He is a womanist rather than a feminist

<div class="section1"><div class="Normal"><script language="javascript" src="Config?Configid=43376741"></script></div> <div align="left" style="position:relative; left: -2"><table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" align="left" border="1" width="62.2%"> <colgroup> <col width="100.0%" /> </colgroup> <tr valign="top"> <td width="100.0%" colspan="1" rowspan="1" style="" valign:="" top="" background-color:="" f3f3f3=""> <div class="Normal"><span style="" font-size:=""><a href="javascript:popUp(&quot1;photopop?msid=245412&type=0&quot1;)"> <img border="0" align="left" src="/cms.dll/thumb?height=220&width=220&photoID=245412" hspace="12"" /></a></span></div> </td> </tr> <tr valign="top"> <td width="100.0%" colspan="1" rowspan="1" style="" valign:="" top="" background-color:="" f3f3f3=""> <div class="Normal"><span style="" font-size:="">Click to enlarge</span></div> </td> </tr> </table></div> <div class="Normal">MUMBAI: "We have learnt to live with small love," Rituparno Ghosh observes astutely, staring pensively out of the window. "We scarcely ever come across big love. Perhaps we are reconciled to letting big love remain a utopia."<br /><br />Director of <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Chokher Bali </span>(Passion Play\Sand in the Eye), adapted from the eponymous Rabindranath Tagore novel set in 1902-''05, Mr Ghosh was reflecting on a key line in the novel, ''A small love draws you close, a great one pushes you away.'' <br /><br />We are sitting in a Mumbai hotel room, following a preview of his film that opens in the city next week. Starring Aishwarya Rai, Raima Sen, Prosenjit and Tota Roychowdhury, the film is in Bengali with English sub-titles.<br /><br />Aishwarya, who plays the attractive widow Binodini, is the pivot of a complex love quartet that is doomed to bear tragic consequences for all. <br /><br />The film is intimate and so aesthetically rich as to send your senses reeling.<br /><br /></div> </div><div class="section2"><div class="Normal">Mr Ghosh is in his element unravelling the shifting sands of intimate relationships, although its ambiguous climax, which attempts to align the search for freedom of both the woman and the nation, leaves you a bit puzzled.<br /><br />As an artist, Mr Ghosh drinks deeply of both Rabindranath Tagore and Satyajit Ray. "My film has traces of Ray, but builds its own tradition. Tagore''s original ending has Binodini and Mahendra (who have an extra-marital affair) touch each other''s feet and ask for forgiveness." he says. <br /><br />"But Tagore has admitted that he regretted the end and ought to be censured for it. Tagore was a Brahmo, he came from an enlightened lot, not Hindu. So, he wasn''t finetuned to the miseries of Hindu women. For instance, a Hindu widow of the time would never go on a picnic with others as she does in the novel.<br /><br />"But I find his philosophy more important than his narrative," Mr Ghosh continues. "So, I changed the ending because the most precious love is unrequited love." <br /><br />This certainly makes him a soulmate of sorts with Sanjay Leela Bhansali. In Mr Ghosh''s climax, Binodini simply vanishes, leaving a letter behind. "In fact, Tagore intended to titillate his readers with this tale of a widow adulteress, which he originally serialised in his magazine Banga Darshan. <br /><br /></div> </div><div class="section3"><div class="Normal">Yet, there''s something wonderfully liberating about the way he dealt with sexual choices for women a century ago. As an artist, he was more androgynous— with equal empathy for men and women. Whereas Ray had more of a male gaze and in ''Ghare Baire'', for instance, he wanted the woman to be punished (for sexual transgression) whereas Tagore did not."<br /><br />Mr Ghosh prefers to sees himself as ‘womanist'' rather than ''feminist''.<br /><br />"Womanism implies a kind of grace under pressure. Feminism has been reduced to a lot of belligerence, but womanism is more encompassing," he says. <br /><br />"I was making a womanist statement because women were left out of the freedom struggle. Behari (who resists an affair with Binodini) remains celibate because he is a nationalist —it''s his way of leaving out women. So, I''m dealing with the fallacy of nationalism —it was used as a device to entice or reject a woman."<br /><br />There''s no doubt Mr Ghosh has used Aishwarya to entice a larger audience for his work. "Apart from being a Bollywood star, I chose Aishwarya because I wanted a classical face whose sensuality comes from within. And of course, stars bring good crossover value to regional language cinema and could open up the market," he says.<br /><br />His next film, <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Raincoat</span>, in Hindi, reprises Aishwarya Rai and Ajay Devgan, the duo of <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam </span>directed by Sanjay Leela Bhansali. Clearly, the idea of unrequited love appeals greatly to both. "Sanjay has a lovely way of discovering talent," he says. "Raincoat is about estranged lovers meeting during an afternoon. It will have the drama of my <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Unishe </span>April and the lightness of touch of <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Titli</span>." We are waiting for a downpour.</div> </div>