Sanjay Bhansali’s dazzling soap opera
While the lmmaker’s eight-part Net ix series is a stunning spectacle of opulent charm, its frequent soap opera-ness insulates the sense of grandeur
Heeramandi thrives on opulent otherworldliness from beginning to end. It’s as though Sanjay Leela Bhansali, directing his rst streaming series, is all the more insistent we miss the big screen. In Lahore, a courtesan, Mallikajaan, crestfallen and cornered by fate, weeps before a replace, tossing pieces of precious jewellery into the sickly ames. The entire mansion is wreathed in ghostly shadows. When a voice calls out and a curtain is parted, we catch sight of the haveli across, its indoors abuzz and aglow with revelry and laughter. It is a bewitching moment in the series, conveying more through its interplay of light and dark than any plot turn or poetic phrase.
There is a lot of poetry in Heermandi. As always — and certainly encouraged by the setting and time period, pre-Independence India — Bhansali telegraphs his adulation for the Su and Urdu greats. The song that announces the arrival of spring, ‘Sakal Ban,’ ows from an Amir Khusrow poem, and there are mentions of Ghalib, Mir, Zafar and Niyazi. One of the prin
Heermandi: The Diamond Bazaar (Hindi)
Director: Sanjay Leela Bhansali
Cast: Manisha Koirala, Aditi Rao Hydari, Sonakshi Sinha, Sharmin Segal, Taaha Shah, Fardeen Khan
Episodes: 8
Run-time: 45-65 minutes
Storyline: The intrigues and power struggles of courtesans in revolutionary-era India cipal characters, Alamzeb (Sharmin Sehgal), is an aspiring poetess, much like Rekha in Umrao Jaan (1981). There are clusters of conversation virtually indistinguishable from verse. “I will serve you couplets for breakfast and poems for lunch,” Alamzeb forewarns her betrothed. She might as well be addressing the viewer.
Alamzeb is the daughter of Mallikajaan (Manisha Koirala), madam of Shahi Mahal, an elite brothel in the pleasure district of Lahore, Heera Mandi. Mallikajaan has another daughter, Bibbo (Aditi Rao Hydari), an acclaimed songstress cum revolutionary spy. It’s the 1940s, with resistance against the Raj gaining strength. The unctuous nawabs serve their foreign overlords for titles and protection. But it’s the courtesans who really call the tunes, shielding their patron’s secrets and, on occasion, leading them to ruin.
A set of dramatic ashbacks sets the series in motion. Mallikajaan, it transpires, has secrets of her own — a ghastly crime in her past, buried and hushed with the aid of the debauched nawab Zulkar (Shekhar Suman). Once unearthed, it touches o a power struggle between her and Fareedan (Sonakshi Sinha), a rival courtesan who embeds herself in Heera Mandi and sets about ruing old and new feathers.
Languid pace
The plot turns on Fareedan’s elaborate schemes for revenge, an awkwardly burgeoning romance — between Alamzeb and a rebellious young nawab, Tajdar (Taaha Shah) — and the agitation of the revolutionaries. The evil police superintendent, Cartwright ( Jason Shah), hovers around, digging for skeletons. Bhansali and his writers take time bringing the multiple strands together. Despite the immaculate sights and sounds on oer, it becomes a long wait. It doesn’t help that the thrilling political backdrop of the era is painted in broad strokes (there is no mention of the Muslim League and the demand for a separate Pakistan state).
Heera Mandi, a real neighbourhood in Lahore, was established in Mughal times, with its courtesans amassing considerable wealth and in uence down the ages. There is a fascinating history of tawaifs contributing to the freedom struggle (Bibbo’s character, for instance, appears modelled on Azizun Bai, a Kanpur courtesan who fought against the British during the 1857 revolt).
Yet, in calling our attention to these unsung heroes, Bhansali and his writers tend to go emotionally overboard, drawing wellmeaning yet awkward parallels between the characters and India under British rule. Mallikajaan is taunted by Zulkar for practising ‘divide and rule’. We are like birds in a gilded cage, Bibbo says, much like India — a golden bird in an imperial cage.
Fardeen Khan exudes kohl-eyed menace as the nawab Wali Mohammed, while Koirala surrenders body and soul to Mallikajaan, teasing scraps of humanity from an overblown part. Nivedita Bhargava and Jayati Bhatia are delightful as a pair of gabby attendants, Satto and Phatto. Richa Chadha, working her high and hearty laughter, gets too short-lived a role.
The series could have stuck with seasoned performers like Chadha and Sanjeeda Sheikh; instead, it’s the central lovers, atly played by Segal and Shah, who occupy a bulk of the runtime. For its closing episodes, Heermandi enters a realm of gothic abstraction that is Bhansali’s mark. In the ery nal scene, the women of Heera Mandi descend upon the streets, a sea of torch-bearing protesters storming a fort.
Heeramandi is currently streaming on Net ix