The first Bollywood LGBT+ film I ever saw and the absolute pandemonium it wreaked in my head.
Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga (How I Felt When I Saw That Girl) tells the story of the emotionally isolated Sweety Chaudhary who struggles to reconcile her sexuality with the pressures of her traditionally heteronormative society. Despite the rather morose description, this film is, at heart, a romantic comedy with a wholesome and overall happy ending. However, it also manages to comment on a range of topics such as the pressure of patriarchal families, both on men and women, and the disdain for the “western influence” in India. Directed by Shelly Chopra Dhar, it has been described by critics as an “earnest, unapologetic depiction of the act of coming out in a conservative society” (Saibal Chatterjee) and its effect on the Indian population of the LGBT+ community has been profound. As a bisexual woman from an Indian family, the film hits harder than any of the plethora of LGBT+ films that focused on predominantly white, middle class gay men.
This film hits a very personal note for me. Growing up, I was taught to believe in the inevitability that one day, I was going to be married to a man and be a housewife. It was my mother’s comeback to all the misdemeanours 7-year-old Amandeep decided to get into – “you’re going to need to stop this if you ever want a husband” and all that. Of course, I always dismissed it since 7-year-old Amandeep wouldn’t touch boys with a 50-foot pole because…ew. But it showed me from a very young age what my family expected of me. So, the opening scene hits uncomfortably close to home when a well-meaning uncle has a conversation with Sweety and her father Balbir in which Balbir gushes about his daughter being the top student of her class in university, but then is asked by the uncle if he is now going to find her a husband. It feels personal, not because I’m the top of my class in university (god, I don’t even know most people in my class), but because education seems to, once again, be second to settling down and having a family.
Sweety’s self-imposed isolation, her hesitancy when Kuhu seems to flirt with her, the hoops she has to jump through just to go on a date with her lady love…it all feels very familiar. The worst-case scenario that her family could think of is that she could marry a Muslim man, they don’t even consider that she could be a lesbian. It’s almost insulting and definitely ridiculous how homosexuality is just not even considered a possibility. It’s at this moment I would like to emphasise that not all Indian families are like this. Just like with any culture or religion, there are families that will accept their children with open arms and unconditional support and there will be families that won’t, and there are some families in which you won’t know where you stand because it’s not even considered a possibility. However, through Sweety’s journey, her family seems to go through all three of these. At first, homosexuality isn’t a possibility, but when Sweety’s brother outs her, her family seems to reject in a harrowing scene that ends with her crying on the floor surrounded by her friends and Kuhu, but finally her father accepts her in the climax of the film which portrays Sweety through the stages of her life in a glass box crying for her father’s help.
The plot of the film is a bit convoluted, in all honesty, as the case with all Bollywood films (it’s what makes them good!). It begins with a wedding at which Sweety and Kuhu meet during a run-of-the-mill opening Bollywood number that lasts about 15 minutes. The next time we see Sweety is when she gatecrashes a god-awful play written by Sahil, a struggling playwright trying to reach out of his bigshot director father’s shadow. Sahil is then literally dragged into Sweety’s life when Baloo, her brother, follows her after having chased her through Dehli. Sahil seems to instantly fall in love with her and thinks she feels the same and so follows her to her small village of Moga. After a couple of heterosexual mishaps, he finally clicks on. Now, at this point of the film, anxiety started to spike. What is he going to do? Was he going to get mad and out her out of resentment? But Sahil takes it in his stride and after listening to Sweety talk about her life of isolation and sadness, he becomes a fast friend and ally. He decides to showcase her story as a play, hoping that it’ll sway her family and her village towards a more progressive way of thinking. At the same time, his assistant Chatro begins a sweet romance with Balbir, opening his eyes to a non-traditional way of life. The main conflict comes when Baloo discovers his plan and outs her to her family and she is abandoned, only to be surrounded by Kuhu, Sahil and Chatro. As the play goes on, Balbir discovers Sweety’s diaries, tearing up at the words, finally understanding how lonely his daughter has truly been her entire life. As aforementioned, her father’s true acceptance comes when he storms into the play to see his daughter in a glass box, begging to be let out. The next scene depicts Sweety and Kuhu being threatened by a mob of traditionalists villagers which overwhelms Balbir, who runs up on stage, screaming at the audience and the actors. The first time I heard the line “Sweety, I would give my life for your happiness” the tears that had been in my eyes since I saw Sweety in that glass box finally spilled over which was immediately followed by laughter at the line “I thought you took after your mother but you’re just like me. You see, I like women too!”. The family gets a happy ending, bar Baloo. Sweety receives acceptance from her father and grandmother, Balbir decides to pursue Chatro and his dream of being a chef and Sahil’s play becomes a hit and he receives the approval of his father. He decides to take it to small villages, on Sweety’s request, in order to give the Sweetys of the world hope.
[Photo Source: Screenshot / Fox Star Studios]
I told you it was convoluted.
The comedy touched me differently than white films. Lines that had me giggling such as “Dad, get her married quickly!” to which Balbir responds “To what? A tree?” and Balbir’s attempt to speak Urdu to Sahil being responded to with a “I didn’t carry my dictionary today” had my white friend sitting next to me less entertained. He didn’t understand the comedy of the grandmother having different Indian actors as her social media passwords and that all Indian households seem to have Those Pillowcases (anyone living in an Indian household knows which ones I’m talking about). But to me, it was hilarious, which just adds to how personal the film felt to me.
The film is predominantly centred around Sweety’s story and the effect a patriarchal society has on women, but that doesn’t mean it discounts the effect this same society has on its men. Balbir himself is portrayed as a victim, having his dreams of being a world class chef dashed by his mother, who considered cooking to be a feminine job as shown by her concern that him evening watching a cooking channel will “turn [him] into a woman”. Sahil’s wish to pursue a creative career in playwriting is looked down upon by his father who considers acting to be a better alternative. Only with the help of the women are they able to break free. Chatro opens Balbir’s eyes to his narrow-mindedness and incites his enthusiasm for cooking again, the film ending in their partnership as restaurateurs. Sweety’s story helps Sahil realise the only way he can make an impact is to write real stories about real people. Men and women lift each other up, showing that progress comes only when there is equality. The love and respect the characters find in each other helps empower them to achieve their goals and dreams.
The film highlights a fear of “westernisation” which is so deeply rooted into the culture in small Indian villages, I don’t even have a joke for it. It’s almost ironic, considering Hinduism itself doesn’t seem to have any substantial reason to discriminate based on sexuality. Homophobia in India seems to stem from “attitudes imported from conquering nations, such as the British Empire” (wow, thanks again, colonialism!). Actually, if we take a closer look at the stance Hinduism takes on sexual orientation and same-sex marriage, we’ll see that, while same-sex marriage is frowned upon in accordance to the Dharma Shastras, it’s important to remember that these are only guides for which there is miles of space for interpretation. I would also like to bring to attention this particular quote from the Human Rights Campaign website which, highlights that, while non-procreative sex is discouraged for holy men, gender and sexuality is fluid due to the belief of rebirth;
All in all, the film is funny but serious, honest but convoluted, sweet but harsh. A very human look into the life of one woman trying to live her life the way she chooses. In conclusion, suffer the subtitles and watch the film on Netflix (if you want to, of course. I’m not going to like, force you but the 5-minute scene in which Balbir accepts his daughter will make you sob.)
By Amandeep Paul.
(she/her)
IG: xx.amandeep
Amandeep is a TV. Film & Entertainment writer @ PARDON! read more about her on our TEAM! page.