We Artists are Compromised, Says Nawazuddin Siddiqui on Padmavati

The Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC) has reportedly invited the royal family of Mewar to help them certify Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Padmavati which was supposed to get a CBFC certificate on 19 December, paving the way for the film’s much awaited release. The Deepika Padukone-starrer has been in the throes of controversy for a few months now.

From erstwhile royals like Diya Kumari Singh of Jaipur to caste organisations like Shri Rajput Karni Sena, a lot of people have vowed to keep the film out of the theatres, alleging that it portrays the Rajputs in uncharitable colours. Threats and acts of violence have dotted the protests against the film.

According to an IANS report on 21 December, the CBFC is likely to appoint a panel of historians to scrutinise the film for authenticity.

Nawazuddin Siddiqui’s response to this is steeped in common sense, laced with caution:

We should watch the film first and then react. Yes, nobody’s sentiments should get hurt but we must allow the movie to release in the theatres.

Vicious Circle of Mediocrity

Siddiqui laments that continued threats and protests against art and artists will engender the norm of seeking permission from everyone before any production. However, he does not spare the industry its share of the blame.

We are a compromised lot. We compromise on many things and this is why we are mediocre.

This mediocrity, in turns, breeds cowardice. Even those with a fighting spirit are likely to give up after a while. “If I’m surrounded with mediocrity, there’s only that much I can do. I’ll fight for some time but eventually drop my weapon and surrender,” he says.

This certainly is a disheartening statement from the actor playing the role of Sadat Hasan Manto, the revolutionary Urdu writer who kept at his job of highlighting the violence and inhumanity around him despite protests and even lawsuits.

Can Art Afford Cowardice?

At the Jashn-e-Rekhta, India’s largest Urdu festival, in New Delhi, Siddiqui had sung paeans on Manto’s courage and commitment.

However, when one assesses the vitriol and violence faced by the artists from hardliners this is a pragmatic line of thought. While violence on or off screen does not affect Siddiqui, violent characters he has played in his films certainly do. Raman from Raman Raghav killed people casually, in cold blood. He did not need the alibi of religion or humanity for his deeds.

I’m not like Raman. To believe in his philosophy of violence was difficult and it affected me very deeply. 

Nawazuddin Siddiqui

What worked as an antidote later was his biwi ki daant (his wife’s chiding), he confides.