Licence to create freely

Ratna Raman 

POETIC licence’ is the freedom   enjoyed by poets, artists, playwrights, novelists and filmmakers for a subjective engagement with ideas, themes and people. Such creative engagement and representation is an important social aspect across cultures.

If we are to believe the poets, before women fought and obtained equal rights, all over the world, their incredible beauty inflamed men to wage wars. Troy was razed due to a relentless bloody war over Helen. Ravana was killed and Sri Lanka was laid waste over Sita. BR Chopra’s serial effectively highlights how the Mahabharata war may not have taken place, had Draupadi refrained from laughing at a fumbling Duryodhana on a  first  visit to Indraprastha, the  Pandava headquarters. 

Oddly, in the 21st century India,   death threats, fury and violence continue to be generated over an Awadhi  medieval romance by Sufi poet Malik  Mohammad Jayasi, inspired over 200 years after by Allauddin Khilji’s conquest of Chittorgarh in 1303. The Padmawat (1540) ‘ascribes’ (attributes) Khilji’s desire for Padmavati as the primary reason for the Chittorgarh invasion. Subsequentlly, Queen Padmavati undertook jauhar (mass self-immolation of women on the losing side in war) along with  her ladies in waiting, safeguarding Rajput honour. 

Padmini’s jauhar forms part of history lessons taught in school. It illustrates how women’s fidelity is an act of heroism that ‘ennobles’ (provides greater dignity) the entire community. Unsurprisingly, adults in positions of responsibility are now rushing to rescue Padmavati from onscreen ‘ignominy’ (disgrace). Unschooled by narratives that chronicle the loss of life and resources in the aftermath of battle, the Karni Sena marches on, seeking to avenge Padmavati’s  imagined humiliation.

 In earlier times, poets spoke of wars triggered off by beautiful women, and described armies of warriors gathering for the rescue. Ironically, now, heads of state in democratic India engage fervently to refurbish Padmavati’s izzat instead of leaving these decisions to the censor board. 

Bounties offered for Bhansali and Deepika’s head, threats of chopping off her nose, breaking  Ranvir Singh’s legs, burning and vandalising film halls are displays of criminal intent and can never be the appropriate response to poetic expression. Such intolerance and gender insensitivity towards fictional representation also highlights the ‘diversionary tactics’ (shifting attention from primary concerns) engaged in by the media and the state. Once, poetic licence generated stories of beautiful women who set off wars or perforce died for husband, king or country. Present-day leaders have rushed to defend a quasi-mythical queen, dead for over 800 years and  sanctioned temples in her honour. 

‘Looming spectres’ (fearful ghosts) of socio-economic and gender inequities continue to be ignored.  India’s beleaguered men and women farmers, protesting awhile at New Delhi in lakhs have received ‘short shrift’ (curt treatment). Our news channels should stop generating a ‘feeding frenzy’ (supplying  information about an event in a competitive manner) around hoary folk narrative and empower growers and consumers of food in real time, instead. 

The CBFC is equipped to engage with poetic licence. We need equitable news coverage from the media. When our governing elite empowers men and women with little access to health, education and monetary well- being,  ‘poetic justice’ (fitting retribution) in deed and in real time will  become possible.