I contemplated this for a long time – whether, while watching The Great Shamsuddin Family, I laughed more, or if the laughter nearly emerged but ultimately did not manifest. In this era of hatred towards all things Muslim, is this narrative centered on a Muslim family, or is it a Muslim family narrating the tale of a contemporary Hindu family or the grand Hindu nation? I perceived this film as a commentary on that grand Hindu Rashtra, which has not been formally declared, yet has been informally established.The characters in the film may bear Muslim names, but their performances echo the influences of characters from a Hindu nation-state. The resonance of slogans is audible. Although none of these elements are overtly displayed on the film screen, their existence is distinctly felt. This illustrates the brilliance of the film: what is absent or minimal is what stands out the most. In an era where every other film portrays a Muslim or several Muslims as villains, Anusha Rizvi presents a Muslim family as its hero.As the ‘fully entitled citizens’ of the unofficial Hindu Rashtra sway to the rhythm of Dhurandhar’s Rahman dacoit, the Muslim sisters of The Great Shamsuddin Family, emerge as heroines facing the looming fear of a mob and begin to sing a soul-stirring melody. It is impossible to separate the lyrics of that song into Hindu and Muslim segments. In a closed room in Delhi, they safeguard and proclaim to preserve that India, the very India whose annihilation is commemorated daily in victory processions.The Great Shamsuddin Family lacks a Muslim male hero. There are no individuals delivering stinging speeches like Asaduddin Owaisi, reciting poetry like Imran Pratapgarhi, or, despite their dedication, oscillating between the roles of activist and leader like Shahnawaz Hussain. Such a man does not exist. While men are involved in the realm of Muslim politics, it is the Muslim women who counter politics in the narrative of The Great Shamsuddin Family.While men occupy a role in the Muslim political arena, the narrative of the film highlights the response of Muslim women to politics. Photo: Youtube/Jio Hotstar.Anusha’s film serves as a response from the women of the Shamsuddin family to the unofficial Hindu nation India.How many directors today would be willing to engage with such a story? It often appears that, out of fear, they have lost the ability to tell such a story while protecting it from the censor’s cuts. They may have encountered even more compelling stories than The Great Shamsuddin Family, featuring a Muslim protagonist, narratives of Muslim youth wrongfully accused in the name of cow protection. However, today, no one is inclined to produce a film based on such a story.Anubhav Sinha’s Mulk stands as an exception. The censor board fails to recognise how easy its job has become. The stories that reach its desk have already been censored a hundred times over.In this film, the nation is depicted as a room. Hindu nationalism has not yet infiltrated this space, but the fear of its impending presence constantly looms. It lurks at the door. It hovers at the windows. Each time the doorbell rings, it feels as though the mob has arrived, the very mob that the characters have been dreading. The fear of this mob’s arrival is what caused Bani to distance herself from Aditya long ago. It prompted her to begin calculating how much to speak or write to ensure her own safety. While they await a mob to appear at the door, whenever the doorbell rings, it is somebody else – Nabila, Amitabh, Humaira, or Pallavi accompanied by Zoheb. Meanwhile, alerts about the violence in Gurugram flash on the mobile phone like a warning signal. It seems entirely natural for Humaira to assume that the charred vehicle belongs to her and to believe that she has lost her husband forever. Until the very end, she cannot rid herself of this belief. This facet of Humaira’s performance serves as a testament to both the actor’s talent and the director’s vision.A person arrives home after fleeing the threat of being killed, yet even upon their return, it seems they have not truly come back. The film does not overtly state this; rather, we have interpreted it this way from our perspective. Just prior to this scene, Humaira, concealing her deep-seated fear, urges her sister Bani to apply for an opportunity to go abroad. At that precise moment, Anusha’s camera pans upward as if a plane has just flown over the very rooftop where this dialogue unfolds. This scene gently shatters, like dew, the promise enshrined within the pages of the constitution.Because of this one scene, all the humour accumulated in The Great Shamsuddin Family dissipates. It’s a testament to Anusha’s craft, the manner in which she has woven numerous avenues in this film that facilitate enjoyment without directly confronting the country’s issues. However, upon exiting the film, one forgets the laughter and begins to contemplate what’s happening in the country.This film is designed to evoke laughter and enjoyment, yet amidst two fuuny scenes, the presence of the mob resonates with the political climate of our era. The mob is approaching. The mob will inevitably arrive, yet the sisters continue their petty betrayals, belittling each other, and embracing each other. It’s akin to the Titanic, which is about to sink with a party still going on aboard the ship. The Titanic sinks, but the great Shamsuddin family and their dream of India do not sink.In a Muslim household, a Hindu girl and a Muslim boy announcing their intention to marry is a situation that transcends mere matrimony. Zoheb arrives with Pallavi, and as the women gaze upon them, the misleading headlines, narratives, and