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.

At five in the Afternoon

At Five in the Afternoon
Directed by Samira Makhmalbaf

At five in the Afternoon
And the bull alone with a
High heart!
At five in the afternoon.
When the sweat of the snow
Was coming
At five in the afternoon
When the bull ring was
Covered in iodine
At five in the afternoon.
At five in the afternoon.
Exactly at five o clock in
The afternoon.
--- from Cogida and Death, by Federico Garcia Lorca
These were the exact words which appear as subtitles, while on the screen we see fast stretches of dull yellow sand and a blue burkha slowly appearing from nowhere. At the background of course Lorca’s poem being recited in a hushed whispering tone. This sets the morbid, hopeless tone of the movie. The sorrowful Lorca poem is about a bullfight and signifies gradual physical and moral degeneration. Throughout the movie that is exactly what Samira wanted to portray about the lives in post war Afghanistan, even without the Taliban regime.
Slowly the blue burkha takes the shape of a girl trudging her way amidst the sands balancing heavy pictures of water on her shoulders. It is evident that Nogreh had travelled miles to fetch these two pails of water. Just through the opening scene, Samira sets the morbid mood of the movie. The girls face bears no expression, as if such hardships are a part of her daily routine. Nogreh the protagonist, a 21 year young Afghan girl is one of the many girls struggling for survival in Afghanistan post Taliban regime.
Nogreh has learnt to take struggle in her stride. Nogreh’s father is a follower of stringent Islamic rule, who finds viewing women’s face would send him to hell. He makes a living driving a horse cart. He is against Nogreh’s wish to study in a school. However Nogreh is ambitious. She slips out of the seminary her father believes her to be attending to a school. The little distance from the seminary by-lanes to the school, Nogreh puts on high heels (banned in the Taliban regime) and clatters along the way to attend her class. In the school, Nogreh dreams of becoming the president of Afghanistan. School as in other movies by Samira viz. Blackboard or Apple is a democratic place. Girls are here allowed to speak their own mind. Therefore, on an impromptu speech when asked why Nogreh wants to become the president, she delves into her limited knowledge and gathers enough substance from her surroundings, to express her desire to improve the conditions of the women in Afghanistan. She says that at least she would make sure that there are schools for girls to study, and a 21 year old never needs to attend class with a 12 year old girl. Even the other girls in her school are equally courageous in openly discussing their views. 12 year old Mina who had lost her parents in the Taliban oppression, wants to become a president to make sure that no such atrocity ever occur to children.
However Nogreh’s life is full of struggles. Nogreh, her sister-in-law, her sick infant and Nogreh’s father are frantically in search of a place to stay. The bombed ghostly buildings, the broken aircraft hatchets, everywhere they find an abode, they are displaced by a larger crowd of migrant refugees from Pakistan and other places. Nogreh’s brother a truck driver is missing. The never-ending trail of refugees crowding the left-over buildings and shafts, makes water and food scarce. Amidst all these Nogreh still dreams of becoming the president. Slowly coming out of the cluster of bans and prohibitions Nogreh befriends a refugee young boy, who encourages her to pursue her dreams. For her school elections, Nogreh gets her photographs and practices her speech, on her white high-heels. Nogreh gets eager to know about the women politicians of her neighbouring countries. She wants to know about Benazir Bhutto from the refugees arriving from Pakistan. Even the French soldier of the retreating troupe seems to be oblivious of the political happenings around, which baffles Nogreh. She never expected the foreign militia, the apparent peace-keepers of her country to live in such abject political ignorance.
However it seems there is no hope for her. Inspite of her courage of defying norms, her destiny slowly pushes her towards hopelessness. Once again displaced from their make-shift abode, Nogreh with her family travels the cold, rugged, barren mountainous terrains of Afghanistan. Nogreh and her likes despite their sheer optimism still cannot defy the ill-fate of her country. To save her nephew from cold, her father burns down his horse carriage-a ghastly wooden skeleton. However the child dies. A sense of despair settles upon them. It seems that hope is like a mirage in this land torn with years of war and oppression.
The poem is recited slowly with deep struggled breaths as if to pronounce the slow decay that has set upon the country. A girl’s dream about a career is a complete absurd thought, where living through another day is the biggest struggle.
The movie has stunning visuals with blue veiled girls with blue parasols amidst the vast yellow stretches of sand. It seemed that after years of lives within the closed corridors, the women of Afghanistan are finally out in search of hope, if not life, but tragically this weary country is too feeble to offer even that.
Mohsen Makhmalbaf’s Kandahar had shown Afghanistan under the Taliban regime and the desperate attempts of the girl to hold close the strains of hope from disappearing to survive. Post Taliban, we find, in the same land, a girl relinquishing her hopes again to survive.