IC
814:
The
Kandahar
Hijack
begins
by
asking
why
the
hijack
lasted
seven
days
and
ends
in
wondering
if
the
good
guys
fought
the
bad
ones
hard
enough,
observes
Sukanya
Verma.
On
a
late
afternoon
of
December
24,
1999
an
Indian
Airlines
flight
bound
to
Delhi
took
off
from
Kathmandu
airport
blissfully
unaware
of
the
hell,
five
armed,
masked
hijackers
are
about
to
unleash
on
the
plane’s
unsuspecting
pilots
and
passengers.
One
of
the
merriest
times
of
the
year
turned
into
a
living
nightmare
for
the
hostages
on
board
IC-814
as
well
as
the
Indian
government
officials,
who
were
engaged
in
the
rescue
as
the
Airbus
300
made
multiple
landings
at
Amritsar,
Lahore,
Dubai
and,
finally,
Kandahar.
What
started
off
like
another
day
of
travel
would
go
down
as
a
dark
week
in
India’s
aviation
history.
Between
the
plight
of
the
176
passengers
and
crew,
hijackers’
demand
for
millions
of
dollars
and
release
of
painstakingly
captured
dangerous
terrorists,
the
public’s
divided
opinion
on
yielding
to
their
wishes,
nexus
between
Kashmir
militancy,
ISI,
Taliban
and
Osama
bin
Laden,
bureaucratic
inconveniences,
blame
game
within
departments,
complex
geopolitics
of
India’s
friends
and
foes,
standoffs
and
stalemates,
media’s
tireless
coverage
of
the
drama,
of
which
Rediff.com
was
at
the
forefront,
and
trauma
of
angry,
anxious
families
seeking
reassurance
from
a
government
struggling
to
cut
to
the
chase,
emotions
ran
high.
Be
it
the
staggering
lapse
of
security
in
Kathmandu,
the
government’s
lax
approach
in
Amritsar
(where
it’s
widely
believed
the
situation
could
have
been
salvaged)
or
caving
into
pressure
by
letting
go
three
terrorists
(Masood
Azhar,
Omar
Saaed
Shaikh
—
on
whose
life
Hansal
Mehta’s
Omerta
was
made
—
and
Mushtaq
Ahmed
Zargar)
in
exchange
for
the
innocent
passengers,
these
matters
became
subject
of
hot
debates
in
the
media.
One
can
gain
an
accurate
understanding
of
how
strongly
and
diversely
the
nation
felt
about
it
in
the
pre-social
media
era
across
the
unfiltered
message
boards
published
on
Rediff
back
then.
For
a
more
docudramatic
and
visual
chronicling
of
the
events,
check
out
Anubhav
Sinha’s
six-part
limited
series,
IC
814:
The
Kandahar
Hijack
on
Netflix.
(Rohit
Shetty’s
directorial
debut
Zameen
delivers
a
loosely
inspired,
mainstream
account
of
the
hijack.)
Post
his
masala
film-making
renunciation,
Sinha
has
tapped
into
his
righteous
rage
to
crusade
for
social
justice
across
films
like
Mulk,
Article
15,
Thappad,
Anek
and
Bheed.
While
the
realism
and
complexity
fuelling
IC
814:
The
Kandahar
Hijack
is
right
up
his
alley,
Sinha’s
portrayal
isn’t
interested
in
being
an
opinion
piece.
Treating
it
like
a
slice
of
history,
he
puts
everyone’s
perspective
across
without
colouring
it
in
the
bias
of
judgement.
Where
archived
footage
and
Ninad
Kamat’s
explanatory
voiceover
gives
the
uninitiated
a
context
to
the
distress,
dilemma
and
delay
at
play,
the
unintended
incompetency
of
people
in
power
looks
at
the
intricacies
of
human
ebb
and
flow.
Over
the
course
of
six
hectic
episodes,
Sinha
achieves
a
gripping
summary
of
the
incident
if
not
a
verdict
on
whether
the
rescue
can
be
hailed
as
a
success
or
not.
