The courtesan and the sportsperson
SOHINI
IN the book Dancing with the Nation, the gender
and sexuality studies scholar Ruth Vanita studied 235
films in ‘Bombay cinema’ where the courtesan is a ‘relevant’ character. This is
not an exhaustive list, she noted, but the largest sample studied so far. It
underlined just how central the figure of the courtesan is to popular Hindi
cinema. The term courtesan used in this analysis means not only the ‘tawaif’ in the ‘kotha’ but any
woman performer, including singers, dancers, folks artists like nautanki performers and actors.
Later in the essay, I discuss the nomenclature.
Hollywood also makes the occasional film on women performers – such as Judy
(2019), Black Swan (2010), Chicago
(2002) but is nowhere near as fixated as Hindi cinema is on the performing
woman. Ditto for European language films. ‘Every major
female star from the 1950s to the 1990s played a courtesan at least once in her
career’, Vanita has written in Dancing with the
Nation.
Every major Hindi film heroine of this generation,
however, will likely play a sportsperson. And indeed,
every major hero too. The courtesan in all her avatars is now
increasingly anachronistic although she may yet feature in the odd period-piece
by Sanjay Leela Bhansali.
But that is what it is now: the exception rather than the benchmark that it was
until the 1990s. The performing body and person that is
in focus at this moment is that of the sportsperson.
The sportsperson appears first in a major way in 2001
with Lagan, the first Hindi film since 1958 Mother India to make
the final shortlist of nominations for the Oscars. The film’s double success of
smashing box office returns and the Oscar coup inaugurated Bollywood’s
interest inthe sport film. In the two decades since,
the sport film has emerged as a full-fledged Bollywood
genre with distinctive features. Every major star in Mumbai, men and women, has
done a sport film since Lagan and several more are in the works after the 2021
Olympics campaign, the best ever for India in terms of medals won.
A brief list: Aamir Khan,
who pioneered the genre in Bollywood, has done Lagaan about a Gujarati cricket team playing a British
colonial team and Dangal (2016), the story of
a patriarch coaching his girls in wrestling. Both are massive hits. In 2005, a
film called Iqbal about a deaf-mute fast
bowler played by the then newcomer Shreyas Talpade became a major success and made Talpade
a leading man contender for a few years. Shah Rukh
Khan leads Chak de! India (2007),
playing a (disgraced former player) and coach for the Indian women’s hockey
team, an influential hit whose dialogues and songs remain in regular circulation
14 years after its release. Salman Khan and Anushka Sharma are both wrestlers in Sultan (2016). Priyanka Chopra plays Mary Kom
(2014), the real life six-time women’s boxing world champion in the eponymous
biopic. Sushant Singh Rajput
plays India’s former cricket captain Mahendra Singh Dhoni in MS Dhoni (2017),
the late actor’s biggest career success. Akshay Kumar
plays the manager of the independent India’s first Olympic men’s hockey team in
Gold (2018), which did reasonably at the box office. Kangana
Ranaut plays a state-level athlete in Tanu Weds Manu Returns (2015), her biggest
hit, and a retired kabaddi player in Panga (2020), a box office failure for which Ranaut nevertheless won a national award for her
performance. Parineeti Chopra plays the badminton
champion Saina Nehwal in Saina (2021). Rannveer
Singh plays former Indian captain Kapil Dev in the
mostly-praised 83 (2022) about the men’s cricket team’s maiden World Cup
victory.
Taapsee Pannu is awaiting the
release of Shabash Mitthu
(slated for 2022), where she essays women’s cricket captain Mithali
Raj. Pannu, who brings a striking physicality to her
performances, has been cast as a sportsperson several times. She and Bhumi Pednekar play champion
shooters in Saand kii
Aankh (2019), and in Rashmi
Rocket (2021), she plays an athlete called out for not being a woman like
the Biopics on the double Olympic medallist
in badminton P.V. Sindhu and India’s first individual
Olympic medallist weightlighter
Karnam Malleswari are in
the works. This is not an exhaustive list. I have left out several notable
films because my intention is not encyclopaedic but
to make an argument.
