POPCORN REVIEWSS

Written by Rohan Kanawade, the emotional core of Sabar Bonda lies in the dynamic between Anand and Balya (Suraaj Suman), a 30-something farmer himself who is illiteral, doesn’t have a farm of his own and leads a quiet little life of solitude. This automatically forms a common ground for the duo – one that may not always be accepted by people around them, but a pure dynamic of companionship riddled with love that finds them at an unexpected juncture in life. Both Anand and Balya used to be childhood friends, another form of commonality that rekindles the spark in the duo, even as the drama accounts for tender moments between them – Balya casually caresses Anand’s hair while inquiring about them greying, or Anand pretending that he has forgotten about Balya’s brown eyes while staring that them.

The mood of the drama is sombre even as the writer chooses to establish the relationship of the two protagonists, as opposed to serving a conventional narrative laced with violence. In any other world, you would expect a mob of conventional fundamentalists lynching the queer couple, or atleast torturing them. But instead, what you get is a subdued romance between the duo – one that is built on glances or gentle touches whilst alone, or masking moments of intimacy with guy banter, even as you witness Anand casually looking at Balya bathing while in the presence of the latter’s mother, or Balya bringing food for Anand, the same way Anand’s literate father had fallen for his uneducated mother, just because she cooked good food. It is a basic need wherein the blossoming romance acts as a food for the souls of the two protagonists.

You can sense the reluctance of Anand at the start, almost fearing to ride a mororcycle or going for a swim in the river. These aren’t fleeting incidents but a sneak into the psyche of Anand who has been living in a state of fear or uncertainty all along! On the other hand, Balya is a character that is initially reduced to the background, almost for you to imagine him to be an incel who would be a part of the larger mob coming for Anand. But the proceedings organically bring him into the picture, gently coaxing Anand to have a swim with him, or in a scene ride a motorcycle too. In a way, Balya acts as a catalyst for Anand – his better half – who brings Anand out his shell. In a scene, you see Anand smiling at, and eventually peeling a cactus pear that was brought to him by Balya. The metaphor in it remained the fruit without its thorns – just like the fruitful relationship of Anand and Balya.

In moments of intimacy, you just see the two of them in the frame almost as if no one is watching, or an ideal world of fantasy wherein their relationship would seem normal to the people. In fact, this trait extends to the odd behavioral patterns of the people of the village, who seemingly are aware of the identity of Anand (or even Balya) but aren’t necessarily vocal about it. The fleeting moments include a character discouraging Anand from stepping out with Balya bare-footed (that was originally a part of the ten-day ritual of the funeral), given how his feet would burn in the sun. Elsewhere, a character remarks on visiting a ‘doctor’ if there is any issue with Anand. In another scene wherein Balya flirts with the idea of shifting to Mumbai with Anand, you see a character uttering on how uncomfortable it would be for three people to stay in a small dingy place in the big city. It is as if no one wishes to spell out ‘homos*xuality’ thereby vilifying themselves, in a place wherein female infanticide has been a norm over the years – most boys aren’t married because there aren’t enough girls in the region – as admitted by Balya in one scene.

One of the interesting characters in the mix remains Suman (Jayshri Jagtap), Anand’s mother who is aware about her son’s identity, although she doesn’t fully accept or reject the idea of her son being gay. When people around her repeatedly ask her about her son’s marriage prospects, her replies are simple – Anand has been heartbroken due to his previous relationship not working out (which was true with the exception of a gender reversal), or even citing that he is an adult and could take decisions for himself. In a way, Suman is the protector of the family, being empathetic towards her son and bottling feeling within her, so much so that you see her crying only wherein she is in the company of others. Even when Anand flirts with the idea of having Balya stay with them in Mumbai, she takes a step back and asks Anand to continue his trip to the city with his ‘special friend’ while she stays back with her parents for a few days.

It is ironic on how Suman remains the illiterate one despite not being dismissive about her son’s identity. It is contrary to certain literate folks who would look down upon Anand and his identity of being a homos*xual. And much of this trait, would have rubbed off from her marriage with Anand’s father who was also aware of his son’s identity. Hence, she continues to be a quiet spectator in the blossoming relationship between Anand and Balya – even when the latter brings him fruit, or casually wishes to talk to her in order to win her over. The same is true for Anand who looks to win over Balya’s parents, even while confiding in Balya on how he imagines romance to be more with regards to running around trees, even while sharing his earphone with Balya and listening to the songs of Sairat (2016).

The final act of Sabar Bonda plays out similar to that of All We Imagine As Light, with the setting being an anti-thesis of it. It is all about longing and realisation that forms an important crux of change for Anand, while wishing to live in a fantasy world with his beloved Balya (and for Balya, it is also about aspiration of living in a more accepting society). And hence, the decision to move from an open setting (his village) to a more compact setting (Mumbai) – an exact opposite of All We Imagine As Light – was his idea of intimacy, wherein his compact room in the city would bring them closer to each other. It is a far swing with respect to the future, given how the drama establishes the early degrees of love between the couple – but it is fantasy on many levels, that doubles up as a level of hope – hope that one day people would be more accepting about their relationship, and hope that both of them could return to their roots without an iota of fear. And with a hope that there would be just love between them – and perhaps a cactus pear that they would share and live to tell a tale!