It is time we censored the Censor Board
http://expressbuzz.com/opinion/op-ed/it-is-time-we-censored-the-censor-board/242944.html
Page 11 of Jan28,2011 Indian Express
Leena Manimekalai
First Published : 27 Jan 2011 12:30:00 AM IST
Last Updated : 28 Jan 2011 12:41:50 AM IST
On December 31, 2010, the Censor Board of Film Certification (CBFC) watched and refused the clearance certificate to my film Sengadal for the following reasons. “This film contains many present political references in a denigrative way and usage of many unparliamentary words. There are some denigrating references of the functioning of the Sri Lankan Government. As the film violates guidelines, certificate to the film is refused.”
This experience has only taught me a lesson that it is dangerous to be right when the government is wrong. When Article 19 of the Constitution says, all citizens shall have the right to freedom of speech and expression, intimidation of CBFC, which is an ‘attached and subordinate’ organisation of the Ministry of I&B, with the free-to-use scissors on every other film made in this country is disastrous. Is it not evident that censorship has lost its relevance, when people have access to all kinds of visual entertainment over various media? Is it not dubious that CBFC plays the ‘moral police’ just for the films to be shown in theatres.
As a poet and a filmmaker I have been suffering hurdles in the way of free expression all through my profession by extra-constitutional pressure groups like political party goons, ultra left and ultra right ideological outfits, market, religious movements and even academic institutions. My documentary Parai on caste discrimination which runs to 40 minutes suffered 19 cuts by the CBFC in 2004 on the ground the film shall create law and order problems. I joined the Campaign against Censorship/Vikalp — forum of 250 independent filmmakers and detested the cuts and screened Parai at almost 200 villages by alternative means and the film ultimately called for government intervention in the locality addressed in the film by gearing up people’s movements. And now, Sengadal, which is a people participatory cinema has been refused permission for public exhibition.
Sengadal captures the fragments of ordinary lives beaten by three-decade-long ethnic war in Sri Lanka. It unfolds in a fisher village at Dhanushkodi, the southernmost tip of India and talks of the travails of the fishermen risking their lives everyday in the border waters between Sri Lanka and India. Kambippadu, a village in Dhanushkodi, that was washed out by floods caused by a cyclone in 1964 is now a village of ruins and this is the focal place where the fiction unwinds. This place, where simple traditional fishermen ply their trade, is where Tamil refugees land either in boats or as floating corpses. The fishermen of Kambippadu and the Tamil refugees from the Rameshwaram Mandapam refugee camp form the bulk of the artistes in Sengadal.
It was a difficult mission to make a film because Dhanushkodi is a place under constant surveillance by the Coast Guard, the Indian Navy, CB-CID, Q Branch and the Intelligence Bureau as the Sri Lanka is 18 kms away. We overcame all these barriers, natural and man-made, to see Sengadal honestly becomes a portrayal of the unrecognised community, constantly insecure.
What the world knows is that the war for a separate Tamil Eelam was merely bloodshed, violence and terror. But little is known about the struggle of the poor common folk and of the innocent fishermen caught in an internecine war. They are forced to flee a war-ravaged land, battle the sea, and reach India only to confront increasing hostility and an uncertain future.
The lives of the fishermen on mainland India are no different. We learn it from our everyday headlines. They are often mistaken for rebels, spies and smugglers and are beaten, maimed or killed by the Sri Lankan Navy.
I felt that I should not be a silent witness to this discrimination and human rights violation against a vulnerable society. I wanted to register my dissent and share their true story through cinema. When the CBFC stops me from exhibiting my film to the people, it is freedom of expression and right to information which is at stake.
If the government thinks that its citizens are capable of watching thousand and odd advertisements bulldozing the drawing halls of their homes broadcast in hundreds of channels and select which shampoo will bring more lather, if it feels that its citizens can see through headlines and breaking news manufactured by the political mafia-run channels and get their daily dose of ‘truth’ and considers that its citizens are entitled to watch any soap or any television show, can hear any radio programme and browse anything on Internet and remain wise, how come it decides that the moment its citizens buy a cinema ticket they become idiots?
