Ira Bhaskar

This article appeared originally in Journal of Arts and Ideas, April-June 1983.

 

As powerful as the myth of Sita in Hindu mythology is the myth of the Mother Goddess. Ritwik Ghatak is one of the very few film makers to have made the protagonist of his film an archetypal Mother Goddess, and the following account of it is presented as a counterpoint to prevailing images of women in commercial Indian cinema.

From time immemorial man has grappled with his unconscious and attempted to apprehend it at various levels. In the process, certain archetypes have been projected from the recesses of his collective unconscious. These are peculiar to different civilizations, but a recurring one is that of the Mother Goddess. The process of birth and the sustenance of life must have fascinated and intrigued primitive man, who sought a simplistic comprehension of it. His bewilderment at the cycle of birth, death and regeneration was externalized in the creation of the archetype of the Mother Goddess. In this simplistic resolution he touched upon a profound universal. The mythic process of externalizing and making abstract primordial rhythms had begun.

This process in its cyclical pattern moved from abstraction to concretization through rituals. A renewal of faith and an obeisance to the unknown, the ritual literalized the 'supranormal' qualities that the mythic figure had been consecrated with. Having brought the abstraction to a comprehensible level, ritual made possible a living experience of myth. This archetypal reaction contains within it the seed of all artistic expression. Thus, myth and ritual lie at the very root of art.

Within the cinematic medium few artists have been as sensitive to these underlying structures as Ritwik Ghatak (1925-76). 'Comparative mythology illustrates certain fundamentals of art ... for example, the archetypes. The social, collective unconscious was present even before men became complete. All the deepest feeling of mankind originates here and certain archetypes control the reaction of man to different situations. ...The archetype manifests itself as a symbol through images.' This deep concern with archetypes informs the main body of his work. Orchestrated repeatedly in all his films, the concern is best integrated in Meghe Dhaka Tara (1960).

The film depicts the struggle of a working girl to support her refugee family in post-partition Bengal. Nita, the protagonist is exploited by her parasitic family. The crippled and defenceless father and the bitter, conniving mother have been broken by the traumatic upheaval in their past. Unable to provide for their family, they look to the eldest daughter for succour. The whims and fancies of her petty, self-centred younger sister (Gita) and brother (Montu) result in further demands being made on her. The elder brother Shankar, who is obsessed by the desire to become a classical musician, remains her only sympathizer. Yet, being unemployed and in need of sympathy and encouragement himself, he is more dependent on her than are the rest of the family. Sanat, with whom she is in love, betrays her idealism and faith by discontinuing his research and marrying her sister Gita. Suffocated by the oppressive claims made on her, her isolation is complete when the people in her life become established and go their own ways. Gita and Sanat are mired in the mediocrity of their marriage; fledgling Montu finds his wings and leaves the nest, and Shankar returns as a musician of repute. The now complacent mother has no further use for Nita who is now relegated to a peripheral role. Nita realizes her alienation — 'I was watching how all of you are established now. I am free as I was in my childhood' — an ironic reference to an idyllic childhood experience in the hills. She contracts TB and is further ostracized until the shattered father, in a moment of desperation, bids her leave the house.

Shankar, the successful musician, has arranged for Nita's convalescence in a Shillong sanatorium: 'You are at last going to the hills.' The hills recur consistently in Nita's story. They represent to her the freedom of childhood and the elevation to a heightened state of existence; and she yearns for them as a symbol of release from the bondage of a mundane life. In Ghatak's words, 'the earliest example of art-work we get belongs to the paleolithic age in the naked Mother Goddess. ... This Great Mother is still haunting the consciousness of the people.'

Nita, in Meghe Dhaka Tara is unconsciously creating and perpetuating this archetype. Yet it would be naive to conceive Nita as the embodiment of the Mother Goddess herself. The female principle of Shakti is a fusion of Jagatdhhatri, the benevolent image of the eternal giver, with Kali, the malevolent and destructive aspect. This duality is the keystone of Hindu cosmogony and Heinrich Zimmer has summed it up succinctly: 'The creative principle and the destructive are one and the same. Both are in unison in the divine cosmic energy that becomes manifest in the process of the biography and history of the universe.' Ghatak attempts to function with the totality of this complex archetype.

A prevalent story about the genesis of Durga is the concept of Havyagni (oblation to the sacrificial fire). In the ritual of the Havan (the act of consigning mortal offerings to the sacrificial flames) is symbolized the surrender of human desires and aspirations, which are carried to the heavens with the smoke of the flames. It is believed that Durga was born of this smoke as a transmutation of human desires, taking the form of Jagatdhhatri, the universal sustainer. One of the central images associated with Nita is the courtyard, where the ambitions of the rest of the family appear to be constantly expressed. Montu's desire for football shoes, Gita's craving for a new saree, Shankar's need for money and an emotional base to nurture his ambition, or the mother's incessant carping about sustaining her family are the selfish aspirations poured out in the courtyard, the symbolic yagna-mandapa, from which Nita is manifested in the role of the Provider and Creator. Composed centrally in the courtyard, she is ruthlessly relegated to the periphery (both cinematically and metaphorically) when her utility is over.

