Sometimes, a movie comes along that has the power to transcend its mere existence as moving images on the screen and get etched in our heart forever. The story finds a way to reach deep into the recesses of our souls, becoming more than a momentary source of rejuvenation.
“Meghe Dhaka Tara” which translates to “The Cloud-Capped Star”, the magnum opus of the maverick film maker, Ritwik Ghatak was precisely that film to me. The intense resonance of the film with the profound sorrows of destitute lives shook me to my core, made me question my pre-defined perceptions about certain aspects of life, leaving an indelible mark upon my consciousness. This art film was released as the first chapter to the Partition Trilogy by Ghatak. The story revolves around Neeta, a self-sacrificing and educated Bengali woman belonging to an impoverished refugee family from East Pakistan (present day Bangladesh), now finding shelter in a dilapidated refugee camp on the outskirts of the majestic Kolkata. Her family consists of her erudite old father, an eccentric teacher whose heart beats for poetry, an epitome of “Bhadra Lok” in the Bengali society, her perpetually discontented and nagging mother, her blithe music devoted elder brother Shankar, her beautiful but frivolous younger sister Geeta and her sports loving younger brother Montu.
Being the second child of the family, Neeta has to shoulder all the financial responsibilities of her family along with her father as her Music lover elder brother is reluctant to do so. According to him, taking up a job is “beneath an artist’s dignity”. He feels bad at times for exploiting his younger sister but his carefree nature and immense devotion to music overpowers his guilt. “Ignore what people say. Your motto should be: Do what you think is best.” sums up his attitude towards life. But, unlike his other siblings, he loves Neeta dearly and dreams to eradicate all her sufferings once he achieves fame and money.
Neeta, a docile college going girl tries her best to cater to the standard of the ideal daughter and be a doting sister. No matter how much turmoil she is going through, she masks all her pains by wearing a serene smile on her face all the time. An archetype of unwavering strength and resilience in dark times, she is an embodiment of “Goddess Jagadhatri”, the ideal giver.
Amidst all the bustling daily affairs, love arrives in her life unanticipated, bringing in a wave of charm and ecstasy to her mundane existence.
“I didn’t appreciate your worth,
I thought you were just like others
but now I see you in the clouds…
…perhaps a cloud-capped star,
veiled by circumstances…
…your aura dimmed”
Neeta’s eyes sparkle as she reads the letter of her lover, Sanat. Finally, she has found a blissful reason to live. Sanat, an old student of Neeta’s father, is an accomplished scholar conducting doctoral research. Unable to secure a scholarship, Neeta supports him financially with her tuition fees, accompanying him in his dark times. However, not to forget, when one dedicates oneself entirely to the happiness of unappreciative people, their own blissful days tend to be transient.
Neeta’s world turns upside down when Sanat marries her sister, Geeta, thereby leaving her feeling betrayed from both ends. Neeta had hoped that Sanat would wait for her, understanding the challenging circumstances she was facing. She couldn’t think of leaving her sick father, who was unable to work after an accident, and abandoning her family in the midst of uncertainties. She informed Sanat that it was not the right time for their union and asked him to wait as she prioritized her family’s well-being over her own desires. Little did she know that her selflessness would lead to heartbreak and betrayal from her dear ones.
One of the most poignant scenes of the movie is when Neeta sang a haunting Rabindra sangeet “Je Rate Mor Duarguli Bhanglo Jhore” resonating the ravaging emotions, the tumultuous storm brewing inside her, crushing her from within.
“Everything went black
The lamp went out
For whom did I
Reach out on high?
I didn’t know you’d come in
In darkness I lay dreaming
How could I know the storm was?
The pennant of your triumph?
