As the news of Puneeth Rajkumar’s demise poured in on 29 October, Bengaluru city witnessed a deluge of emotions. The passing away of the beloved Appu of Kannada cinema was no less than a personal loss to many. Even the untimely rains were coincidental to the untimely loss, accompanying tears.
About a month of grieving over Rajkumar’s death now, yet, the process of continuity in grief writes a saga of life with cine-politics at the helm of cultivating public emotions. While it has been almost a month, the streets of Bengaluru are still covered in tribute flexes, banners, and posters. As if, it is conveying to the city-dwellers of the late actor’s omnipresence; of the politics of adulation that carries in it a cultural uniqueness emanating from the Southern states of the country.
Taking a cue from Martha Nussbaum, the flow of public emotions may be contextualized in the socio-political and cinematic history of the region. Perhaps, an unusual feature in many parts of the country, though such expressions of public emotions in the South are commonplace.
The improbability of melodramatic twists, exaggerated expressions, high-pitched music, extravagant locales- all characteristic of the popular domain of South Indian Cinema, indeed, reels in its mass appeal, one of the most unique features of the Southern cine-politics in India. Hence, it may be both ignorant and naïve not to imagine the intensity of emotions associated with Puneeth’s death.
At this juncture of excessive emotions and compassion lies an effective ‘energy of love’ driving the very site of emotion cultivation through the demi-godly cinematic figures. The outburst of emotions, in this case, finds a delicate balance in echoing the struggle for daily survival. Thus, the Rajkumar cult is valorized in the making of the political economy surrounding the tragedy.
Kanteerava Studios, the location of Puneeth’s Samathi, remains the embodiment of this cycle of life that makes survival an equal part of grief.
As people from all over Karnataka have been visiting the samadhi, small businesses have flourished surrounding the location. From serving food to the visitors to catering to the essential needs, from selling merchandise and jewelry to playing Puneeth songs – a tragedy may also turn out to be a repository of support, struggle, and survival; an urge to continue living irrespective; an unforgettable exhibition of adoration and admiration.
Irrespective of being categorized as aesthetically unappealing and unrealistic by the critics, popular South Indian Cinema has contributed significantly to the making of cine politics. The intersection of cinematic and social influence has been categorical in paving the way of establishing the cult cinematic figures like MGR, Rajnikant, Rajkumar in the South. In fact, unlike general perceptions, they all have cross-lingual appeals across South India.
This interface of cinema and politics in the Southern Indian context revolves around the forging of Dravidian unity, challenging the socio-economic hierarchy, catering to the working class, making cinema accessible to all indiscriminately, and actors playing more prominent socio-political roles. Puneeth’s legacy embraces all these features succinctly.
On the one end of this cine-political spectrum would be those whose daily lives may be disrupted because of the blatant exhibition of the grief; on the other end of the spectrum would be those experiencing the grief themselves, looking for an outlet to vent it out. While the former may have the socio-economic wherewithal not to get personally invested in grieving, the latter may be integrally connected to the pain of loss and shattering of dreams due to socio-structural reasons.
In the convolution of personal unfulfillment and the euphoria of cinematic experiences, the latter becomes a part of the process of grieving. In short, at play here are political emotions that only a section of the Indian subaltern may be privy to due to the prevalent socio-economic structures.
Grief, one of the strongest of human emotions, carries expressions of survival as much as despair. While the individual processes of grieving may be unique, grief takes an especially public character when coupled with the politics of adulation.
Hence, touching a month of Puneeth Rajkumar’s demise, those who are still wondering the excess of emotions and are disconnected from the ground realities of daily struggles in conjunction with the aspects of class structure may pause and rethink the discomfort associated with the apparent ‘loudness’ of the public character of grief.