To be eligible for participation in film festivals in India, Indian films need a CBFC certificate while foreign films get away with censorship exemption. The broadcasting ministry has to agree to ‘censorship exemption’ for foreign films. Otherwise, there won’t be foreign films available for exhibition in Indian festivals. But it cannot risk ‘uncomfortable’ or ‘critical’ films being shown at festivals organised by the government. This is stupidity and duplicity at its height.
However much the Indian state machinery wants us to believe that the CBFC carries out certification, in truth it still indulges in censorship in the classical sense. Many independent filmmakers feel that the main censorship law — the Cinematographic Act of 1952 — is archaic and needs a thorough review, especially in the light of rapid changes in the last decade. It is baffling that the political mafia can run their propaganda channels telecasting their rallies and inflammatory footage for hours uncensored but when a filmmaker uses bits and parts of it to show the real side, he/she is denied a screening certificate.
I feel that the censor board should be abolished altogether. What we need is a rating agency, classifying films as being suitable for universal viewing or under parental guidance or only for adults.
leenamanimekalai@gmail.com
Of untold tales and unheard voices, Sunday Express, I – Witness, 26.09.10. Ranjitha Gunasekaran
http://expressbuzz.com/magazine/of-untold-tales-and-unheard-voices/209629.html
Tourists come to Dhanushkodi in Rameswaram to see ruins and the searing blue of the sea. Film crews frequently shoot there. And until last year, it was where Tamil refugees from Sri Lanka would be dropped at night with instructions to reach the nearest police station and eventually Mandapam refugee camp.
The people of Dhanushkodi are rarely in the news. In fact, few visitors know that a fishing community lives there braving lack of roads, electricity, transport, and intrusions from the Coast Guard, Intelligence Bureau, Navy and whoever else is tasked with safeguarding the state’s porous coastline. So, when Leena Manimekalai heard of the community, of their untold stories, she felt compelled to document their lives. The film made is called Sengadal.
The documentary filmmaker and poet had visited Rameswaram earlier, to profile a fisherwoman for her film Goddesses, which won the Best Documentary at the Mumbai International Film Festival in 2008. “When I met the people living there, I found so many stories begging to be told. Each family has a widow, or has lost sons or is taking care of an orphaned child. Almost all the fishermen had encountered the Sri Lankan navy about six or seven times. They have such rich life experiences,” she explains.
Leena started with interviews of the people and then decided that to learn more of their lives, she would have to live with them. “It’s a very different life — no bathrooms, no electricity, no mobile signals. Even the dogs there are different because they feed on corpses. Their day starts at 3 am and ends by 9 am,” she points out. “As fishing folk, they are not used to borders and boundaries and for a long time they had a barter system with the Sri Lankan fishermen. But in recent years, their fishing has been restricted — each one has encountered the Sri Lankan Navy several times,” she says.
Added to this is the physical isolation they endure — no one is allowed to remain in Dhanushkodi after 6 pm for security purposes. Even though refugees have landed on its shores for years now, the people here have learnt not to extend friendship or help. “Their compassion has been tested by the authorities so many times that they know helping them would mean spending the rest of their lives facing enquiries!”
It is these nuances of their lives that pushed Leena into making the filmmaking process democratic and community-based. “Shobasakthi, the Sri Lankan Tamil writer and I worked on the script incorporating their stories within a fictional framework but after that we revised the script several times for the community’s inputs.”
Since the crew wanted the residents of Dhanushkodi to act in the film as well, Leena held a series of workshops for them. “They have seen technology only as outsiders, so there were problems when they had to participate with it. So we held workshops and shared each scene and dialogue with them,” she explains. This meant much argument, discussion and sometimes disagreement. “Sometimes, they would feel the situation was not as in real life or that a dialogue did not ring true and so we would make changes,” she says. The film also looks at another people whose lives are touched by Dhanushkodi — the refugees.“Again we worked with them, incorporated their stories and ideas — each person has a different story of how they reached that shore,” she says.
Of course such a collaborative process had its drawbacks. “Shobasakthi also played a role in the film. His character had a wife and a child and half their scenes had been shot, since he had only 60 days in the country, when the girl playing his daughter came of age. Her family wouldn’t allow her out for 30 days and the woman playing his wife had her period! With the limitations of time, we had to write both of them out of the script!”
