Calling Agent Hanuman

For a while, Pashtoons of my generation had played with our motto of, “dosti ki hai, nibhani toh padegi” by joking that Hanuman too may have been a Pashtoon. After all, why would anyone set his own tail on fire to save another’s wife? Other than Hanuman and a Pashtoon. Secreting yourself to foreign, strange lands and putting yourself on fire to keep to your word—calling Agent Hanuman Khan! However, it is only this year with Bajrangi Bhaijaan that someone has worked with the “Ek baar jo maine commitment kar di” dedication and the zealous devotion “jo dil mein aata hai, samajh mein nahin” that have been the hallmark of the Bajrang Bali folklore. Well let’s just say Kabir Khan has worked it to his project’s advantage.

Bajrangi Bhaijaan has so much Pakistan-India fraternal love: we get not one but two larger-than-life brother figures. Both contentious, I must say, with their share of detractors. Salman Khan, India ka bhai, and a hat tip to ‘Lala’ (elder brother) of Pakistan (Shahid Afridi—naam toh suna hi hoga). Lala appears even before Sallu Bhai on screen, and someone from the back seat in our Delhi theatre pipes up: “Afridi! Pakistan mein toh hit hi hogi.” The charming female protagonist of the film is named Shahida, as her mum too is a Lala fan girl. After so much bhai bhai aur unki behen ka pyaar, I would not have been surprised if the film ended with Afridi and Salman at the LoC, arms outstretched... Suraj kab door kiran se, chanda kab door gagan se: Yeh bandhan to pyaar ka bandhan hai. Sniff, mere Karan Arjun—sorry Khan-Afridi.

In lesser hands, this Hallmarkish project of bechari goongi Pakistani girl who has adopted shakahari Hanuman bhakt ready to cross his lakshman rekha to where the non-vegetarians are could have been a patronising, smarmy venture trying to please too many constituencies, managing to step on the toes of all quick to take offence. ‘Tis a rare “Pakistan appearing as a character” Hindi film that has passed the Pakistani censor board unscathed. My conflicted feelings towards Salman Khan aside, you can’t help blubbering a bit at the impossible closing scenes! ”Jo kaam Madhuri na kar saki” in all our “Madhuri de do, Kashmir le lo” years, “woh Sallu ne kar dikhaya”.

I have no idea how Bajrangi Bhaijaan will go down with Pakistani audiences, but let’s just say it makes the experience of watching Pakistan appearing as a character in Hindi cinema less cringeworthy. For a while Pakistanis have suffered the paradox of usi ko dekh kar jeete hain jis kaafir par dum nikle—managing our love affair with Hindi cinema and the agony of being its punching bag.

Not this time around.

Bajrangi Bhaijaan, rather Kabir Khan, has been sensitive enough not to be overly condescending towards the Pakistanis, also that it isn’t a “particular” kind of Pakistani who is insightful enough to understand Pawan/Bhaijaan’s implausible story. And that Bhaijaan is content in his bajrangi-ness where the Wild Things Are, Pakistanis in their salaam dua. Though (spoiler alert!) Kashmiri girl’s first words are Jai Shri Ram Mama! Awkward, Begum.

The team has been intelligent enough to use references and in-jokes that will go down well with Pakistani audiences. It is a special treat to watch a Chand Nawab (I love you Nawazuddin Siddiqui), Mullah Burqa, and a special appearance of the boti in the sabzi on our screens. Though watching all that chicken on screen on our last roza of the year, the day when the film released? Brahmanon se zyada hamara dharam bhrasht.

Aneela divides her time working on gender, religion, militarism and popular culture