it, but did we ever talk about it much? It is a national shame that we cannot deny anymore.

Refugees from Kashmir did not block highways or sit on railway tracks to attract attention. The courtesy of these helpless people is perhaps the most heart-wrenching aspect of this disaster. None of us deserves the grace that Kashmiri Pandits live with in the quiet dignity.

There has also been some outrage about the film, but it has ranged from minor to awkward. One, Yeh Jhooth Hai, is a “Jhooti” film, as remarked by Delhi Chief Minister Arvind Kejriwal in the state assembly. No. It’s not like that. All this happened. Every horrific incident depicted in the film is documented. There were at least some incidents more gruesome than what is shown. The reality would have been too painful for the average moviegoer.

Second, the argument that official records show that only a few dozen Kashmiri Pandits were killed. It’s funny. When your brother is murdered in broad daylight and you know the police force is completely compromised (not denied by even the strongest critics of the film), are you going to spend the time filing a complaint? , or are you going to get your family together and escape, because that’s the only real option you have? In addition, well-intentioned terrorist acts aim to create a huge ripple effect. You don’t need to kill a thousand people – it’s a waste of time, energy and ammunition. If you hang a well-known person in a public square and his body is mutilated and his eyes are taken out, then there is a huge message. The goal is achieved.

People claiming to be public intellectuals compare how many Kashmiri Pandits were killed to local Muslims and whether the use of the word ‘genocide’ according to the Oxford Dictionary is correct, or should it be, is indeed derogatory. Called ‘ethnic cleansing’ or, perhaps, ‘exodus’? The horrors and hardships endured by those who have lost everything are very real, and we bet on the calculation and semantics of death?

Three, that the movie is hardcore. How can a story documenting horrific bigotry be an act of bigotry?

Fourth, that the film hinders the process of ‘reconciliation’. This argument is absurd by any moral or practical standard. Reconciliation is possible only after accepting the truth. And it is insane to suggest that victims have a duty to forget the truth and begin reconciliation.

Five, and it’s the kind of broad-spectrum dismissal that requires no convincing evidence—that The Kashmir Files is a “propaganda film.” There can be no logical rebuttal, as it is purely a matter of opinion. The Kashmir Files is a small budget independent film that was not financed by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP); If BJP decided to make a film on Kashmir, it would have been a big production with big stars. Yes, the film has been endorsed by the BJP and the Government of India, including the Prime Minister, and has also been given tax-free status in some BJP-ruled states, but it did so after becoming a shocking hit at the box office.

No one accused the 2014 film Haider of propaganda, when it was seen supporting the ‘Azadi’ of Kashmir. In fact, any film with political or humanitarian interest, from Battleship Potemkin to Inventing Anna, can be called propaganda. It just needs someone to brand it.

Six, there is a strange demand that the makers of the film donate their earnings to Kashmiri Pandits. Has anyone ever asked the makers of Dangal, one of the highest-grossing Indian films, to share their profits with women wrestlers from Haryana, or with the makers of Chak De India to fund the Indian women’s hockey team? Thought about saying This demand reaches a new low.

The Kashmir Files responses are going through the five-stage Kubler-Ross model of experiencing grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. You start off with a contemptuous look: So there’s a film on Kashmir’s problems, and it’s on very limited release, who cares, and then you refuse to believe that every show is house-full and cinema halls. are in line to screen the film. ,

Next, you get angry: What kind of idiots are these millions of people paying to see this garbage?

The bargaining stage is of course all about death numbers and definitions: some bad things can happen, but not so many people are killed, the tales are exaggerated, and if what is depicted in the movie is true, then someone has taken on it. Why not make the movie in 32 years, which proves it’s not true, right?

The depression phase is when you find yourself banging your chest in pieces of talk shows and op-eds, that the success of this film is the final marker of India’s descent into hell.

We are now waiting for the final step, acceptance. It may never come, and perhaps most Indians couldn’t care less.

Sandipan Deb is the former editor of ‘Financial Express’ and founder-editor of ‘Open’ and ‘Swarajya’ magazines.