Every cast member was paid daily wages as agreed to by their community — `350 to `500 — so once in a while, if they got a better job for the day they would not turn up. “Every day when we sent the vehicle to pick up people from the camp, someone wouldn’t be available — 17 would be part of the day’s shooting but only 13 would have turned up,” she laughs. However, if they got a better offer the crew just waited for them to come back. The crew itself started off with 60 members, dwindling to eight by the end of the shoot because of the harsh conditions.
The film was shot over 35 days in 2009 and survived despite the original producer walking out of the movie. “His team pulled out with 12 days left of the first schedule. I had to beg and borrow to raise enough money to complete the schedule. Now, there are people who won’t even take my calls,” she chuckles. Finally, Janaki Sivakumar of Tholpavai Theatres stepped in and helped produce the rest of the film that cost Rs 1 crore.
“The film is complete now but I am now worried about censorship. I don’t believe any part of this movie should be cut because the stories it tells are too important. If I don’t get to release it theatrically, I plan to screen it village by village through DVD. Let’s decentralise film distribution,” she says.
As of now, Sengadal has had a letter of interest from the Berlin Film Festival. “It is made for a global audience. It deals with language, ethnicity, borders and ultimately, the simple lives of fishermen and refugees,” she says. “But I would like our people in Tamil Nadu’s villages to have access to it as well,” she adds.
— ranjithagunasekaran@expressbuzz.com
Language is my first Love. My tryst with it is poetry. Conversation with Lakshmi Krupa, IDIVA, Times of India, Sep 24, 2010
Can you tell us a bit about yourself? Where you were born and brought up, your family, your education, etc.
I am born in a farmers family, deep down south of Tamilnadu, in a village called Maharajapuram at the slopes of western ghats of Virudhunagar district. My father Late Dr.R.Raghupathy, who is the first generation graduate of our family, was a Tamil Professor and my mother Ms.Rama is real country goddess with her unlimited spirit and energy. My village is a classic Kurinji(mountainscape) land and as so is my mind. Though my schooling was in an Anglo Indian Convent in cities like Chennai,Trichy strictly conditioned by early morning athletics, eight hours of subject classes, two hours of bharathanatyam, one hour of carnatic music, weekend hindi classes etc etc, my body always resonated to my summer life with Cattles, Pagan Gods and Goddesses like Mariamman, Karuppannasamy, Occult, Sithars(Sathuragiri hills), Rain fed rivers, deep wells, Lush green, Cycling, Swimming, Stealing fruits, Kittipuli(country games) etc in my village.
All men in our family seemed to be interested in revolution and practiced hard core left politics holding district level, state level, national level positions in Communist Party of India and all women in the household were running the kitchens,cattle and paddy fields to make a living. I guess all my questioning and rebellion started from that point of conflict. When there were pictures and books of Lenin, Bhagath Singh, Jeevanantham, Bharathiyar, Periyar all around my father’s study room, Periyar attracted me a lot even as a child. He made me think why there were no pictures or books of women leaders or writers around. My readings were random till my teens as there was too much of data around you. My student days were filled with Utopian dreams about revolution and all my experiments with poetry, dance, music, oratory, activism, drama throughout my youth were aimed at social change by revolt.
As any other middle class, studious student, I ended up doing my graduation in engineering and I did fair with an university rank but my calling was ART. It was a difficult and unsafe choice, said my family and many of my friends who were body-shopped to west but I decided to be faithful to my desire and freedom of choice.I happily abandoned my Instrumentation Engineering and started following my intuitions.
How did filmmaking become a passion?
My initial apprentice ship with mainstream filmmakers like Bharathiraja, Cheran and Jerrold were like an acid test but I always thought I had entered a wrong laboratory. I spent a very brief period out there in the “industry” but soon realized that am not an industry person at all. But Cinema as a tool of expression caught my imagination and for me who had appreciation and training in various art forms, it was a super cool medium. Digital Cinema as a democratic, independent space and not dictated by market enthused me. For me who is in the constant search on finding my own voice and also to make it heard, Independent Cinema was the best. I attached my body to a handy camera, microphone and a mac-book and started my endless drive towards un shed truths and dark spaces. My strong belief on art as an intervention with myself, my life, my society is a constant evolution and am obsessed with it.
