Indian director, screenwriter and author
My pain? This was the pain of an Indian girl. These girls were mostly from Delhi and a few from Bangalore and Mumbai. Normally, the story of an Indian girl’s pain comes from the victims, survivors, or the feminists. A regular girl's suffering in her day-to-day life doesn’t ever feature in the national feminist narrative. They have been conditioned to accept it as part of living, as an everyday struggle. A part of the culture that wants to crush their dreams. Their aspirations. Their confidence.
I am utterly confused and tired. Everything is becoming clinical. I remember in 1985, a Leftist friend of mine had tried explaining the Naxal organizational structure to me, and finally exasperated, he’d said, ‘Trying to understand the Naxal movement is like peeling an onion. In the end, you will have only tears in your eyes and many disconnected and scattered layers of the onion.’
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I didn't get up from the corner of my study couch until I discovered a unique and dangerous nexus between the Naxal mafia and middlemen disguised as intellectuals. Like Prasoon would have desired, I had inverted the pyramid of intellectuals. I had found the theme of the film: Intellectual Terrorists.
Talking about the massacre of Sikhs that took place in Delhi in 1984, Vivek Agnihotri said, “It’s (1984) is a dark chapter of Indian history. The way the entire Punjab terrorism situation was handled, was inhuman & it was purely from vote bank politics & that’s why terrorism was cultivated by the Congress party in Punjab.”