I removed a few disruptive authors from the BP roster recently, primarily because some interactions had crossed into personal abuse. Thatâs not something Iâm willing to absorb or normalise.
What continues to surprise me is how quickly discussions become ideological flashpoints, even when my own approach has consistently been one of congeniality and openness.
That said, the overall atmosphere on the blog already feels lighter and more functional with fewer volatile personalities in the mix. Itâs a reminder that BP only works when the space is manageable and not dominated by ego or hostility.
Also to the current Commentariat; stick to the facts, not inflammation please. So reflect on whether your comment is adding more light or heat beforehand.
A very important interview with Ramanathan Kumar, former R&AW Pakistan desk head. Those Indians who truly want to understand the implications of the 27th Amendment to Pakistan’s Constitution must listen to this podcast.Â
In the latest edition of Frontline webinars, independent journalist Amit Baruah is in conversation with former R&AW Pakistan desk head Ramanathan Kumar. The two dissect the implications of Pakistanâs recently passed 27th Constitutional Amendmentâa sweeping overhaul that elevates army chief Asim Munir to a new âChief of Defence Forcesâ role, places all three armed services under his command, and grants him lifetime legal immunity. Passed by a two-thirds parliamentary majority, the amendment also restructures Pakistanâs judiciary: it removes the Supreme Courtâs power over constitutional matters and establishes a new Federal Constitutional Court whose judges will be appointed by the executive. Critics argue that these changes represent a dramatic consolidation of military power and a sharp erosion of judicial independence.
For India, this is not just about Pakistanâs internal politicsâit fundamentally reshapes the balance of power in the region. With a trigger-happy Field Marshal protected for life and commanding the entire military, Pakistanâs civil-military equilibrium could tilt decisively toward a more authoritarian and militarised state. Ramanathan Kumar and Amit Baruah explore how the amendment raises serious questions about democratic checks, legal accountability, and how India should recalibrate its approach to a new Pakistan.
Since “Recovering News Junkie” mentioned Heeramandi in his latest post, I am reproducing this review from my SubStack.  Regarding the specific criticism that that Heeramandi was a “Pakistani and not an Indian story”, I think the main issue people pointed out was that it is a-historical for a miniseries set in 1940s Lahore to not have a single character who supports the Muslim League or espouses the cause of Pakistan.  A secondary issue was that–despite the setting in Lahore– the courtesans were speaking the Urdu of Lucknow rather than Punjabi.Â
As a student of Hindustani classical music and someone fascinated by courtesan culture, I eagerly anticipated Sanjay Leela Bhansaliâs new miniseries Heeramandi (available to stream on Netflix starting May 1). Bhansali is known for directing opulent costume dramas such as Devdas (2002), Bajirao Mastani (2015) and Padmaavat (2018). In the tradition of these earlier films, Heeramandi boasts an all-star cast led by Manisha Koriala and Sonakshi Sinha. The costumes and production design are also noteworthy.
Set in Lahore in the twilight years of the British Raj, the series focuses on the lives of the tawaifs who live in the Heera Mandi neighborhood of the city. Also known as Shahi Mohalla (Royal Neighborhood), this area is located south of the Lahore Fort and was originally a residential neighborhood for attendants and servants of the royal court. It became particularly associated with the tawaifs, who received patronage from the nobility.
In todayâs Pakistan the word âtawaifâ has come to be associated with prostitution. However, the word originally denoted elite courtesans who were highly-skilled singers and dancers trained in the arts of poetry and conversation. Aristocrats would send their sons to tawaifs to be trained in manners and etiquette. These women were often wealthy and, because of their unmarried status, were able to move around freely. They were particularly known for their renditions of thumrisâa semi-classical genre of Hindustani music associated primarily with the emotional expression of romantic longing. However, their status was degraded with the advent of British colonialism because the British regarded them as ânautch girlsâ or prostitutes. The new Indian middle-class also came under the influence of Victorian morality and began to perceive their own musical traditions as decadent and immoral. This led to the Anti-Nautch Movement and to efforts by reformers such as Pandit Bhatkhande to cleanse Hindustani music of its disreputable associations. Continue reading Review: Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Heeramandi
So a new trailer for a hindi acshun phillum dropped recently, and its another one of those that throws around the ‘based on true events’ tag for additional street cred. This time around though, there’s a bit of a twist. The plot apparently centers around the Lyari Gang wars in Karachi, with some additional fictional tempering of course.