And how did poetry happen?
Language is my first Love. My tryst with it is poetry. I might have killed myself or murdered a few, If I had not known and allowed to write. I started writing to resolve the conflicts myself but slowly realized that it can also be a mirror which others want to see themselves and have a dialog with it or throw stones and break it. I am fine any of the reactions because for me, reactions are important. I believe strongly that giving oneself over fully to life’s experiences and subjecting it to keen and relentless observation are what gives a person the language for poetry and a fertile expanse of ideas. The Tamil poetry tradition or by one’s acquaintance with the discourses of feminism, poetry in its entirety demands an endless enquiry into the self, and cycles of the self’s destruction and renewal. In particular, it is vitally important not to distance oneself from life’s struggles.
As an evolving poet myself with one Tamil poetry anthology “Otraiyilaiyena” (As a single leaf) which has seen three editions so far and the second one “Ulagin Azhagiya Muthal Penn” (The first beautiful woman in the world) which has invited mixed reactions like “Iyal Poetry Award” for 2009, call for ban by some Hindu People’ s Party, repressive attacks and attempts to curb right to expression by some left fanatics like Makkal Kalai Ilakiya Kazhagam etc, my conviction towards poetry as the finest form of human experience has only become strong.
How do you decide to make a film on a particular issue? Can you take us through your creative process?
I guess, I should recall my works.
Mathamma captured the practice of devoting the girl children to the deity of the folks of Arundhati community in Arakonam district and Parai revealed the status of Dalit population, particularly women in India with the south Indian village Siruthondamadevi as a classic example. Both Mathamma and Parai triggered a successful video participatory movement, which ultimately demanded the immediate government intervention, securing protection to women who were harassed in the name of caste in the locality. Break the Shackles focused on how the three track policy of globalization, privatization and liberalization without the interest of social justice in a highly unequal structure of country like India becomes more discriminative to dalits, the downtrodden. Connecting Lines spoke about student politics in India and Germany, its background, indulgences, activism and struggles pragmatically to reveal the conflict and indeed a dialog for resolution. Waves after waves, explored how art forms magically rejuvenate the lives of children, disrupted by the major natural disaster Tsunami 2004. Altar is a documentary intervention on child marriages and how women and children become victims of religious beliefs and practices in Kambalathu Naicker Community. A Hole in the Bucket, is a factual story of thirst and sanitation from chennai, the urban south of India and Goddesses is the notes from the lives of three extra ordinary women – a funeral singer; a fisherwoman; a graveyard worker.
I choose subjects in which I can place myself also as a subject without any compromise. Dealing with the community is not like dealing with actors. I am more responsible and I am committed to fight till the end. I have done this so far with all my indulgence even when in certain cases, you do not get to anywhere .Let me honestly tell you that I really do not believe in change in one night by one film. Change is a long long process.I am just attempting to create a participatory dialog with my film practice. I trial, error, seek and try to find some answers collectively. In the whole process, I try to create a three dimensional cinema and only when all the three elements say, Image – Sound, Maker and the audience participate and interact equally, the film attains its fullest form.
What are you currently working on?
I am currently working on my debu feature film Sengadal. Please log on to seewww.sengadal.com.
Sengadal the Dead Sea is a feature fiction film which captures the fragments of simple lives beaten by three decade long ethnic war in Srilanka. It unfolds in a fisher village at Dhanushkodi, the southernmost tip of India, where life and death co exist.
What about being socially aware and carrying the voice of others do you enjoy the most?
I do not carry the voice of others. I am one among my people and raise my voice along with them.It makes my journey of life more meaningful. My art practice will not be cowed down by any threat or scandals or character assassination or isolation or annihilation. I will not let my freedom to be taken for granted at any cost.
Vagina Tamilogues
Brief version
Times of India
Do you think the works of such women poets have helped widen society’s views on women’s bodies in some way? Do you see more women becoming aware of their bodies and not being ashamed of it because of reading such texts?
