They
try
to
hide
behind
the
smokescreen
that
these
are
works
of
fiction
inspired
by
real
events.
So,
you
can
pick
and
choose
from
facts
and
fictionalise
to
push
the
right
triggers
with
your
audience
or
appease
the
powers
that
be,
observes
Shekhar
Gupta.
Rest
assured,
this
isn’t
another
piece
of
writing
on
Anubhav
Sinha’s
Netflix
series,
IC-814:
The
Kandahar
Hijack.
Rather,
it
serves
to
spark
this
larger
argument
on
the
insurmountable
and
often
physically
dangerous
challenge
of
creating
any
work
of
art,
literature,
movie,
or
television
series
drawing
from
any
chapter
or
personalities
of
our
contemporary
history.
The
IC-814
controversy
erupted
in
the
same
week
that
the
release
of
Kangana
Ranaut’s
Emergency
has
been
withheld.
Yet
another
contemporary
history-themed
movie,
Farhan
Akhtar’s
120
Bahadur,
has
begun
its
pre-release
promotions.
This
film
portrays
the
heroic
last
battle
of
the
storied
Charlie
company
of
the
Kumaon
regiment
(C
Company,
13
Kumaon)
in
Ladakh’s
Rezang
La
in
1962.
This
shows
film-makers
see
the
juice
in
historical
realities.
However,
the
challenge
of
staying
true
to
the
complete
truth
remains
formidable.
Why,
for
example,
has
Kangana
Ranaut’s
film
got
into
trouble?
Usually,
you
would’ve
expected
it
would
pass
through
the
system
like
a
breeze,
joining
the
already
large
repertoire
of
garden-variety
Gandhi-family
bashing
films
thriving
in
the
Modi
era.
Given
that
Ms
Ranaut
is
now
a
member
of
Parliament
from
the
Bharatiya
Janata
Party,
you
would
expect
to
see
Mrs
Gandhi
in
her
most
self-destructive
phase,
particularly
during
the
period
when
she
was
dismantling
the
Constitution.
The
BJP
has
just
suffered
electorally
because
an
impression
grew
that
it
wanted
a
large
Lok
Sabha
majority
to
do
precisely
this.
The
BJP’s
main
weapon
of
counterattack,
the
Brahmastra,
has
been
Indira
Gandhi’s
subversion
of
what
Narendra
Modi
has
exalted
as
a
sacrament.
One
of
Hindi
cinema’s
finest
actors
today
would
now
be
playing
Indira
Gandhi
in
her
authoritarian
avatar.
Wonderful
idea,
no?
Nobody
would’ve
expected
this
movie
to
get
anything
but
tender
love
and
care,
an
avalanche
of
tweets,
instant
reviews
in
praise,
and
support
and
selfies
with
Kangana
from
those
in
the
establishment
or
vying
for
its
attention.
So
where
did
it
all
go
so
wrong?
Whether
the
film
is
good
or
bad,
I
can’t
say,
as
I
have
only
seen
the
trailer.
It
promises
a
loud,
juvenile,
simplistic
fare,
with
characters,
including
Kangana
as
Indira,
looking
like
overly
powdered
AI
versions
of
the
original.
I
also
don’t
know
yet
if
the
film
identifies
him
as
Jarnail
Singh
Bhindranwale,
but
an
actor
seemingly
playing
him
is
first
seen
emerging
from
jail
and
later
speaking
to
an
audience
of
Sikhs,
rhetorically
sending
a
message
in
Punjabi
to
the
Congress:
‘Your
party
wants
votes,
and
we
want
Khalistan’.
This
has
triggered
an
almighty
Sikh
outrage,
with
the
venerable
Shiromani
Gurdwara
Parbandhak
Committee
(SGPC)
stepping
in.
The
film
is
in
trouble
not
because
it
paints
Indira
Gandhi
as
evil
and
puts
in
her
mouth
words
she
never
spoke.
Ranaut’s
Mrs
Gandhi
is
seen
in
the
trailer
saying,
‘Indira
is
India,
India
is
Indira’.
Mrs
Gandhi
never
said
this.
It
was
actually
Dev
Kanta
Barooah,
then
Congress
president,
who
said
this
at
the
All
India
Congress
Committee
session
in
Guwahati
in
the
winter
of
1976.
This
was
peak
Emergency
and
in
that
season
of
competitive
sycophancy,
Borooah
spoke
the
line
that
damned
his
legacy.
In
the
early
1980s,
I
would
sometimes
drop
by
at
his
home
in
Nowgong,
where
he
spent
his
years
in
political
retirement
and
wilderness.
He
would
often
fret
over
that
one
“indiscretion.”
Did
Mrs
Gandhi
ever
say
that
herself?
Not
that
I
know
from
any
readings.
Of
course,
now
I
have
seen
Ms
Ranaut
say
that
in
the
Emergency
trailer.
This
is
fake
news.
The
Congress
people,
however,
aren’t
the
ones
protesting.
The
Bhindranwale
reference
becomes
necessary
because
the
pretended
biopic
must
also
make
the
point
that
she
invited
the
assassination
upon
herself
by
playing
fast
and
loose
with
Sikh
separatism.
