A firecracker of a film
The sisters are named after flowers, but don’t let that fool you. These are duelling sticks of dynamite who steal each other’s stolen beedis and spark each other’s fuses. They are either on the warpath or waiting to be offended. Perpetually flammable, with tongues sharp as the maanja (kite string) used to cut the kites flying over a neighbour’s roof. The swearwords they spit out — about noseless witches and wives of frogs — are straight out of folklore.
Pataakha is an adaptation of a short story by Charan Singh Pathik. Coming from Vishal Bhardwaj, this feels like a minor film — about two minors, daughters of a miner — till we see what these firecrackers are dreaming about.
One wants to go to school so she can open one of her own, the other wants to stay out of school and start a dairy. They will battle for these ambitions.
These are women who first physically overpower their suitors, then choose to give in. They allow themselves to be courted against the backdrop of motorcycling daredevils and lassi stores. They are in charge.
Bhardwaj turns warring sisters into a metaphor for India and Pakistan, locked in an endless cycle of sniping. It is an unsubtle but effective analogy, like that in a street play.
The metaphor peaks with their hapless father stranded in no man’s land. Vijay Raaz plays this father of the nation with defeated dignity. It is a fragile, affecting performance surrounded by louder characters.
The effort to be fair has worn him down. Once in a while he smiles, as when delousing both daughters at once, with the dexterity of a tabla player.
The elder sister, Champa Kumari, frequently bites her lip. She’s defined by her younger sister — everyone calls her Badki, never using her name — and when stealing the latter’s Western wear, she makes sure to properly cover the sleeping Chhutki with a blanket. Radhika Madan shines in this role, unwavering in dialect and determination. The way she bites her dupatta, the way she boasts about her smartphone, the way she brandishes a clothes iron… She’s priceless.
Genda Kumari, the younger sister, is forever poised to strike. She even checks her sister’s temperature by smacking her on the head. Sanya Malhotra plays this grinning, scrappy character with fearless enthusiasm.
Bhardwaj’s songs don’t stand out, but works with the narrative. A glossy track (featuring the glossy Malaika Arora Khan) has been excised from this gloriously grimy film. Pataakha is a down-and-dirty quickie, at odds with polish.
In one scene, with the sisters mid-battle, there is a shot of their two daughters. Faces frozen in fear, sickened by this vulgar physicality. Those embarrassed and mortified girls may well be a stand-in for citizens watching diplomatic talks break down again.
India claims to loathe Pakistan, but this is the kind of vehemence we reserve for family. We may crow about conquering them in every World Cup game, but against England in 1992, we cheered Imran Khan’s boys in green. If you want to beat them, get in line. They’re ours.