Only in the morning did I see
There you were, standing
There is where emptiness
Had filled my room”
“Rushing out in the heat all at once won’t help, everyone doesn’t have the patience to wait, that is something you ought to know.” Replied Geeta callously when questioned about her decision to marry Sanat. Surprisingly, Geeta was aware of Sanat and Neeta’s relationship and even acted as a messenger between the two. Even then her conscience did not deter her from flirting with Sanat and manipulating him to marry her. Yet the most despicable character of all was Neeta’s mother. Insecure about Neeta and Sanat’s relationship and afraid of losing Neeta (the hen that lays golden eggs), her only source of income, she did not hesitate to indulge Geeta in the game of seduction. However, the portrayal of flawed characters adds realism to the movie, reminding us that even mothers, often idealized, are human beings influenced by societal and economic conditions. Our culture and traditions have always celebrated motherhood as flawless and absolute, leveraging mothers to the status of goddesses. We tend to forget that mothers are also humans of flesh and blood and just like any other relations; motherhood is also influenced by the prevailing socio-economic conditions and political scenario of the society. Circumstances obliged Neeta’s mother to strike a balance and be too calculative when the survival of the entire family seemed obscure in front of her. Hence, she keeps on clinging to Neeta like a parasite embodying the mythological character of “Goddess Chandi”. I appreciate how Ghatak humanizes these characters while incorporating mythological references, adding complexity and depth to the diverse personalities.
The heartbreak, onerous labor and the ungratefulness of her unappreciative family drains her vitality, sequestering Neeta from the rest and confining her to a room. Neeta acknowledges her “sin” for being too forbearing and never being assertive before. Gradually she develops Tuberculosis but keeps it to herself. When her mother suspects something wrong, Neeta firmly replies, “Time was, mother, but you did not hear, there’s such a void between us now.” It was only when her elder brother, Shankar returns from Mumbai, successful and accomplished, the family discovers Neeta’s ailment.
The most enigmatic character of the entire film was Neeta’s father an eccentric yet virtuous man, who seeks solace in poetry, unyielding in the face of poverty’s dire grip. Neeta is his pride, his reason for happiness. He cannot tolerate the injustices happening to her but is unable to do anything owing to his physical disability and inability to earn further. One of his dialogues resonated deeply with me, challenging my perception of women’s empowerment in underprivileged families:
“In the past they married daughters off
to the dying. They were barbarians
Now we are educated, civilized
We educate our girl, wring her dry
and destroy her future
That’s the difference”
These words highlight the shift from archaic practices to a supposedly enlightened society. The film reveals the harsh reality that even in the midst of education and progress, women in underprivileged families still fall prey to oppressive circumstances and shattered dreams.
I was in awe with this unconventional character until he undergoes transformation that bewilders me. On a rainy stormy night, he says something to Neeta that pierced my heart:
“I’ve packed your things
you go away
they dream of two storeys
you’ve been successful
you’ve put them on their feet, dear
what would they be without you?
They pity you today
You weren’t up to carrying the burden,
but you had to
You’re the burden yourself now
There’s poison in your breath
This room is for the newborn
Go away, dear”
As these words echo through the room, the background music reverberates, intensifying the emotional impact. The scene symbolizes Neeta’s departure from her father’s home, resembling a daughter leaving her father’s abode to become a bride in her in-laws’ house. I interpret it as a transition into a different world, a departure from life itself.
“Come to me, my daughter Uma
Let me garland you with flowers
You are the soul of my sad self,
mother deliverer
Let me bid you farewell now,
my daughter
You leave my home desolate,
going to your husband’s house
How can I endure your departure,
my daughter??
The end of the movie is the most daunting scene of all. It first forwards to a few months where Neeta has been admitted into a sanatorium and is seen sitting amidst hills and lush greenery, a place she has always desired to go. Her elder brother, the only one to care for her in this time of crisis, visits her and tries to cheer her up by recounting the happy incidents of the family. However, Neeta’s heart breaks as she realizes that her family is experiencing joyous days in her absence. Overwhelmed by despair, she cries out:
“I wanted to live!
Tell me just once that I’ll live
I want to go home, Brother.
I want to live!”
This line continues to haunt me, even a week after watching the film. It encapsulates the profound desire for life, the longing for love, and the heartbreaking realization that one’s existence is slipping away.
The film ends with Shankar remembering Neeta after her demise and shedding tears in remorse, lamenting no one else in this bustling world reminisces her anymore.