The other motifs for Nita are the tree and water, ancient images for Prakriti (Nature). While the tree provides shelter and refuge, water has always been associated with the primal force of creation. Interestingly enough, whenever Shankar is singing, the tree and water are elements of the cinematic composition. While he is immersed in the invocation to the Great Mother, asking for the boon of music and guna (quality) Nita often passes by on her way home, emerging from a huge, spreading banyan tree. On one such occasion he notices the passing figure and runs after her only to discover that it is a friend of Nita's. The overtones of this scene are realized only in the last sequence of the film. Returning from the hills after Nita's death, Shankar stops at the general store and Bangshi (the grocer) comments. 'No one remembers her now.' Shankar looks away only to see the friend pass by, stop and pick up her broken slipper (a characteristic gesture of Nita). Looking back, she smiles and continues on her way. Unable to contain himself Shankar breaks down. The archetypal Jagatdhhatri is thus manifested 'as a symbol through images'.

A significant relationship is built up at a deeper level between Nita and her mother. Associated with the hearth and the sound of boiling rice, the mother is the titular provider of the family. Unable to fulfil her responsibilities because of her decrepit husband, she preys upon Nita in order to keep the hearth going. Thus she perpetuates the image of Chandi, feeding upon life to sustain life. Threatened at the prospect of Nita marrying Sanat, she thwarts their relationship by tacitly encouraging Gita's flirtations — the sensual extension of the female principle. When the father objects to the marriage of Gita and Sanat, she retorts, 'What will you eat if Nita goes?' Oblivious to Nita's agony, she prepares for the impending wedding with all the enthusiasm of a bride's mother. She does not even balk at the blatant suggestion of a life of continued sterility for Nita, also a daughter. In taking the latter's gold bangles for Gita, the mother destroys any illusion of fulfilment in love and marriage that Nita may have harboured. The realization of the destructive, militant Kali image is complete. Nita is sacrificed so that the rest of her family may survive. The deconsecration of Nita has begun.

Deconsecration is the final phase of ritual whereby the concretization of myth returns to its state of abstraction. All the implications of the archetype that Nita is living are set off by the Baul song, used repeatedly in the film. Evoking the ritual of the immersion of Durga, it foreshadows the end of Nita herself. Legend has it that Durga spends five days at her father's house (on earth) and then returns to her consort, Mahadeva. The enactment of the immersion to the strain of holy chants and folk songs — 'Come Durga, come to me' — is the ritualistic deconsecration of the Durga image. The return to the elemental state is therefore achieved by destruction. The Baul song (with this association) recurs at the various points in the film which contribute to the destruction of Nita: when Sanat hints that he cannot wait very long, at the time of Gita's marriage, when it is discovered that Nita has TB, and finally when she leaves her home. On this last occasion the camera closes in on Nita's rain-drenched face and the suggestion of immersion in the regenerating rain is obvious. From this close-up, Ghatak cuts to a shot of the hills. Through destruction, release and regeneration have become possible.

It is tempting to interpret Nita's final plea, 'I want to live', as a failure of the life-impulse and the negation of the Mother Goddess. But Nita has always been trapped in human conflict while perpetuating the archetypal image. This dying statement sums up the tragic realization of her frustrated existence. Cast in the mould of the classical tragic protagonist, Nita destroys herself in the quest for identity. Unconsciously subscribing to the archetypal image in this quest, her actions at the human level are motivated by a desire to fulfil herself. Conscious of her ordinariness, she attempts self-realization in the achievements of Sanat and Shankar. With the tragic reversal comes the anignorisis (self-realization) — 'I've committed a great sin, I never protested.' As with Oedipus, in her destruction lies the rejuvenation of the community.

In Nita's reunion with the hills, a symbol of eternity and Mahadeva, the regeneration of the archetype is effected. After the ritualistic deconsecration, Durga returns to her consort in the symbolic union of Prakriti and Purusha (Man), ensuring the continuum of life. Speaking about the archetype in cinema, Ghatak said. 'When some images develop as an inevitable consequence and again become inconsequential in the process of turning into symbols (as in the death of Nita), it is only then that the archetypal force is born.' After the deconsecration is complete, Nita ceases to be of any significance as an individual but the archetype is continually perpetuated. In the last sequence where Shankar for a moment mistakes the friend of Nita, is contained the archetypal process itself.

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* Cloud capped star