concocted allegations associated with love jihad flash before their eyes. Fortunately, there is the corrupt judge who, setting aside the fear of love jihad, raises his bribe demands and proceeds to register the marriage. In this film, love jihad is never referenced. Conversion laws are not discussed, nor is there any mention of life imprisonment. The focus is solely on the mob, and simply acknowledging the mob renders all of this audible.Whenever Pallavi’s phone rings loudly in the middle of the narrative – “Papa Calling,” “Mummy Calling,” “Grandma Calling”– it feels like the mob is calling.This film assures us that while fearing slogans is one aspect, as long as judges in this country continue to accept bribes, cash remains in circulation even post-demonetisation, banks continue to fail, and Deepak Bhai keeps depositing cash in the bank after accepting bribes, not all avenues in life will be closed. One will only be required to pay a higher sum. Officials who accept bribes do so primarily from those in dire situations; it is not that they refrain from taking bribes from desperate Hindus, but that they demand slightly higher bribes from desperate Muslims.However, Humaira also forges her mother’s signature to withdraw Rs 25 lakh, which she hands over to Iram. Subsequently, a Hindu acquaintance of Iram, named Vicky, gets hold of the money under the pretext of a business transaction. Although Vicky initially vanishes, he eventually reappears and offers excuses. The director leaves Vicky’s promise to return the 25 lakh as a mere assurance, akin to the promise of Rs 15 lakh being deposited into everyone’s accounts, and moves on. Iram resembles those Muslim women who appear as anchors on pro-government news channels, acting as representatives for the party that pits for Hindu Rashtra. The act of forgiving Vicky indicates that Iram and Humaira find themselves with no alternatives left.Meanwhile, in the real nation, the Supreme Court has dropped all criminal proceedings against the Sandesara brothers after they returned Rs 5,100 crore as per the apex court’s order. Soon, they will also get relief from the bank fraud case.This film provides an assurance, as do the women of the Shamsuddin family in contemporary times. The character of those in power has not transformed with the emergence of a Hindu Rashtra. They have not become adherents of truth or deities that deliver justice. Nothing of the sort has happened, nor will it ever do. Envisioning this nation as being devoid of corruption is a betrayal of every concept of religion. Even sisters do not spare each other over prayer and Umrah. In the name of practicing Islam, women from ostensibly devout Muslim families are disclosing each other’s secrets, demonstrating that the compromises they make concerning obligatory religious duties are akin to those made in Hindu families. The sisters fear income tax and regard the possession of black money as sinful, but they rationalise accepting the dowry payment in cash. They also exhibit no qualms about offering a bribe for the sake of getting a marriage registered. This marks the beginning of the characters’ subtle defiance against the prevailing religion in their lives and in the nation. You could call it innocent resistance. The overarching narrative of the film implies that the politics of an unofficially Hindu nationalist India is indifferent to the establishment of morality and justice, both in the nation or in familial settings. Therefore, the issues present in the country are likely to persist within households as well. The eyes of each actor revealed a great deal, yet a distinctly different narrative unfolded in Bani’s gaze. Photo: Youtube/Jio Hotstar.Director Anusha’s lens is undoubtedly drawn to the eyes, which explains the exquisite capturing of the characters’ gazes. At times, one could observe the movement of lips reflected in their eyes, and upon realising this, I often found myself wishing I were the one behind the camera. A truly remarkable film is one that immerses you to the extent that you feel as though you are part of its creation while viewing it. The eyes of each actor revealed a great deal, yet a distinctly different narrative unfolded in Bani’s gaze – one that was not overtly depicted in this film and which the censors would likely fail to comprehend.Kritika Kamra delivered an outstanding performance as Bani, but it is difficult to determine which character among the multitude was underwhelming or whose acting fell short. The exceptional portrayals of numerous characters in a confined space breathe life into the film. The character of 90-year-old Farida Jalal seeks to reconnect with the India where her acting career commenced. At this stage in her life, Farida’s confident performance reflects her belief in the India of the past, which will persist into the future.While many critics have pointed out that it belongs to the comedy genre, I question how this can be classified as such. I may not grasp the precise definition of comedy; however, I understand the language that, in this context, mocks itself while addressing these circumstances but weeps in solitude.The narrative of The Great Shamsuddin Family revolves around Muslim sisters who defy circumstances shaped by the slogans of a grand Hindu Rashtra, while also depicting the experiences of Hindu families who recognise this fear but lack the language to navigate and resist the era – those the film identifies as liberals. The Great Shamsuddin Family is available for streaming on Hotstar, do watch it. Ravish Kumar is a senior journalist.Translated from Hindi by Naushin Rehman. Read the original piece published on The Wire Hindi.