BALANCE THE VIOLENCE

Uttar Pradesh and Bihar are more than their OTT versions

- PUJA AWASTHI

In the north of India exists a land that is the heart of the country’s inkiest darkness. It measures just one-tenth of India, but conjures up trouble far bigger than its size. Here, most inhabitants have lost, or, perhaps, never held a moral compass; while the few with shreds of soul lack gumption. The inhabitants of this land are mostly politicians, criminals or policemen—or their lackeys. The others (teachers, shopkeepers, office-goers) do not count. Here, not a single sentence is complete without an expletive. Here, women are either ready to be trod upon, or scheming vixens.

Here, there is no middle path—though it is where Gautama Buddha walked. Here, there are no people like us.

This land of extremes is but an alternative universe created by online streaming platforms. On a map, you can identify this universe as the states of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. But that is just a geographical placement; for the alternate OTT universe exists wholly neither in society and the culture nor in the art and language of this region’s life.

So which big bang birthed this alternative universe?

In 2018, Netflix released the first edition of a series called Mirzapur, which drew its name from a district (neighbouring Varanasi) famous for its rugs and carpets. Its handwoven, world-famous products have a geographical indication tag—but that is a story for another day.

In the first 20 minutes of episode one of Mirzapur, references are made to body parts and pubic hair; female characters giggle to suggestions of the aftermath of swaying anatomies; a man loses two fingers to a faulty country-made firearm, which backfires; betel leaf-chewing teachers generously fire projectiles of red juice into dustbins and cuss words are liberally exchanged.