For long, perhaps forever, the Hindi film’s idea of
the performer is the singer and dancer in the mould of the courtesan, often
identified with the Islamicate film due to the
outsize box office returns and/or influence of certain films and performances
such as Umrao Jaan,
Pakeezah, Mughal-e-Azam.
But as Vanita noted, the Islamicate
conflation is mistaken. There are just as many Hindu devadasi
or proscenium style dancer characters, several of them notable: Waheeda Rahman’s Rosie, who
dances a bharatnatyam-style form in Guide, Rekha’s Vasantasena in Utsav, Vyajayanthimala
Bali’s Chandramukhi in Devdas,
or indeed any iteration of Chandramukhi in the
various versions of Devdas.
Variations of the courtesan is the dancing girl (most
famously essayed by Helen) and the item girl from the late 1990s through the Noughties, begun by well known actress dancers like Urmila Matondkar in China Gate
(‘Chhamma Chhamma’) and Shilpa Shetty in the film Shool (‘Dilwalon ke dil kaa
karaar loot ke’). But the
figure has also been played as itinerant
gypsy performer like Aruna Irani
in Carvaan, Hema Malini in Seeta
aur Geeta and Jaya Bachchan in Zanzeer. Tabu has played a version of this figure as bar dancer in Chandni Bar, Madhuri
Dixit as a hybrid of the bar dancer and show performer in Tezaab,
and Kareena Kapoor as a
hybrid of a street walker and bar dancer in Chameli
and Talaash. Perhaps, most interesting of
these renditions is Smita Patil
as an actress in Bhumika, the daughter of a
family where her grandmother is a well known singer with her own gramophone
records.
Another favourite is Urmila Matondkar’s Millie in the marvellous Rangeela, where
she plays a background film set dancer who catches the director’s eye and plays
the leading lady, an acknowledgement of the careers of several marquee actors
in Hindi film like Sadhona Bose, Vyjayanthimala,
Waheeda Rehman, Hema Malini who were known as
accomplished dancers and were primarily chosen for their dancing skills. Usha Iyer’s book Dancing Women
is an account of how such dancing stars shaped Hindi cinema, and indeed changed
the technologies of its idiom. (For the film Guide, for instance, the crew had
to devise a certain new camera placement and angle in order to capture its
leading actress Waheeda Rahman’s
dance movement. In several films where well known dancers were cast, filmmakers
would insert special song and dance sequences to showcase their dancing.)
Why is the courtesan so central to the idea of the
performing figure? One reason is the nature of film financing, a considerable
part of which came from cotton mill owners in the Bombay Presidency, according
to film scholar Debashree Mukherjee
in the book Bombay Hustle: ‘One of Bombay’s oldest film studios Kohinoor
Film Company was started by a local cotton mill owner Dwarkadas
Sampat... The earliest avatar of Bombay Talkies, the
“Indian Players” received financial backing from the cotton merchant-turned
Theosophist Jamnadas Dwarkadas
in 1923 for its proposed film, Light of Asia... When the Indian Players started
Bombay Talkies, their studio was built on the property of F.E. Dinshaw, a member of the BT Board of Directors who had made
his fortunes partly from the Bombay cotton industry’, alongside many other
names from the cotton mercantile ecology.
In Dancing with the Nation, Vanita
makes clear that many of these business magnates were also patrons of the
courtesan economy and the performing arts culture in general, alongside
aristocratic patrons, who started to dwindle in the 20th century. They brought
the aesthetic of the courtesan culture as well as poets and writers along with the
performing women. A significant number of women from courtesan lineages did
indeed come into public performance on stage, radio, theatre and film in the
early 20th century. These include Begum Akhtar and
M.S. Subbalakshmi and Jaddan
Bai, who setup her own film company. Many male
musicians and performers associated with courts worked on stage and film, such
as Pt Lachhu Maharaj, an
exponent of Kathak, who choreographed Mughal-e-Azam and Pakeezah among many others. His descendant Birju Maharaj, a famous stage
dancer, worked on Devdas (2002) and Desh Ishqiya. Poets
who wrote and performed for courtesan salons have also written for film as
lyricists and other film writing. The film industry derived a lot from the
courtesan ecology, Vanita noted, both personnel and
patronage, and hence, ideas and muses too.