There’s
enough
evidence
in
contemporary
history
that
in
the
very
early
stages,
the
Congress,
especially
Giani
Zail
Singh,
patronised
Bhindranwale
in
the
hope
that
he
could
embarrass
the
Shiromani
Akali
Dal
in
SGPC
elections.
That
adventurism
failed,
but
Bhindranwale
grew
into
a
force.
The
movie’s
message
is:
Indira
Gandhi
was
so
power
hungry,
she
was
willing
to
trade
votes
for
Khalistan
with
Bhindranwale.
As
a
reporter
who
met
him
dozens
of
times
between
the
summer
of
1983
and
the
hour
when
the
first
army
units
moved
in
for
Operation
Blue
Star,
I
never
heard
Bhindranwale
demand
Khalistan.
Nor
did
anybody
I
know.
There
are
hundreds
of
hours
of
tapes
of
his
speeches
available.
He
never
said
Khalistan,
whatever
the
subtext
of
his
message,
innuendo,
or
actions.
All
of
us
reporters
asked
him
the
‘K
question’
at
some
point.
His
pre-rehearsed
answer
was:
I
never
asked
for
Khalistan,
nor
am
I
asking.
But
if
‘bibi‘
(for
Indira
Gandhi)
or
‘Dilli
Durbar‘
gives
it
to
me,
I
won’t
say
no.
Short
lesson:
You
can
still
put
words
in
Indira
Gandhi’s
mouth
and
get
away
with
it,
but
you
might
also
end
up
messing
with
Bhindranwale
40
years
after
his
death.
One
reason
all
of
these
films
and
teleserials
get
into
trouble
is
that
they
try
to
hide
behind
the
smokescreen
that
these
are
works
of
fiction
inspired
by
real
events.
So,
you
can
pick
and
choose
from
facts
and
fictionalise
to
push
the
right
triggers
with
your
audience
or
appease
the
powers
that
be.
Convenient
facts
plus
loaded
fiction
equals
odious
propaganda.
Check
out
the
two-season
Rocket
Boys
on
SonyLiv.
It
picked
real,
heroic,
lives:
Homi
Bhabha,
Vikram
Sarabhai
and
grew
fictional
by
the
episode.
The
great
Dalit
physicist
Meghnad
Saha
was
depicted
as
a
Muslim,
deeply
jealous
of
Bhabha,
with
the
CIA
and
other
conspiracy
theories
coming
into
play.
The
nonsensical
defence
for
this
doctoring
was
creative
liberty.
The
fact
is
that
we
are
still
too
thin
skinned
to
accept
anything
but
deification
of
our
leaders,
biopics,
or
biographies.
We
are
growing
pricklier
by
the
day,
and
anything
that
India
did
wrong
cannot
pass.
Unless,
of
course,
it
can
be
blamed
on
the
Nehru-Gandhis.
An
honest,
truthful
biopic
on
Ambedkar,
Shivaji,
M
Karunanidhi,
Balasaheb
Thackeray,
Rani
of
Jhansi,
Kanshi
Ram,
Bhindranwale,
just
about
anybody
is
impossible.
This
runs
across
the
subcontinent
and
is
the
reason
why
some
of
our
most
important
public
figures
have
had
defining
biographies
written
by
foreigners.
The
biographies
on
Jinnah
and
Bhutto
by
University
of
California
Professor
Stanley
Wolpert,
for
example.
Even
the
film
Gandhi
was
made
by
a
foreigner.
When
Richard
Attenborough
once
told
Nehru
that
he
intended
to
make
a
Gandhi
biopic,
the
advice
he
got
was
—
don’t
deify
him
and
show
him
as
he
was,
warts
and
all.
Will
this
pass
today?
Forget
politics.
Our
sporting
biographies
and
biopics
are
ghost-written,
co-produced
by
the
stars
themselves.
Movies
on
our
military
history,
famous
battles,
from
Border
to
Uri
and
multiple
nonsensical
ones
on
Kargil,
wallow
in
the
same
malaise.
Not
for
us
Indians
a
Clint
Eastwood
who
would
do
a
Flags
of
our
Fathers
and
then
a
sequel
to
look
at
the
heroism
from
the
Japanese
side
with
Letters
from
Iwo
Jima.
In
what
passes
for
an
Indian
war
film,
the
Pakistanis
are
idiots,
cowardly,
comical
and
very
Islamic,
flowing
beards
and
all.
Remember
Border?
Let’s
see
how
Farhan
Akhtar
portrays
the
Chinese.
We
are
so
sensitive
that
we
even
took
umbrage
at
that
one
reference
from
the
Bhagvad
Gita
in
a
bedroom
conversation
in
Oppenheimer.
That
a
film-maker
must
deal
with
this
awful
degree
of
difficulty
in
producing
anything
honest
is
understandable.
The
ploy
of
calling
it
fiction,
but
picking
enough
suitable
facts
to
make
your
story
look
credible
is
creative
and
intellectual
dishonesty.
It
distorts
history,
maligns
some,
and
glorifies
others
unfairly.
And,
of
course,
it
can
sometimes
get
your
movie
blocked
—
so
what
if
you
have
the
entire
establishment
behind
you?
By
special
arrangement
with
The
Print
Feature
Presentation:
Aslam
Hunani/Rediff.com