Heeramandi Unveiled: A Look into SRB's Dazzling TV Debut
I had been waiting for months for the release of Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s ‘Heeramandi’ series on Netflix so forgive me for putting my life on pause on Thursday, May 1 as I binge-watched it from start to finish that day.
Of late, as a Pakistani living in the UK with two young children, I find myself drawn back to South Asian culture. I spent years cocooning my desi identity in order to ‘fit in’ but perhaps it is the softening of our sharp edges by parenthood, or the way in which we see world events unfolding that I now find myself longing to reconnect with my culture, even in subtle ways, like getting my nose pierced again, or buying a henna pack online.
So imagine my delight at the clothing, makeup, and jewellery depicted in this series. The aesthetics of the series take on a life of their own and you can say they are omniscient narrators in their own right. I initially started watching the series on my laptop but soon switched to the largest screen in the house so that I could properly appreciate the brilliant cinematography.
SLB is famous for his exquisite sets and costume design, but the image of Manisha Koirala decorated in henna, shielded by a sheer dupatta from the eyes of ‘commoners’ will stay embedded in my memory for a while. South Asia has contributed to beauty culture around the world for generations, way before it became cool to drink haldi doodh for glowing skin, and through Heeramandi, SLB and his team pay tribute to ancient beauty practices and traditions, e.g. Indian head massages, Henna as an art form, and the beautiful ghungroos, jhumkas and naths that dazzle in every scene.
As Svetlana Tulasi, a famous Russian-Indian Kathak Dancer stated on Instagram, Manisha Koirala as Mallikajaan (madame supreme of Shahi Mahal) gives us ‘Meryl Streep in Devil Wears Prada energy, but desi.’ One could go so far as to say this may be the best performance of Koirala’s career.
Sonakshi Sinha embodies 1920s style with her winged eyeliner and fierce red lip, playing both Rehana Apa (Mallikajaan’s older sister) and Fareedan (Rehana’s daughter). It has been a while since I’ve watched a Bollywood production with ‘double-roles’ and that in itself brought back waves of nostalgia.
Shekhar Suman, of Dekh Bhai Dekh fame, plays Mallikajaan’s long-term sahib, Nawab Zulfiqar. There is a ‘double-role’ element at play here as well, but I did promise there would be no spoilers.
Richa Chadha’s character Lajjo, through her drunken shenanigans and witty one-liners, unlocks a particularly important twist in the series. I will forever remember her line to Alamzeb, Sharmin Segal’s character, loosely translated as “a woman’s biggest enemy are her dreams”. Her character stumbles through life at the Mahal in an intoxicated haze, numbing herself to the pain that has lived inside her since she was left at the brothel as a child by a cruel aunt.
Sanjeeda Shaikh portrays Waheedan, Mallikajaan’s younger sister, who envies her. older sister, constantly plotting to bring about her downfall. Like the Disney cartoon villain vying for an older sibling’s throne, she too, has a scar – the story behind it is revealed in the first half of the series and is central to the plot.
The series is a delight for anyone simply wanting to take in the beauty and glamour of an Indian period drama, but SLB has touched upon some important themes which are very relevant to us today. The series is set in pre-partition Lahore against the backdrop of the emerging ‘Quit India’ movement and the stirrings of dissent against British colonial rule.
To me, the occurrence of double-role characters indicates the duality of the human psyche. SLB teaches a masterclass in creating believable morally grey characters who we can empathise with. Apart from the British colonial settlers who are without a doubt the villains in the show, most of the characters dance on a spectrum of gray, sometimes leaning into their dark side, and sometimes walking towards the light.
Except perhaps Aditi Rao Hyderi’s character Bibbojaan. This is her second rodeo at SLB productions, the first being her portrayal of the ethereal Mehrunnisa in Padmaavat. Hyderi delights as she unpeels the many layers of her character; talented funkaara and courtesan, doting older sister to Alamzeb and loyal daughter to Mallikajaan. Her most important role in the film though, is that of the revolutionary. Here, SLB makes us remember the sacrifices women have made throughout history for the wars created by men. These are never talked about, or glorified, and often it is only the men’s contributions which are referred to. For the reader who is more acquainted with Western History, I urge you to look at Noor Inayat Khan and Anne Frank who played pivotal roles in history’s wars, in order to understand the message SLB is trying to convey.
Even most of the Nawabs aren’t truly rotten to the core, spoiled though they may be. I said most. I will leave you to guess which Nawab can be categorised as the ‘villain’ who sides with the British. To me, the Nawabs and the British policemen in the series signify the patriarchy of today. The feuding women of Shahi Mahal bury their differences and band together, realising they only have each other. To paraphrase Mallika Jaan, “the British, the Nawabs and our kismet have betrayed us, but our zameen, our land will never forget our sacrifices.”
I can’t help but think about the parallels between the scenes showing the struggle for India’s independence, and the events that are unfolding in the world today, with the violence shown against students protesting a genocide (the song ‘Azadi’ shows the women of Heeramandi being attacked by policemen during a peaceful vigil) and the silencing of politicians, academics and business owners in influential positions for fear of losing their prestige, their reputation and their funding (our very own modern day Nawabs).
Heeramandi has been criticised by some as not being authentic, in terms of language, dress, and Lahori cultural traditions. I would like to play the ‘artistic license’ card here on behalf of SLB. This is a work of fiction, albeit set in a very real time in our history. Any body of work that unites the many different cultures and people of the Indian subcontinent has my vote. Like most large cultural hubs, Lahore is not home to only one language or one culture, even if Punjabi is more dominant in music, food, language and culture than Urdu. The serious themes in the series are peppered with comic relief, provided by Satto, Phatto, Ustad Ji, and the loveable Qudsia Begum, aka Farida Jalal.
If the above are not enough for you to watch Heeramandi, Taha Shah as Tajdar Baloch plays the son of a Nawab and the romantic hero of the series, caught between his quest for the greater good, and his love for Alamzeb, the daughter of a courtesan. It is his fate in the series that unites the feuding ladies of Shahi Mahal in their fight for independence. A man of principle, unlike most of the other Nawabs, he has his flaws but his charged performance towards the end of the series definitely moves him into the ‘good’ camp.
I could go on and on about the merits of this work of art, but I will leave you with these thoughts.
“The truth is, no one of us can be free until everybody is free.” - Maya Angelou
Inquilaab.