Why do I say the sportsperson is the new performing
figure, who has replaced the courtesan? Consider the similarities. First, both
sport and courtesan cultures are corporeal; they require bodily labour. Second, they are both public, the work is
displayed. The verb ‘perform’ is utilized both for playing sport and any
musical or rhythm-based labour, including dance. These two elements, corporeality and publicness,
blur the distinction between dance and sport.
Many forms of martial art such as capoeira
(Brazil) and the kalaripayattu (India, Kerala)
combine elements of dance; in fact kalaripayattu
performances are held on stage in Kerala. The nomenclature itself is an
indication: the art in a martial activity underlines the choreographic element.
Note also the nature of skating and gymnastics (as well as gymnastics-like
traditional forms such as malkhamb in India); both are
summer Olympic sport event but are they not like dance performances too? An
amusing aside: the film Zubeida (2001) has a
cheeky sequence in this regard. The film is the story of an actor in early
Hindi cinema, played by the star Karisma Kapoor. The dance master for a film sequence she is
performing in exclaims that the choreography in Bombay cinema is no longer
graceful, but like PT (the term typically used for physical training classes in
Indian schools).
Third, both sport and courtesan culture involves a
guardian-like authority figure – the coach in sport and the nayika/madam
in courtesan-ship. Fourth, both sportsperson and courtesan are identities that
are utilized to tell a story about nationalism and citizenship. Finally, sport
and courtesanship are both sustained by patronage and
the Hindi film underlines this relationship.
The corporeal and choreographic nature of sport offer
rich aesthetics for the movie camera, much like dance. The moving camera savours dance, as is evident from the lavish sets laid out
for dance sequences such as ‘Pyaar kiya toh darna
kya’ in Mughal-e-Azam, the stage numbers in Guide, the mujras in Umrao Jaan and the dance sequences in Sanjay Leela Bhansali films to name only
the most spectacular.
In the sport film, the physical training montage has
emerged as a staple sequence showcasing the sculpted body of the athlete.
Often, this sequence is set to a song, underlining the dance metaphor. It was Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (2013) that likely began the montage focused on
the individual body, but the training sequence was present from Lagaan itself (Chale Chalo) and the necessity for a beautiful body was evident
in Aamir Khan baring his (noticeably slimmer) torso
through the film. In Mary Kom (2014), we see the individual sportswoman in focus
for the first time. Interestingly, the film’s producer is Sanjay Leela Bhansali, known for spectacular choreography and
a continued commitment to the song and dance form, increasingly unusual in Bollywood. Many characters in his films are courtesan,
courtesan-like or simply performers.
Then, the mentor-like figure. The nayika (madam) or the
head of the kotha/brothel in the courtesan film
is the coach in the sport film. This presence does two things. One, it
establishes that the nature of courtesan-ship and sportsmanship
is a way of life rather than simply a profession, a guru showing the path. And
second, it enables big stars who may not be physically
fit enough for the central role to be a part of the project. For instance, Amitabh Bachchan stars as the
coach of a slum football team in the anticipated film Jhund,
and Ajay Devgan in the forthcoming Maidan as the real life Indian football coach
Syed Abdul Rahman of the
Indian football team that reached the semi-finals of the 1956 Olympics. Most famously, Aamir
Khan and Shah Rukh Khan both played coaches in Dangal
and Chak de! India,
each the protagonist of the film, reflecting perhaps how crucial it is to have
a
male star in a mainstream film about women.
Both the courtesan and the sportsperson are figures
used to make an argument about citizenship and nationalism. For several decades
after the Bombay film industry began, the performing woman was the only
category of subcontinental woman with financial
independence and a public presence. Doctors, lawyers and other figures of
modernity did exist but were the exception. The performing woman facilitates
both the projection of a woman character as well as the opportunity to tell a
particular story about the new Indian nation – the courtesan or nautanki artist or performer marks tradition in India,
writes Vanita. Filmmakers are often empathic to the
courtesan figure. Sometimes, their stories are presented as empowering. Yet, Vanita rightly noted that the courtesan’s trope is
ultimately a cautionary tale used to tell the audience that a woman who has sex
for pleasure and a public life does not come to a happy end. In contrast to the
figure of the courtesan is the figure of the ‘bhadramahila’,
Iyer has posited in Dancing Women.
