Enter, the brave new heroine

There has been an explosion of estrogen on screen recently” says Jitesh Pillai, editor-in-chief of Filmfare, “and it’s become quite risqué!” Social anthropologists who want to understand India will ignore Bollywood at their own peril. For all its pelvic thrusts, larger-than-life characters and vaulting orchestras, Bollywood has held a mirror to the changing mores of India, and never has it been so closely in step with it as today.

Mall culture, the consumer class, the demographics of a young aspirational populace, young angst, disillusionment with the powers that be — all this has been reflected so accurately in films like Satya, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Dev D and Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara.

But it is in the way that Bollywood has treated female sexuality and women who have shades of gray in their character that the real and astonishingly remarkable strides of a young nation have been seen. Today’s Indian woman is unafraid of her sexuality and in many cases unencumbered by middle class morality and the good-girl image of yore.

I am not talking about films like Jism or Murder, or actresses like Rakhi Sawant and Mallika Sherawat who wear their sexuality on their sleeve, but of films over the decades made by intelligent film makers which have introduced us to a brave new Indian woman who is unafraid of her sexuality, and unapologetic of her sexual desires.

In Mahesh Manjrekar’s Astitva, Tabu played a woman married to an impotent man who sought to fulfill her sexual needs outside the purview of her marriage and was unapologetic about it.

In Yash Chopra’s Silsila, Rekha as the other woman was not stigmatised but portrayed with empathy; and in Mira Nair’s Kama Sutra, Deepa Mehta’s Fire and Kalpana Lajmi’s Bas Ek Pal, the sexual needs of the heroines were an important factor of the storyline.

Today, of course, mainstream and art house films have liberated the heroine from her Sati Savitri regressive image even more. In Tanu Weds Manu, Kangna Ranaut’s character smokes, gets drunk and flirts with gusto; in Mere Brother Ki Dulhan, Katrina Kaif rolls joints and snorts coke; and in That Girl in Yellow Boots, the lovely Kalki Koechlin takes matters into her own hands in more ways than one, while Deepika Padukone is happy to Dum Maro Dum with the best of them in

the film by the same name. In Rockstar, Nargis Fakhri’s penchant for strip clubs, desi daru and blue movies is presented as one more facet of her lovable character.

And it’s not the offbeat brave new actresses who are embracing these roles either: Rani Mukerji and Kareena Kapoor’s expletives in No One Killed Jessica and Ra.One are presented with flourish.

Earlier in the decade, Bollywood had liberated its heroes from the shackle of the good-guy image and allowed them to depict shades of gray, with Amitabh in Agneepath, Sanjay Dutt in Khalnayak, Shah Rukh Khan in Don, and Ajay Devgn in Once Upon A time in Mumbaai.

Mercifully, the same appears to be happening to the Indian film heroine — and because of its symbiotic relationship with Indian society — the Indian woman too.