Last Queen of the earth

Last Queen of the Earth
Directed by M.H Arab
Years ago, I had read “Kabuliwalah” by Rabindranath Tagore. It was the story of Rahmat, an Afghan peddler, like so many others in the city of Calcutta, who have come to trade dry fruits and other things. The stranger in the city Rahmat, found his soul-mate in a 5 year old little girl Mini. Mini reminded Rahmat of his own little girl, whom he had left alone in Kabul in Afghanistan. That was in fact my first encountered in literature about this land called Afghanistan. Tagore there through Mini’s fathers eyes imagined Rahmat’s daughter to be like Parvati (another name for Goddess Durga-being the daughter of Parvatraj Himalaya) staying alone abode the mountainous Afghanistan awaiting her father’s return. Reading about this geography Afghanistan made my imaginative mind wander far away. I used to imagine a land amidst rugged mountains, long bearded Afghan men, green eyed Afghan girls with their flowing robes and long tresses. And I would think of a small girl of my age, waiting in those rough rugged mountainous terrains for her father to return with toys. Even at that age, I could understand how Rahmat would have longed to be with his little daughter. How difficult it must be to be a migrant worker staying miles away from home, staying in those claustrophobic ghettos, only with the dream of making the lives of those left at home better with the remittance money sent back.
Of course these were years before 9/11 happened. Of course before 9/11, Afghanistan was a more common name to me. Thanks to the daily news of Kalashnikov armed Taliban destruction, the bombing of the Bamian Buddhas, daily termination of several men, women and children by the Taliban fanatics. The romanticism of rugged mountains, green eyes, vast stretches of sands, blue mosques, Afghan men, their hoarse voices and their rough sports of bird hunting, all seemed to me as a distant dream. Still often if my eye caught a “Kabuliwalah” in the grim narrow by-lanes of Calcutta streets, I could not help but wonder about their families left behind, their fate.
Arab’s Last Queen of the Earth brought back those feelings vividly to me. However this Afghanistan is different. War raged by U.S looming over it. Years of oppression by the Taliban fundamentalists has already made it weary. Migrant refugees in nearby Tehran, Pakistan increasing. Hence Rahmat and his like also increasing in the nearby bordering countries. Such a person is Ali Baksh. Ali Baksh works in a small Henna factory in Tehran. Compelled to work far away from home, Ali Baksh, so long had contented him thinking that at least his distance would yield a better future for the impoverished family. However now, with the U.S invasions over Afghanistan, Ali Baksh could not resist but set on an arduous journey to Mazar Sharif, his native in Afghanistan. We find, people like Ali-Baksh, also migrant workers around him. They were afraid in the lonely city and hence tend to cling on to each other for support. Hence we find, one such fellow Afghan, hoarding and hiding Ali Baksh’s letter from home, lest that would claim Ali Baksh away from him. These people, the fellow Afghans have curbed a pseudo home out of their homes with their friends, folk songs after work, during dinner and fragments of hope of still going back one day. We find the same issue, almost in the same way portrayed in Majidi’s Baran, amidst a construction site. In both the places we find that amidst the dusty factory floors, the dingy dark walls, these people have tried to keep Afghanistan alive through songs, music and musings.
Ali Baksh is desperate to reach out to his wife Shah-Gol. His entire journey amidst immense penury and risk through war torn Afghanistan, reminded me of the passion and longings these people feel for their families staying miles away. Throughout the visuals were stunning sometimes showing the dried barren earth juxtaposed against the blue-green Hindukush ranges all around, creating a penchant for a lost civilization. The bombed after=remains of small villages, crippled inhabitants, all created a paranoia on-screen. The search of Ali-Baksh for Shah-gol was almost a search to get back the Afghanistan he left behind. Amidst the by-lanes of the crowded markets, the facades of the beautiful blue mosque at Mazar Sharif, the cooing milk-white pigeons, nothing could give him a sense of comfort. He was frantically searching for his wife. In Kandahar, we have seen Nafas, too equally eager to reach Kandahar to save her sister. He race against time was to stop her sister falling prey to complete hopelessness. Here Ali Baksh wanted to come out of this hopelessness. He wanted to get back his Afghanistan through Shah-Gol.
The movie ends in Ali-Baksh finally being able to save Shah-Gol.Thsi movie does not have the skill or finesse of a poetic ending. It also has the loop-holes of commercial elements. Iranian prohibition adds to some funny moment in the movie, where instead of fight between three men, we see three bells clanging hard with each other.
However, it brings forth once again the same plight of Afghan migrants and their miseries away as well as within home. And one thing, the optimistic ending, once again, brought into my memory the little girl awaiting the return of her father is a rugged mountainous terrain—only this time, I am hopeful that the return would not take long.