Madness in Haider

            As is the case for its source material of Hamlet, Haider is full of very complex characters. Few things about any of the main characters’ emotions and motivations are morally black-and-white, and furthermore, intertwined with these inner workings is a significant amount of madness. Almost every character can be seen to be diseased of mind, in some way, at one point of the movie or another, and the ways in which people deal with madness is a main theme explored by the film.

            Haider, notably, is driven insane by the betrayal of his mother and uncle, as well as his resulting desire for vengeance. Interestingly though, this madness seems to be empowering at first. Shakespeare often used the character of “the fool” or “the madman” to speak the most unadulterated truths, guarded as they were by the comedic front of their comments as well as their perceived disability. Haider, upon his return from his initial meeting with Rhoodar, is a perfect example of this “wise fool” archetype. He excites the crowd with such a scathing analysis of the Indian government’s actions in Kashmir that at this point, audience members are left questioning whether he is actually insane – it seems like he’s just using it as a shield as discussed above, hiding behind his madness as he speaks his mind and does what he believes he needs to do.

            Haider continues to come across as at least somewhat in control of his mental state until he murders Salman and Salman. The madness has ceased to be empowering since the wedding dance, when Khurram reveals his understanding of Haider’s plans. Now, as he bludgeons his old friends’ heads in with rocks, the madness seems debilitating, in control of Haider rather than the other way around. His original, focused plan of avenging his father by killing Khurram has been blurred by his emotional turmoil, and now justifies the murder of anyone who stands in his way. There are very few lenses through which Haider can be viewed as morally better than anyone he is combating after this point, and viewers suffer the loss of their hero not to death, but to madness and the evil it has begotten.

            However, not only does Haider’s insanity drive him to commit various atrocities, but those atrocities, in turn, engender madness in the minds of those he loves as well. Ghazala warns Haider that revenge only results in revenge, but the same is evidently true in the case of madness. Arshia and Ghazala, notably, are emotionally disturbed by Haider’s crusade to the point of insanity. It is interesting to compare the resulting madness of these two with that of Haider himself though. With Khurram as a very obvious target for blame and aggression, Haider’s compulsion becomes to bring about Khurram’s death. Arshia and Ghazala both love Haider too much too blame him for their sorrows, and so have no target for blame or aggression. As a result, they both end up seeking death themselves, committing suicide. Madness drives its victims toward death in all three cases, whether it is someone else’s or their own. We get a sense that part of Haider’s internal conflict at the end of the film as he is trying to decide whether or not to shoot Khurram is due to his realization that he must now find a new purpose in this horrible life he’s just created for himself. His decision not to kill Khurram suggests a slight step back from his madness, a slight regain of control. With the understanding that his father’s murder will shortly die anyway, Haider instead chooses to avenge his mother in a way – by fulfilling her final desire for him not to seek revenge.

            Treachery leads to anger, and anger leads to madness. Madness leads to sorrow, and sorrow leads to more madness. In the final seconds of the film though, all of this madness and sorrow leads to clarity. Unfortunately, the destructive cycle is broken far too late for any happiness to be salvaged by anyone involved.