The Sheperdess and the Seven Songs
Our story begins with a man lifting a rock. If he succeeds, he gets to marry a girl. Seems like a terrible way of assigning a lifetime commitment, but certainly, over the years, such things exemplified desired masculine strength, and hopefully, an ability to look over your bride. It’s one of those things that makes you want to say, “Down with the patriarchy.”
“The Sheperdess and the Seven Songs” explores the life of a woman after her marriage is arranged because the man lifted the rock. The end of her journey, in the film’s closing moments, reflect a loneliness as a result of a life not dictated by love. Everything that happens between those moments is honest about a life in flux, whether it’s from outside forces or inner desires.
Pushpendra Singh’s film is remarkably beautiful as it tells the story of Laila (Navjot Randhawa), the bride of Tanvir (Sadakkit Bijran), the man who lifted the rock. From the first time we see her, we not only recognize her beauty, but her independent spirit. That first meeting is with Tanvir, whom wants to talk to her about their arranged marriage. She is not happy about it, but she goes along with it because, what choice does she have?
Based on a folktale by author Vidaydan Detha, and inspired by the life of the 14th Century Kashmiri mystic, Lalleshwari, this film takes place in an area claimed by both Pakistan and India. It is set in the modern day, as it follows the turmoil the nomadic tribe she’s a part of, whether it comes from governmental harassment or internal pressures. Frequently, Laila is put in situations where she is having to make choices based on the wants of men rather than herself. The film is broken up into seven “songs,” each one following a time in Laila’s life. Some are mournful, some are filled with anxiety, and some are just life passing. All are complicated because of the simple fact that life is complicated.
The film’s cinematography by Ranabir Das is breathtaking, as Singh shows off the landscape with wide shots that give us a stunning depth of field. The music by Naren Chandavarkar and Benedict Taylor is lovely, sometimes haunting, but always captures the emotions of the moment, and the song we are in. It’s a lovely accomplishment, a compelling portrait of a different way of life from what most of us are used to, and a thoughtful narrative about a woman who, even when faced with the struggles of living in a world where she is seen as lesser, always knows her worth. It’s worth discovering.