Apart
from
all
the
extensive
reportage
and
real-life
figures
to
research
from,
Sinha
and
his
co-writer
Trishant
Srivastava
alongside
consultant
Adrian
Levy
take
inspiration
from
the
pens
of
the
pilot
and
purser
on
board
—
Flight
into
Fear
—
A
Captain’s
Story
by
Devi
Sharan
with
Srinjoy
Chowdhury
and
Anil
Sharma’s
book
IA’s
Terror
Trail.
There’s
a
horde
of
people
on
the
hierarchical
ladder
to
keep
track
of
but
Sinha
uses
the
chaos
to
infuse
the
proceedings
with
a
frantic
energy.
As
is
the
norm
these
days,
a
tendency
to
single
out
and
berate
the
ruling
party
of
a
previous
regime
—
in
this
case,
the
Atal
Bihari
Vajpayee
led
government
—
evades
Sinha’s
objective
purview.
What
we
see
are
a
bunch
of
senior,
sensible
professionals
from
the
Intelligence
Bureau,
Research
and
Analysis
Wing,
crisis
management
group,
ministries
of
external
affairs
and
defence
not
deliberately
jeopardising
the
lives
of
hundreds
yet
sorely
lacking
in
Plan
B.
An
air
of
cynicism
envelops
the
room
but
there’s
a
willingness
to
still
try
and
hope
for
the
best.
Some
of
the
best
moments
happen
when
the
series
pauses
to
give
a
glimpse
of
the
person
under
their
burdened
being.
Like
the
read
between-the-lines
coffee-chai
philosophy
exchanged
by
Arvind
Swamy
(‘Coffee
is
like
religion.
There’s
no
place
for
misinterpretation’)
and
Manoj
Pahwa
(‘Chai
is
like
blind
faith.
Achi
ho
buri
ho,
chai
hai)
or
Naseeruddin
Shah
rolling
his
eyes
at
Pankaj
Kapur’s
idealism
as
‘Jawani
ke
sabak
ko
zindagi
ke
thapede
se
zyada
zor
de
te
hain.’
Sinha
paints
these
diplomats
as
humans
not
heroes.
He
doesn’t
deem
them
villains
either,
even
when
it’s
obvious
that
a
common
man’s
life
comes
to
nothing
when
political
decisions
are
at
stake.
In
contemplating
such
an
extreme
possibility,
they
are
no
better
than
the
terrorists
threatening
to
bump
off
passengers
or
blow
up
the
plane.
The
director
doesn’t
dwell
deep
into
the
hijackers
on
board,
but,
of
the
volatile
five,
Burger
(Diljohn
Singh
evokes
a
rakish
mix
of
Manav
Kaul
and
Jatin
Goswami)
demonstrates
most
personality.
It’s
the
pilots,
pursuers
and
airhostesses
then
that
must
hold
fort
as
negotiations
get
underway
and
terrified
passengers
do
not
entirely
lose
their
mind.
Captain
Devi
Sharan’s
admirable
composure
finds
a
suitable
embodiment
in
Vijay
Varma’s
understated
serenity.
Laying
the
focus
on
the
impact
of
his
presence
of
mind
rather
than
himself
personally,
Varma
demonstrates
what
distinguishes
‘method’
from
‘me.’
IC
814:
The
Kandahar
Hijack
curiously
examines
the
many
faces
of
crisis.
For
the
people
aboard
the
ill-fated
plane,
from
uncertainty
of
life
to
shortage
of
vegetarian
food
to
clogged
washrooms,
there’s
a
plethora
of
issues.
For
the
authorities
responsible
for
their
release,
seeking
cooperation
from
hostile
neighbours
like
Pakistan
and
Afghanistan
plagued
by
their
own
rickety
politics
and
appeasing
super
powers
harbouring
grudges
over
nuclear
testing,
the
challenges
are
endless.
Along
with
the
‘should
have,’
‘could
have,’
Sinha’s
commentary
throws
in
a
fair
share
of
‘did
this,’
‘did
that’
‘history
will
always
remember…’
brand
of
regrets
but,
ultimately,
leaves
it
on
the
intelligence
and
ideology
of
the
viewer
to
determine
whether
it
was,
as
an
official
puts
it
‘a
fair
fight’
or
not.
