LOST, FOUND & ACCEPTED:WHY LAAPATAA LADIES IS AN IMPORTANT SOCIAL COMEDY

By Ahona

If we take the plot of Laapataa Ladies and scratch its surface, we would probably see the social horrors layered beneath it. There's a young bride, helpless and alone in a desolate station. There's a clueless groom who has nothing but a veiled photograph of her to show to the police. There's a dubious police officer intent on wringing out as much money as possible. And there's the general, overwhelming fear of societal dishonour. That the film can shape all of this into an engaging comedy is a testament to Kiran Rao's directorial prowess. But comedies are deceptively potent, aren't they? They have this ability to underscore injustice without being too righteous. In Laapataa Ladies, comedy is a weapon. It opens a doorway. And both laughter and social truth pass through it. The idea of looking for a woman whose individual identity has been subsumed by the veil is one aspect of it. The idea of a married couple looking for each other is the second. They are trying to communicate to the rest of the world that losing each other isn't just a matter of honour or legality. It is also a romantic crisis. Phool and Deepak love each other. Their search for each other isn't just governed by social responsibility, but also by romantic need. The tenderness of their budding romance is important to the film, because it is what differentiates their marriage. But that tenderness is intercut with the narrative that unfolds around them. Not only has Deepak unintentionally abandoned his new bride at the railway station, he has also accidentally brought someone else's bride with him. And this third entity has many layers hiding her identity - the literal veil is only one of them. Much of the film's narrative is hinged upon this third character the charming and cryptic Pushpa Rani. She shatters a lot of social conventions from the first time she lifts her veil. While she is closely observed by the family she has stepped into, she also gazes back at them. Pushpa Rani seems to have a certain strength of spirit. When you see her in the film, you are both perplexed and intrigued by what she says. As for what she does not say, is it feminine propriety or the sinister intent of a trickster? Is Pushpa Rani what she shows or what she hides? There's no one quite as appropriate as a police inspector to look into the matter. Inspector Manohar has the legal licence, social responsibility and personal curiosity for it. Played phenomenally by Ravi Kishan, Manohar becomes much more than a stock character. He isn't just a corrupt officer looking to make some extra money on the side. There's an ingenuity to his intent. He knows what he wants, and how he can get it. But Pushpa Rani isn't an easy book to read. He may have his eyes set on nabbing her, but he doesn't know what she has her eyes set on. It is here that we realise just how delightfully mainstream the film is, while also being committed to the nature of the plot. When it captures the landscape of the country and the personhood of its people, it shows each one of them as characters with an individual belief system, but also with a strong sense of community. There are certain subplots in the film that focus on how these characters came to be the people they are today. These are people who give the film its expanse.Now, a film so focused on the personal crisis of common people may not seem "expansive" in a larger-than-life sense. But you see the immense charm of this quaint little story when you dive into it. The social implications of a film like this hold a lot of gravity. That is precisely why this film is so expansive because when it speaks about the romantic crisis of a young couple, or about the quest for identity, it becomes a metaphor for a larger reality. Through Pushpa, Phool and Deepak, the film traces a country brimming with stories, romances and identities. One only has to see beyond the veil.