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Tribhanga literally means divided into three, and is about three generations of women, their strengths and flaws; their compulsions and choices; their triumphs and losses; and their difficult relationships.
I’ve been on a TV watching spree… and just watched Tribhanga. A movie which brought Kajol and Tanvi Azmi, two of my favourites, onto my screen at home.
Set against the realities of single motherhood, a conservative and patriarchal society, child abuse, the baggage of having a parent who is larger than life, the movie is an exploration into the complexity of relationships, especially mother daughter relationships.
No movie of around 2 hrs can address all these issues, and Tribhanga doesn’t try or pretend to do that.
It just weaves the narratives of the women, their differing perspectives on the same circumstances with sensitivity, and without judging them for how they responded to situations.
It takes us on a journey of the lives of women that are the result of choices we make; or have others make for us. It is about how our choices are the result of not just our present, but also of our past.
It is a nuanced storytelling about the childhood wounds that we must heal from to be able to break free from them; or to have to them control us, our lives and happiness forever.
Holding on to our pain can stop us from doing what we need the most; and keep us from finding love and fulfillment. Healing the mother wound; letting go and being able to forgive are essential to breaking the cycle of trauma.
The subtlety of the sets, music and styling which adds so much to the experience was also a refreshing change from what we see routinely. In her first Hindi film as both script writer and director, Renuka Shahane comes across as almost flawless – something that can be said especially by the fact that the three women come across as very believable in their reasons for the choices they make, and that the male cast that supports the three main women have their own, well defined places in the story, and not just as foil.
Fun fact: Tanvi Azmi’s sarees especially are a treat for the eyes, for a handloom lover like me.
Coming from someone who watches extraordinarily little TV…. Don’t miss this one!
Shalini is a practicing doctor. After decades of writing long biopsy reports and applications for research grants, she decided to explore creative writing. She finds inspiration in the routine life and regular people around her. read more...
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I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
Every daughter, no matter how old, yearns to come home to her parents' place - ‘Home’ to us is where we were brought up with great care till marriage served us an eviction notice.
Every year Dugga comes home with her children and stays with her parents for ten days. These ten days are filled with fun and festivity. On the tenth day, everyone gathers to feed her sweets and bids her a teary-eyed adieu. ‘Dugga’ is no one but our Goddess Durga whose annual trip to Earth is scheduled in Autumn. She might be a Goddess to all. But to us, she is the next-door girl who returns home to stay with her parents.
When I was a child, I would cry on the day of Dashami (immersion) and ask Ma, “Why can’t she come again?” My mother would always smile back.
I mouthed the same dialogue as a 23-year-old, who was home for Durga Puja. This time, my mother graced me with a reply. “Durga is fortunate to come home at least once. But many have never been home after marriage.”
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