Mouth Wide Shut

BRB’s party wants to ‘ban’ Hindi films. Immediately after I heard it on Twitter, I watched Barfi online. Beautiful film—and fantastic performance by Ranvir Kapur and Priyanka Chopra. Now, if the ‘party’ has its say, that wouldn’t be possible for two reasons: it doesn’t like criticism on twitter, so the news wouldn’t likely be there because it shows them in a negative light, and secondly, if they don't like Hindi films in cinemas, they don't want them in homes either.

Is the idea of Hindi-film censorship smart, technically? China and Iran spend billions of dollars a year to create porous internet firewalls that barely do what they’re supposed to do. And of course—surely you must be joking Mr. Bhattrai – we like our Hindi films more than anything else. That’s meant only as a compliment to the Indian entertainment industry and not as self-criticism, as some might assume. We have some serious love of Hindi movies—the amount of hate I got for publicly stating my opinion of the film Three Idiots, I wouldn’t have gotten for expressing my uncensored opinions about the party. And that explains precisely why the party is afraid of them—they are a force much powerful, influential and uniting than it can ever hope to be.

The PM’s disdain for online criticism and the party’s disdain for Hindi films are facets of the same mindset. It’s reasonable—the party doesn’t like what it doesn’t like, so it believes the best way to get rid of it would be to… well—get rid of it. While that policy -- if you don't like them, they don't stay around- -  works quite well with things—ahem—physical, the Internet or the electronic media is not something that can be beaten up, tied in a boraa, and thrown into a dirty river, hoping no one notices.

Things BRB should know by now but apparently doesn’t—no one is indispensable. The easiest way to get dispensed is to tell people to shut up and then dictate what listen to, and look at. The party is apparently not comfortable with Hindi films. Considering that Hindi films have become part of our cultural identity (compare their box-office gains against Nepali films all over Nepal), the party is unlikely to find a lot of supporters. It also shows how out of touch the party is with its base—the probable assumption that Hindi films are for the sukela-mukela and not its vote-bank is not only faulty but dead-on wrong. Nepal is more drenched by the Hindi entertainment industry than many Indian states themselves—I got many blank stares from teenagers in South Indian cities this summer when I tried striking up conversations about Salman Khan and Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai. It’d be quite surprising if city-dwelling teenagers hadn’t watched their films in Nepal.

The point I’m trying to make is, the party perceives a fracture between communities—one that watches Hindi movies and one that is more Nepali and does not; and one that uses Twitter and Facebook and one that is ‘Nepali’ and does not. The PM and his party are slow-thinking behemoths, still stuck in the years of their war, and fail to understand the dynamics of the rapidly evolving Nepali society. Perhaps the high-command should go watch Satyajit Ray’s Hindi film Shatranj Ke Khilari, where the rulers are so engrossed in their games of chess, they don’t realize the power has quietly shifted away under them. But of course, that would be illegal.