The bhadramihala or
new Indian woman is an important construction of the National Movement, the
scholar Partha Chatterjee
wrote in the essay, ‘Colonialism, Nationalism and Colonialized
Women’, who must preserve the values of Indian tradition while benefitting from
modern education and values in such a way that Indian men could flourish in the
modern world shaped by western values. This idealized figure of Indian
femininity was essential to preserve and mark the new Indian identity as
superior to the western identity. The ‘tawaif’ or
courtesan, Vanita noted, is a figure from pre-modern
India, a woman with independence and public presence but not the moral values
of the bhadramahila whom the new Indian nation laid
down as the ideal woman citizen. The bhadramahila,
although educated in the values of the public sphere, has a limited presence
here unlike the courtesan.
The distinction becomes clearer with an understanding
of how women lobbied for the vote in the National Movement. In Citizenship
and Its Discontents, political scientist Niraja Gopal Jayal writes that Congress
leaders in the National Movement, including women such as Sarojini
Naidu, held the ‘curiously’ bifurcated notion of separate spheres for men and
women. The private sphere of the home was seen as the domain of
responsibilities towards children and families – by implication that of women –
and the public sphere as the domain for the exercise of rights, which was that
of men.
Extending the vote to women was premised on the
understanding (presumably common to both men and women) that they would bring
the values of the private sphere – of care, responsibility and domesticity,
mothering and supporting good citizens –
to the public sphere ‘without in any way threatening men’s exercise of their
rights and civic duties.’ Note the words, ‘without in any way threatening’ the
patriarchal order. To me, this means women are expected to be supporting actors
in the public sphere, not lead actors articulating their own demands.
The sportsperson embodies an ideal citizen, who is
patriotic and labours for the nation’s public
achievement. This citizen, unlike the courtesan, can be man or woman and
represents a greater degree of modernity. Indeed, the figure of the
sportsperson is sometimes of minority identity – a Muslim or a tribal citizen –
and sports achievement is a means of proving their good citizenship.
Nationalism in the sports story is unambiguously marked with the tricolour fluttering, the national anthem playing and
various other national motifs used.
This brings me to the last point about patronage. The
courtesan performs for her clients whose payment sustains the kotha. This dynamic is clearly established by the
register of her performances that cater to their gazes, as well as
developments in the plot which reveal that clients hold power over her. This
client patronage is largely projected as problematic, a sign of her dependence
and her licentiousness.
For the sportsperson, the patron is the nation state,
symbolized by the tricolour and other national
motifs. This is an unambiguously pure, moral and venerable relationship – the
good citizen and the land that nurtures them. There is no exploitation, no
power play here, only love, commitment and the good modern value of
nationalism, calling for discipline, fraternityand
loyalty among citizens. The nation state offers patronage to both men and women
citizens, in return for discipline, loyalty and aspiration. The courtesan’s
story is a cautionary tale, the athlete’s story is one
of triumph.
I will end this essay
with a meme that was doing the rounds on social media during India’s 2021
campaign at the Tokyo Olympics where India won seven medals, the highest in her
history and came close to podium finishes in several events. This meme
comprised two images, one of the double Olympic medallist in badminton P.V. Sindhu
carrying a pan on her head and the other of the film star Kareena
Kapoor Khan lighting a cigarette. Above Sindhu’s image were the words, ‘Our role model’ and above Kapoor Khan’s, the words, ‘Their role model’.
It was that distinction between the immoral performing
woman (the courtesan figure) and the good woman citizen again, the one
articulated in the National Movement. But now, the bhadramahila
has been reimagined in a more public role. She is
still good, disciplined, educated but she has made her presence outside the
home in the public eye. She is now the athlete heroine.