Mee Raqsam means I dance.
The film is presented by Shabana Azmi and directed by
her brother, the acclaimed cinematographer Baba Azmi.
Mee Raqsam is an ode to their father Kaifi Azmi.
Kaifi Saab, who passed away in 2002,
was among India’s most renowned Urdu poets
and one of Hindi cinema’s finest lyricists.
Waqt Ne Kiya Kya Haseen Sitam from Kaagaz Ke Phool,
Ab Tumhare Hawaale Watan Saathiyon from Haqeeqat
and Chalte Chalte from Pakeezah,
are only some of the iconic songs he wrote.
If you look up videos of Kaifi saab on YouTube,
or watch Saeed Akhtar Mirza’s Naseem,
in which Kaifi saab played a lead role,
you see this profound compassion
and wisdom on his face.
He consistently wrote against religious fundamentalism
and was an ardent advocate,
of India’s composite culture.
Kaifi saab was a brilliant artist,
who stood for harmony and peace.
As his character so beautifully put it in Naseem:
Aasman neela ho, peela ho, koi farak nahi padta,
muskurana bahut zaroori hai.
The same humanism runs through Mee Raqsam.
The film has been entirely shot in
Kaifi saab’s village, Mijwan in UP.
The lead role of Mariam is played by Aditi Subedi,
who also comes from Mijwan.
Like Kaifi saab, Mariam is an artist.
She is obsessed with Bharatanatyam.
The love for dance is a legacy of her late mother,
who was also a fan.
After her mother passes away,
Mariam finds solace in the mudras
of the classical dance.
Even as she walks to school,
her hands are invariably practicing
an elegant dance move.
Her father Salim supports her passion.
But a Muslim girl learning a dance form,
which is perceived as Hindu, disrupts Mijwan.
Mariam’s family, the clergy, a Hindu arts patron -
all stand together in fierce opposition.
The story, by Safdar Mir and Husain Mir, is dramatic,
but Baba sets it up without shrillness.
There are no grand confrontations or speeches.
In fact, parts of the plot are simplistic
and the events seem implausibly easy.
Baba isn’t trying for the gut-wrenching
impact of a film like Mulk.
The textures of Mee Raqsam are naturalistic,
but there is a fairy-tale element,
to the way it all plays out.
The low-key storytelling adds to the dignity
of Mariam and Salim’s fight.
Salim, played by Danish Husain, is the spine of the film.
Salim is a humble tailor,
but his understanding of art and religion,
is far more sophisticated,
than that of the actual custodians of religion –
like a cleric, played by a nicely menacing
Naseeruddin Shah.
In one scene, Salim says:
"Hamara Islam itna toh kamzor nahi hai,
ki ek bachchi ke dance karne par uski toheen ho jayegi'.
Salim is unfailingly courteous,
but he doesn’t give an inch.
He pushes back against the powers,
that be without aggression.
Even when threatened, he stays polite.
Danish portrays Salim with conviction and gravitas.
The most moving thing about Salim, is that he has
little idea of his own courage in taking this stand.
He is simply doing what feels right.
Aditi of course doesn’t have
the polish of the veteran actor,
but her rawness and awkward moments,
feel natural and endearing.
The two generate a warmth that feels genuine.
Good intentions propel Mee Raqsam but in places,
the storytelling gets sketchy.
The characters, apart from Salim and Mariam,
don’t have enough depth.
They are stereotypes,
only there to fulfill a narrative function –
like Rakesh Chaturvedi - Om,
playing the Hindu businessman, who supports the
Bharatanatyam school in Mijwan.
He is so insistent on
downsizing Mariam’s achievements,
that he refuses to even get her name right.
It comes off as silly, but through the character,
the film makes the important point,
that bigots on both sides are equally dangerous.
Thankfully, Mee Raqsam is infused with sincerity,
which helps it tide over these soft spots.
"Kala ka koi mazhab nahin hota",
a character says emphatically in the film.
And that’s a truth, we don’t hear often enough.
You can watch Mee Raqsam on Zee 5.
