In the years following 2014, as the literary circuit of our country witnessed substantial works published by noted authors and historians that delved into unadulterated chronicles of Bharat’s past, one of the refrains that constantly permeated through erudite circles was how, post- Independence, we were starved of stories that exalted the pantheon of legendary Hindu kings and brave hearts. This was one of the main reasons why Vikram Sampath wrote Bravehearts of Bharat: Vignettes from Indian History. To prove how important Hindu rulers (both men and women) and warriors were in establishing the core foundation of India by offering resistance to Abrahamic invaders.
As readers gradually discovered tales of bravura and valour displayed by our royal forefathers who safeguarded not just our Motherland against treacherous invasions for centuries but also fought wars to reclaim territories as well as honour, it became evident we were being brainwashed with agenda-based education that hid more than revealed. Till date, our school history textbooks put the Mughals on a pedestal of glory so that students grow up thinking without those invaders who trooped in from the deserts, India would not be even reckoned. There is fabricated information of their ‘good governance’ while tales of their communal tyranny and bigoted excesses are withheld from public discourse.
As someone who was educated in a missionary school in the 90s, our Hindu consciousness was forcefully subdued as we were tutored to understand how great the Mughals were. Most Hindus growing up during that phase wallowed in self-doubt and pity considering they were constantly fed with narrations where Hindu kings were being vanquished by Islamic invaders. No one put it into perspective that most of the Hindu warriors were dauntless, they sacrificed themselves selflessly to protect their country and people. They withstood repeated attempts of invasion gallantly before some mole gave them away if not some strategic error driven by moral standards. In short, the education system manipulated us in order that we are deprived of inspirational instances. In times when middle class parents were busy trying to make ends meet, there was hardly time to indulge in story sessions powered by local folklore. Too many Sanatani historic legends slipped into oblivion in the process. Unfortunately, the medium of cinema in India too, went on an overdrive to glorify, if not romanticize, the Shah Jahans and the Akbars in formats suited to just entertain and not educate the masses who however decided that this soft power was representing the truth and not a sugar-coated fallacy.
Cinema is a powerful tool of influence. In my opinion, it has a far wider reach than books. Hence, moviemakers have greater responsibility in shaping narratives with dramatic depictions. But yes, the creative expression needs to be sound. It needs to have a high retention value borne out of fabulous execution and sound story telling. In a matter of a few hours, the message needs to hit the mark. This happens when a film is technically sharp and visually aesthetic. And most importantly, the story bears a magnetic charm. Anyone who has browsed through pages of the life of Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj would acquiesce to the daredevil spirit of the Maratha ruler. There couldn’t be any dull moment if his adventures were discussed in a threadbare fashion. But it sure would need precision to bring those adventures to life on the silver screen. As I watched Laxman Utekar’s Chhaava with my 12-year-old boy I witnessed Saurabh Goswami’s craft doing all that and more. The camera renders a heroic charm to the Maratha legend who swore to fulfil his father, Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj’s dream of Hindavi Swaraj in Bharat. It is difficult not to be swept away by the riveting aura of this man who existed in real life. If the stardust gleamed so brightly in a reel version, imagine what the grandeur of his persona would have been in real!
Chhaava presents a streamlined account of those portions of Sambhaji’s life that every Bharatiya must know about. Following in the footsteps of a father like Shivaji, Sambhaji proves to be the perfect son when he challenges the Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb who had crippled the soul of India with his tyrannical rule and bigotry against Hindus. The script narrates history but ensures it does not get too heavy for the audience to comprehend because the end aim is simple—that we gauge how the strategic might of Sambhaji scared the wits out of insecure Aurangzeb, who has always been painted as a leviathan in India. A scene has Sambhaji declaring that the Mughal Army approaching Deccan cannot be challenged with just fierce power. The iconic guerilla tactics of Maratha warfare is what we witness in the next few montages that brings together the fantastic score of AR Rahman and some mind-blowing action sequences. Not to mention the near perfect expressions of Vicky Kaushal, but on that, later.
Brave is but an understatement to describe Sambhaji. If a man elicits awe and respect till date the moment his exploits are spoken of, he possibly is much more than courageous. There are moments where the legend’s emotions as a loving husband and a son are highlighted that magnifies the sacrifices he made for his motherland. If only he wasn’t betrayed by his own relatives who turned out to be petty, greedy and untrustworthy. The Hindu community has always been at the receiving end of treachery by its own members. The subplots surrounding Soyrabai Bhosale, Yesubai’s brothers and several heads of different Deccan sections who joined hands with the Mughals exposed this reality.
The movie sheds light on another truth as well. The stark reality of who Aurangzeb was. What I had read in S L Bhyrappa’s Aavarana: The Veil, was validated in Chhaava. A maulvi in the story declares that Aurangzeb was a ‘saccha musalmaan’ because he was following the decree of Islam to the tee by destroying Hindu mandirs, by forcefully converting Hindus, by ensuring his men raped and brutalized Hindu women and by spreading a reign of terror across Bharat wherever Hindus were the majority. My deductions were that this was a ruler who did all this not just to amass wealth and spread his territorial holdings. He clearly was up in arms to make India an Islamic country. Maybe he would succeed if warriors like Shivaji Maharaj and Sambhaji Maharaj did not impede his devilish march. There is constant allusion to how communal Aurangzeb was and how the Marathas would ensure every religion would be able to prosper in equanimity in Swaraj.
This could fob off many viewers who feel this thread of secularism is unnecessary in the narrative but essentially it was a balancing factor. Aurangzeb tries to lure Sambhaji with reprieve if he converted to Islam but the captive declines it with a brush of swagger even when death looms over his majestic frame. This was a masterstroke by the filmmakers. To show the hatred Islamic invaders bore towards Hindus. After Hrithik Roshan’s excessively greenwashed depiction of Akbar in Ashutosh Gowaikar’s Jodhaa Akbar, Akshaye Khanna fits the role of Aurangzeb like a glove. He’s menacing and mean with oodles of insecurity and jealousy thrown in. Khanna proved yet again why he is needed more often when good cinema is desired.
While the casting is well thought out (Diana Penty surprises as the cold and calculative Zinat-un-Nissa, Aurangzeb’s daughter), the biopic belongs to Vicky Kaushal. After the washout Samrat Prithviraj where Akshay Kumar made a laughing stock of Prthviraj Chauhan, I have been very sceptical about mainstream Hindi film actors portraying Hindu kings on screen. Somehow, they never seem to catch the intrepid vibe. But after Chhaava, the Hindi film industry can confidently say that they have found the apt ‘chhatrapati’. Kaushal didn’t need to prove his histrionic skills. This was a film where expressions and personality needed to blend with onscreen flamboyance and agility. When you watch the action at play, you will witness Kaushal roaring like a lion. In the sequence where the brave Maratha is engaged in a duel with a lion, retentive perfection is extracted. But it is in the last few moments where Aurangzeb’s men torture Sambhaji in captivity, Kaushal the actor ensures he makes Sambhaji indomitable in spirit. The light of Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj may have been extinguished but Vicky Kaushal has made him live on in our consciousness forever…
