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How do you create division among people? Etch a line with the tip of your shoe in the dust between them and give them opposite sides to belong to. The rift may not be immediate but gradually across time there will be category and classification. There will be further division, conflicting systems of belief and later, fanaticism and dogma. Before long the dust line you drew will be blown away by winds but it doesn’t matter, they will probably have barbed wire walls up by then. All history and past will begin at the moment the line was etched. What existed before that is to be disregarded or is in the context of science. Few will talk of unity and a past where all was one. The tragedy of it will be that there will be no one to hear them out, to share the vision of peace. Invisible borders turn identity, etch into hearts and minds and egos and the history and past taught and remembered will smart with too many scars and wounds to ever be reconciled with. It is a bit sad that when one talks of belonging one refers to latitudes and longitudes and jaggedly drawn notions of town and country and continent and not to a bigger more beautiful seamless picture. Philip K Dick had it right when he concluded, “The lights went out on earth.”

When ‘Khuda Kay Liye’ released this past weekend it came mired in statistics and identity. A Pakistani hit film about Muslim extremism starring Naseeruddin Shah was the general short-hand. Absolute shame when it concerns an evocative film that offers no conceit to identity of any kind except that of humanity. It’s cast in the simplest of our cinematic traditions- the family saga, conflict among brothers and even the trials of an expatriate trying to get his daughter married. But ‘Khuda Kay Liye’ uses this familiar epic format to negotiate urgent contemporary and global issues of religious identity, extremism, ghettoizing, xenophobia, gender politics while being an impassioned plea for peace and tolerance. Writer-Director Shoaib Mansoor does not harbor illusions of an overnight return to utopia and never once after the title credits roll against the limitless expanse of the sky does he insist that all borders must disappear, his is a call for common sense, debate and for religion and identity to be tempered with compassion.

The movie first takes a floundering ten minutes to find its rhythm. It is set over three continents, has dialogues in just as many languages, the subject is volatile and debutant director Mansoor has trouble in getting his briskly paced three hour epic going. It is a tad slipshod but we learn of Hussain, a Pak expatriate and long time resident of UK currently in a live-in relationship with a white woman but who has strong qualms about his daughter Maryam’s relationship with a white man. In Lahore, Pakistan we witness a New Year celebration rehearsal being vandalized by extremists. Later during a television program in which the two musicians present at the vandalized rehearsals are being introduced we learn that they are brothers and Hussain who watches the program from London identifies them as his nephews. He asks Maryam to accompany him to Lahore to meet a part of his family she has never seen but it is clear he has other more ulterior motives in mind. Up till here the narrative is workman-like and the production values resemble that of national television. All that changes when younger brother Sarmad in throes of religious disillusion regarding the ‘Islamicness’ of his music consults a fundamentalist maulana at the mosque.

The frames acquire a dusty brown tint not unlike the Mexico scenes in ‘Traffic’, the soundtrack begins to strum and Maulana Tehri spouts fundamentalism with ardor and cunning as he attempts to wean Sarmad towards extremism. The movie enters into dialogue with the rhetoric of religious propaganda as it splices Sarmad at the mosque with the maulana with him at his home as older brother Mansoor tries to refute the maulana’s assertions. It is tricky ground like it was evident in last year’s Dhoka. As a fumbling liberal Muzammil Ibrahim tried to engage in debate with the sheer presence of extremist Manish Makhija it was clearly fundamentalism that won the day. Here Director Mansoor employs well-written clear-headed dialogue and doesn’t play off Mansoor and the maulana in the same scene and avoids a direct clash. Sarmad’s disillusion also helps temper the sequence and keep it from jingoism. Also the presence of the parents and the grandma, brief but finely etched characters add further dimension. The parents are rich upper-class self-confessed liberals. As Sarmad sinks deeper into the quagmire of radical religion his father opts for silence convinced that any intervention would only provoke him further. Even when Sarmad stops playing music, removes all the paintings and insists on his mother wearing a hijab the father only admonishes him by saying that no one in the house is to be forced into anything. The grandmother however is a whole other deal. An orthodox religious woman she is only happy to see Sarmad change. There is an almost gothic twisted sensation as we watch her patting Sarmad on his head in love.

Meanwhile Hussain arrives in Lahore with Maryam with plans of getting her married to Mansoor. When declined, he sees opportunity in Sarmad who is also goaded into the marriage by the maulana in the name of religion. Whisking Maryam away to a remote village in the middle of a barren nowhere between Pakistan and Afghanistan they get her forcefully married. Here with a brilliantly observed dialogue and sharp black comedy Director Mansoor establishes the utter depravity of Maryam’s condition and Hussain‘s mercenary insensitivity. When asked by Sarmad to stay on for a day or two more, he replies that he has to leave to get back and also that he can’t seem to adjust to the toilet.

Maryam’s saga is not a clichéd portrayal of anguish angling for sympathy. Rather inspite of the injustices meted out to her she finds in the situation an aspect of learning. A city bred expatriate she gradually mingles with the other women of the house and begins to understand what life means, especially for women in remote places like these. Her rebellion is continuous and affirming. When an escape fails, she returns and tries to teach the other woman to read and write. When thwarted in that attempt she engages in yet another rebellion. The inroads are slow to reveal themselves but her stubborn perseverance is inspiring.