Sinha’s
long-form
isn’t
imprinted
in
craftsmanship
as
it
is
in
commentary.
Keenly
aware
this
is
a
situational
not
character
driven
premise,
he
lets
his
roster
of
persuasive
actors,
their
heft
and
credibility
do
its
magic
against/across
their
combined
synergy
and
luminous
intelligence.
Manoj
Pahwa’s
sardonic
negotiator,
ever
the
scene
stealer
in
Sinha’s
recent
resume,
has
the
tone
of
his
sarkari
entitlement
down
pat.
Arvind
Swamy’s
calm
demeanour
plays
off
perfectly
against
the
somewhat
vexed
demeanour
of
Pahwa
and
Kumud
Mishra’s
cunning.
Naseeruddin
Shah
and
Pankaj
Kapoor’s
seasoned,
stately
exterior
and
innate
arrogance
as
well
as
acumen
is
tailormade
for
men
calling
the
shots
inside
closed
door
conferences.
There
are
tons
of
other
wonderful
actors
in
roles
that
are
much
too
tiny
to
give
them
prominence
but
neither
skip
a
beat.
Save
for
the
flimflam
portrayal
of
media
whose
reportage
is
the
backbone
of
IC
814:
The
Kandahar
Hijack.
It’s
disappointing
to
see
their
role
relegated
to
a
cosmetic
duo
of
squabbling
ladies
caught
in
a
tussle
of
print
and
television.
If
Dia
Mirza’s
posturing
in
handloom
saris,
hipster
glasses,
nose-ring
and
1940s
hair
undermines
the
sharpness
and
seriousness
of
a
journalist
chasing
a
story,
Amrita
Puri’s
priggish
ajrakh-print-silver
earrings
stereotype
fares
no
better.
Intentional
or
not,
these
two
send
out
sneaky
couple
vibes
and
that’s
just
about
the
only
interesting
thing
about
their
presence.
IC
814:
The
Kandahar
Hijack‘s
armour
isn’t
without
its
share
of
chinks.
A
lot
of
the
ongoing
sentiment
advances
with
a
predetermined
knowledge
like
most
recreations
of
occurrences
in
the
past.
There’s
the
mandatory
Quran
quoting
to
tell
the
principled
Muslim
from
the
problematic.
Often
there
are
times
when
Sinha
appears
to
be
chasing
dead
ends
or
confusing
us
by
throwing
in
ambiguities
—
like
the
mysterious
ISI
officer
on
the
plane,
the
R&AW
officer
on
board
omitted
from
the
official
passenger
list
or
the
surreptitious
interrogation
of
Masood
Azhar
in
the
cell
leading
up
to
no
breakthrough
except
projecting
an
influential
brain
washer
as
a
petulant
brat
crying
foul,
‘Mere
baap
ne
bhi
kabhi
mujhe
thappad
nahi
maara.’
The
passengers
get
the
short
end
of
the
stick
on
screen
as
well.
Treated
like
a
nondescript
crowd
whose
cursory
stories
—
a
father’s
distant
outlook
to
his
son’s
Down’s
syndrome,
a
sick
elderly
gasping
for
breath
or
the
most
tragic
end
to
a
pair
of
newlyweds,
Rupin
and
Rachana
Katyal,
never
becomes
a
part
of
the
bigger
picture.
Bookended
in
questions,
IC
814:
The
Kandahar
Hijack
begins
by
asking
why
the
hijack
lasted
seven
days
and
ends
in
wondering
if
the
good
guys
fought
the
bad
ones
hard
enough.
The
repercussions
of
their
actions
and
acts
of
terror
that
it
made
possible
provide
an
answer
that’s
disturbing
to
accept,
damned
if
you
do,
damned
if
you
don’t.
IC
814:
The
Kandahar
Hijack
streams
on
Netflix
IC
814:
The
Kandahar
Hijack
Review
Rediff
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