The otherwise culturally sleepy hill station of Shimla in North India came alive with the Indian Panorama Film Festival. Two films “Haat: The Weekly Bazaar” (directed by Seema Kapoor) and "Ijjodu” (directed by the well-known M.S. Sathyu) though separated in terms of language and locale had much in common. Both dealt with the exploitation of women, fallen victim to regressive custom and superstition.

In "Haat”, based in Rajasthan (North India) we have a film which could have degenerated into tragic denouement. Instead, the heroine Sanja chooses to stand up for herself and fight against the horrific custom of 'Natha Pratha', whereby if a woman wants to leave a male figure in her life, she has to dole out a hefty compensation. If she is not able to do so, she faces complete degradation by having her face blackened and being paraded naked in front of the whole village. This humiliation does not extend to her husband

who can leave her at his whim and fancy. At the end of the film we have a heroine who has been through a trial of fire but refuses to go under. In the process she teaches the men of the village a lesson, helped by women elders who strip themselves to expose the cruelty and senselessness of a custom imposed by a patriarchal and exploitative society.

Would village women really be in a position to mobilise others? Divya Dutta, the actor who plays protagonist Sanja, believes so. And we really need to look at the powerful women's movements all round the world. In India, we have the Chipko (literally “to stick” in Hindi” where women from Uttar Pradesh were able to save forest wealth by the simple act of hugging trees to prevent them from being felled. Closer to Bangladesh, we have a number of women's groups that have enabled women to organise themselves and fight for their rights.

Chenni, the heroine of “Ijjodu” (made in Kannada, the language of Karnataka, located in South India) is less

fortunate. She is a Devadasi, a woman who was “married” off and dedicated to a deity to save her village from being wiped out by a devastating epidemic. Her plight is made worse as Devadasis often end up becoming sex workers. A brief encounter with a high minded photo journalist changes her life as he advises her to start afresh. When despite his moralising, he

rejects her, she is driven to suicide.

At the end of the film, Sathyu took on questions from the audience. He pointed out that despite being banned in India, the Devadasi custom is still widely prevalent in Indian states such as Maharashtra, Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh and Orissa.

On a somewhat startling

note, Sathyu asserted, “Lata Mangeshkar was made a Devadasi and therefore was not allowed to marry.” A member of the audience gave him the benefit of the doubt by pointing out, “Lataji always said that she was married to her sangeet."

Whatever the controversies surrounding the two films, they certainly gave food for thought.