Earth Response - Michelle

1947 marks a pivotal moment in South Asian history. To the rest of the world, it is the year of India’s independence from Great Britain. But to the people who live in that time and place, it is the year of Partition. There are two divergent narratives for the story of partition (Modern South Asia). One says that Muslim Indian had long since represented a distinct culture from Hindu Indians, and that Partition was not only wanted, but also inevitable. The second says that Partition tore apart a unified India. Deepa Mehta’s Earth does not take a stance on the origins of this monumental event. Rather, it focuses on its effects. Like many Partition-themed films, Earth uses melodrama to address issues that hold significance at a national level (Revisiting 1947). Through the conflicts that arise amongst Lenny, her nanny Shanta, and her male suitors, Mehta gives human faces to the havoc that Partition wrought on the Indian psyche. Moreover, the character arcs of the film (most notably of Lenny and Dil) go beyond the notion of Partition as a divisive force, and highlight its traumatic effects. Some have described Partition as India’s “Holocaust”—by the original definition of the word, “a great or complete devastation or destruction, esp. by fire”. Earth suggests that Partition was not only a Holocaust of national identity, but also of innocence.

 The film articulates the Partition narrative from a unique position, one of neutrality. Hailing from a Parsi family and having friends of both the Hindu and Muslim faith, Lenny offers the most unbiased lens one could ask for. In fact, throughout most of the film, characters attempt to maintain neutrality. Little is said in the matter of politics, excepting a couple of conversations over meals. Essentially, Earth tells the story of people fighting the fight. It begs the questions: is it possible to remain neutral in the face of fracture, to escape a traumatic situation without scars? From early on, Mehta utilizes color to suggest that the answer is no. In the scenes within Lenny’s house, the cinematography is marked by a ubiquitous yellow tint. Its glow conveys a feeling of warmth, safety, neutrality. But this calm warmth lies in stark contrast to the bursts of red that pervade the house. Curtains, carpets, candles, roses. Even items that dawn characters, like eyeglasses, lipstick, sashes, and turbans. Fiery red objects break through the yellow haze constantly, suggesting a disruptive force, impeding on characters attempts for neutrality. The color red solidifies its chaotic, malevolent symbolism as when the audience is hit with the image of the female corpses on the train, their bodies defiled and strewn with the red of blood. The red points to an India sullied.

But what precisely is being sullied? To answer this question, we look to the character that anchors the film: Lenny. She is the epitome of innocence. Only eight year old, she is yet to see the horrors of the world. Other characters seek to protect her from the events that surround them. Her mother assures her at the beginning that Partition will not come to pass. Shanta shields her eyes from the violence that breaks out in the streets below. Even her male friend, who looks to be the same age, won’t tell her what “rape” is when she asks. But her leg, disfigured by polio, foreshadows the idea that trauma can effect the most innocent. She emerges from the film with a part of her soul tarnished. By unintentionally giving up the truth about Shanta, she contributes to violence perpetrated against yet another person. We see a more extreme version of the loss of innocence through Dil, who goes from a boy in love to a murderer, after losing his sisters and being rejected by Shanta. These personal accounts of innocence lost allude to a loss of national innocence through Partition. Although India was able to rid itself of its colonists through peaceful means, it nonetheless fell into violence and (at least) temporary self-destruction.