Khamosh Pani: Simple, yet overwhelming

As the camera very candidly captures the poignancy, filmi sentiments take a backseat. What emerges is a panorama presented in an extremely fresh perspective with excellent cinematography.

A Muslim widow Ayesha (Kirron Kher) lives with her son in a Pakistani village. She regularly reads Quran and prays at dargah for the successful life of her only son, Salim (Aamir Ali Malik). However, in the lonely confines of her home, she is Veero, who has kept a Sukhmani Sahib in a trunk away from the reach of her son. But her devotion is neither Muslim, nor Sikh but simply an outpour of a loving heart.

With no refrain, it recalls the blood-hooded moments when a woman’s “izzat” was the first stake and her life the last priority.

Kirron as Ayesha and then as Veero is majestic in appeal. Away from rhetoric, away from drama, just rooted rightly in herself, she is a silent winner. Here she is a woman who is a strong individual. A teenager in 1947, Veero had refused to embrace death like her mother and sister as dictated by the male members of the family who feared their abduction and rape. She wanted to live. And she lives in the village with her faith changed.

Married to a Muslim, she becomes Ayesha. Her inner resilence outshines the political upheaval when Gen Zia-ul-Haq took over the charge in Pakistan. Together the boy and the mother function as a catapult, hitting the aim with a perfection, which only few movies can achieve. Kudos to Pakistan director Sabiha Samar.

When Islamic forces won, love became the first casualty. Saleem ‘s transformation from a flute-playing boy who loves a neighborhood girl Zubeida, to a fundamentalist who forces dupatta on girls’ head and hates music, is nothing short of a catastrophe.’’ At least I have found a way. I am now somebody. Now people listen to me’’, tells the unemployed village boy to his mother: this perhaps sums up the politics behind the religion. Very conveniently, Saleem cuts himself off from all positive influences. But his mutation is nothing as compared to his mother’s.

Ayesha’s meeting with her Sikh brother who comes from India as a pilgrim in 2002 is the turning point. She is brutal and terse “Why have you come here? Now what do the old man (father) wants? she asks. The brother is honest. He has come not to enquire about her well-being but to fulfill the last wish of her repenting father. “Khamosh Pani” does not enthrall you. It leaves you guessing why the family bonding did not move her.

A highly simple screenplay penned in Punjabi by Paromita Vohra might make you underestimate its high points. The film should be viewed in a perspective of not overpowering emotions but conscious judgement. Attachment takes a backseat here. Self is the asserting force.

This 80-minute panorama may not be financially viable but it is a sure victor on many counts. Meant for a category of viewers, the film is highly individualistic in appeal. It is a brilliant metaphor. It triggers within you a dilemma which has no solution. — TNS