Older brother Mansoor meanwhile has left Pakistan for America where he has enrolled in a school of music. He’s living it up, having a good time in college and strikes a relationship with a fellow Amrican student Janie whom he later intends to marry. There is a Capra-esque moment in college when Mansoor’s tune is given an impromptu orchestra by his fellow students. Each student seems to be a cliché of the part of the world he or she belongs to. And for a moment all borders are suspended.

And then, 9/11 happens.

Even for a rich liberal un-religious person like Mansoor, America sees his religion as his only identity. With the world around him turning increasingly xenophobic and paranoid Mansoor soon finds himself whisked away at night to an Abu Gharib-ish torture cell where amidst squalor, violence and mental oppression orchestrated by American security officials he finds his composure and sanity slipping. It is here that Director Shohaib Mansoor bares his fangs. He is vehement in his critique of the senseless cruelty perpetrated on Muslims that followed 9/11. His portrayal of the investigating Americans is like that espoused by Gary Farmer in Jim Jarmusch’s Ghost Dog- ‘stupid fucking white man’. Even as frustration and claustrophobia overwhelm Mansoor, the Americans on account of misplaced patriotism and righteousness, Islamophobia, idiocy and a fanaticism that rivals the jehadis, show no sign of backing down. He rebels only to find himself deeper in their clutches.

For Sarmad, 9/11 is a call to the battlefront where faced with senseless slaughtering of Musilm by Muslim he finally comes face-to-face with the brutal consequences of his folly. He returns home to Lahore with Maryam but becomes embroiled in a court-case regarding the future and faith of their child. And in the manner of the grand debates in the cinematic tradition, all points of view and characters are poised for answers and catharsis in the court of law.

Naseeruddin Shah appears in a pivotal cameo of Maulana Wali representing the slumbering intelligentsia of Pakistan. He would just as much never have participated in the case if not for Maryam’s emotional plea but as he steps into the witness box he swaggers with wit and wisdom. The movie abandons all subtlety without skipping a beat and undertones and conflicts are put in fervent dialogues bounced in between fundamentals and liberals. It risks being preachy but Director Mansoor is keen about the film being a message film and senses that the courtroom trappings are about as ripe as it gets and spins an entertaining yet incisive round of debate and rationale.

At the end of so much debate, he ends the court proceedings on an emotional and subtle note, with Sarmad’s catharsis. It’s a most powerful scene. Borders give away. And the final conceit of the movie- that between extremism and liberalism- blurs into an evoking of tolerance. It finds common ground. All in the name of God. One God for all who believe and love for all.

For all the patchy production values, tonal inconsistency and sometimes rigid technique, the performances play a large role in making the movie as effective as it is. Fawad Khan as Sarmad gives an anchoring performance of quiet brooding intensity emoting effortlessly but with great depth while Shan as Mansoor has a role that moves on in a lighter vein until the post 9/11 sequences where he essays a palpable frustration and anger and makes us root for him. The striking Iman Ali as Maryam slips on the Brit accent but as a woman trapped yet defiant she hits the right notes. Rasheed Naaz as Maulana Taheri, gives in a serpentine turn as grand as an Amrish Puri while Naseeruddin Shah is pure swaggering theatre thespian in his memorable cameo. Hameed Sheikh as Sarmad’s companion and confidant Sher Shah also puts in a gritty yet humane turn.

Another important aspect of ‘Khuda Ke Liye’ is the music. Director Mansoor not only seems to have an ear for the tunes but a keen sensibility for representing them on screen. The fever dream chase sequence to the soundtrack pulsing ‘Allah Allah’ is absolute genius. The aspect of music is internalized into subtext as it becomes a running metaphor throughout the film whether it is Maulana Taheri trying to instigate Sarmad into extremism or Mansoor and Janie bonding and falling in love or Maulana Wali’s quoting from the holy text about music being the gift and elixir of the Gods. (Further honors.. Tushar?)

What Director Mansoor lacks in chic he makes up with content and heart. Not even the most peripheral character is obligatory. Whether a character is a liberal or a extremist, he chronicles both in their most humane and private moments, in stray conversations. In no way does a characters political and religious beliefs define the character in it’s entirety. In a way it is in those quieter moments that one is convinced there is hope and that divides may yet be forgotten.

The final scene reverberates with prayer. There are two voices singing- one a loud coarse voice who is praying for divides and retributions and the other, a softer more melodious singing for harmony and serenity. As important as it is for prayers of peace to be sung it is just as important for it to be listened to and understood. Whatever the oppression neither can give up. Can’t afford to. It may turn out to be the breeze that blows away the divide in the dust. The barb wire I guess, will need something stronger.

(poster by supersizeme, miniature paintings by sgaindia, sufiart, sufischool, nurmuhammud pakistaniant, album cover by gamezman, soundtrack by radioblogclub)