Leena Manimekalai
Ofcourse yes, I would say.Body for a woman in this patriarchal moralist society is a Prison. There is a constant vigilance by institutions like say state,religion,family,caste on a woman’s body. Her roles as a wife, mother, sister and likes are inscribed in her body. When women resist the construct and try to write as an act of subversion, she is again left with the patriarchal tool called language. When a woman becomes aware, questioning arises, conflict intensifies, change evolves. Poetry certainly helps women to become self aware. Lot of my women readers particularly young women readers have written and spoken to me about how poetry helped them to negotiate the guilt they have been conditioned about their bodies, desire and identities.
Times of India
Are you seeing more women poets emerging in this field? Women like Salma, Kutti Revathi and Malathi Maithri gained fame in the early 90s for their work but have you seen younger entrants in the field since then?
Leena Manimekalai
It is not early 90s. It is in the beginning of 2000. This is the period when non Brahman and Dalit women came as a force in tamil literary expression. It is an out burst of long history of oppression and denial to knowledge, arts and expression to them..About young entrants, yes for me, they(Malathi,Kutti Revathi,Suganthi Subramanaim) were there with the lanterns. Now I am here , as an electrode. There will be someone who will be a cyborg down the lane.
Times of India
How have you approached the subject of women’s bodies in your work? Can you give us a few details about such projects?
Leena Manimekalai
For me, poetry is translating desire. I kind of try and challenge the existing design. I drink my menstrual blood when someone says, it is impure. I would recommend a piercing in clitoris when someone comes with a knife to do genital mutilation. I am attracted to both women and men and am pro choice with regards to sexuality. I write this, I practice the same and try to live free. I can only talk about change, when I live free. As an artiste, Its impossible for me to be faithful to power structures including ideologies. And I detest censorship.
If all this is comprehended as living dangerous, I am happy, I have chosen it. Because safety is slavery.
Times of India
Could you tell us in detail what ‘Ulakin Azhakiya Muthal Penn’ is about? What stirred the controversy with Hindu Makkal Katchi? Why was the content referred to as ‘obscene’?
Leena Manimekalai
There is an asymmetrical relations between woman and language whose norms and usage are controlled by dominant patriarchy. The problem lies with the linguistic codes that are embedded in a culture – gender specific socialization that prohibits women from speaking or writing about issues that are potentially considered socially disruptive. Desire can be a dirty word to some religious and ideological fanatics but not to a poet.Maybe, for them true indian respect to women is equivalent to treating them asexual. Religious definitions of “obscenity” “indecency”, slip to dangerous propositions like moral policing and result in a threat to freedom of expression. This puritanical notion neither liberate or empower women or men not nurture art.
Times of India
Your blog mentions you took up a visual arts fellowship with PSBT on Tamil women, poetry and desire through the ages of Sangam, Medieval and Modern Periods. Could you tell us about that? Did you come across any interesting findings?
Leena Manimekalai
A man forges his early creative work from the expanse of his imagination and from the world of abstractions traversed by his mind. In contrast, a woman, I believe, mines the boarded-up space that is her body for words and offers them to the world. As a means of protesting the silence into which it has been coerced, the female body keeps imprinting on itself all the seasonal changes being wrought continuously by Nature.The film will explore the passionate language of women writers in Tamil literature from Sangam to Contemporary times who know where to situate their bodies, themselves and their poetry. It would like to explore how the body emerges in their poems as something they own but as something that is constantly put in a space that falls within both the private and public spheres. The film will be interested to interpret how these poems see the body both as a site of struggle and celebration. Birth, death and love get written on the body and also violence, violation and power.. The film will try and imprint the enigmatic envision of sensuality in Sangam to present Tamil women poetry.
Times of India
Finally, could you talk to us about your future projects?
Leena Manimekalai
My current project is Sengadal(www.sengadal.com), which is my debu fiction feature film, and scheduled to be completed by September end. My PSBT fellowship film should be finished by this December and am also at the moment compiling my third collection of poetry “Parathaiyargalin Raani”i.e “Queen of Sluts” in English.
Karthika Gopalakrishnan for Times of India
Published Version