Unsurprisingly, this will elicit a whole gamut of reactions from either side of the Radcliffe line, especially due west. The preview is unusually long, and somewhat unsurprisingly filled with shocking violence – the recent success of movies like Kill and Animal were bound to result in a race to ever-increasingly levels of ‘ketchup’ and fireworks. But apart from that, at least to me, didn’t seem very novel or interesting. I am mildly curious about the world building that the movie manages to pull off.
Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Netflix series Heeramandi is another example of this phenomenon. Where the Indian movie industry is accused of ‘cultural appropriation’ and telling a story that is “Pakistani, and not Indian”. With that one, as much as I am… unimpressed with Bhansali’s output – I view him more as a choreographer, less of a filmmaker, one who is far more successful at spectacle, not so much with cinema – I still think that the stories of the subcontinent should be accessible to all. Lahore after all, especially pre-partition Lahore is as much a legacy of Ganga Ram as it is of the Mughal Empire, or the Sikh, for that matter.
This time around however, the setting isn’t historical or pre-partition. Is there an argument to be made that this is “cultural appropriation”?
For me, more than anything, its yet another missed opportunity. In an alternate timeline, a movie like this would have been a golden opportunity for Pakistani actors to get visibility on a much larger Indian stage, and the quality of the output could have been immeasurably raised with behind-the-scenes contributions – production design, location and language expertise, to name a few.
Somewhere down the line, if things finally start reverting to ‘normal’, perhaps future projects like these will incorporate Pakistani participation and be better for it.
10 years ago a few collaborators and I set out to make a film about the Lyari gangsters and drug mafia, couldnât raise a Rs locally because a film 80% in Balochi wonât sell, approached Netflix who said Pakistani content not needed, the Twitter page is from 10 years ago too pic.twitter.com/p6LeyyFUEO
It is wrong to dehumanise anyone. One of the recurring issues on BP is this histrionic insistence that individuals âownâ the truth. The truth is broad, multi-layered, and something we all approach imperfectly. No single person has a monopoly on it.
I obviously reject racism in every form; that should go without saying. But I also find it nonsensical to claim that it is a moral imperative to call a racist âsub-human.â That is a classic moral slippery slope. Once you begin dehumanising others, even for views you find repugnant, you simply replicate the logic you oppose.
What Iâve noticed recently is that people are increasingly confusing ego with ideology. That never ends well. This is a blog. Nothing here is existential. We should be able to disagree fiercely without crossing into territory that strips others of their humanity.
I’ll add more interesting links; I have more of a zero-tolerance approach so low-signal, overwrought comments will either be deleted, edited or their author’s privileges revoked.
Everyone please behave. I have restored all deleted comments (I haven’t read them).
I’ve also realised that the Commentariat are actually manifestly ungrateful.
I expect everyone to adhere to civility; if I don’t like the tone of a comment, I will simply trash it. This is a no-nonsense policy that applies to ALL.
Also to all authors, contributors and editors please make sure you are above board; don’t descend into the pettiness.
Thirty years ago, Saeed Akhtar Mirza made his final feature film, Naseem, about an aging Urdu poet, played by Kaifi Azmi, and set in the days preceding the demolition of the Babri Masjid. The film opened with a title card which said, âThat one act of demolition wrote the epitaph of an age that has passed, perhaps never to return!â â The Babri Masjid epitomized the final collapse, you know, of an idea of India, of a sovereign, secular, democratic republic, equal for all, equality and justice. You saw it collapse in front of your eyes.â He said. âI was in despair but I was also angry when I made the film,â Mirza said in a podcast conversation with Sidharth Bhatia. He has not made any feature film since, though he still makes documentaries and has written two books. Mirza spoke about how the âHindu-Muslim binary was stupidâ and said that those who promoted it hadnât read any history. Their idea of history is âfundamentally flawedâ he said.
Note: Whoever keeps deleting this post must know that I will keep re-posting it.  Non-interference in other people’s threads is a sacred principle on BP.Â
In this episode of Saffron Siege, the anthropologist Thomas Blom Hansen and journalist Qurban Ali join Harsh Mander to examine how the RSS has triggered, enabled and executed riots, targeted communal attacks and other forms of communal violence in India over the 100 years of its existence. Qurban Ali who has reported on many of these incidents on the ground documents how many commissions have found the RSS culpable in riots dating back to Sholapur in 1967. Hansen talks about how violence is a central thesis of the RSS not only as a physical act but as a state of mind.
