Dostojee: Bonds Beyond Loss

Prasun Chatterjee's film Dostojee not only tugs at our heartstrings with its poignant tale of friendship but also shed light on how individuals grapple with the loss of cherished bonds, and the transformative power of such experiences as a potent wellspring of motivation and resilience.

Sense of Wander: ★★★★☆

What are the moments from your childhood friendship that left an indelible imprint on your heart? Was it the joy of playing catch during recess, the endless chatter over lunchtimes, or perhaps something even more extraordinary?

For me, it was the harmonious notes we sang as part of the school choir during lunch breaks, our clandestine note-passing during class, and those cherished hours spent chatting on the telephone, day and night.

But for Palash and Sakiful, two 8-year-old boys in the Indian film Dostojee (দোস্তজী), their bond carries deeper weight.

The film opens with a scene featuring the two friends standing by the river, competing to see who can throw their pebbles the farthest across the water's surface. Palash and Sakiful share an unbreakable bond, partaking in nearly every activity together. They engage in football matches, pursue the same idol, visit the circus, fly kites, and even use the tinkling sounds of toktoki, a small metallic toy, as their covert means of communication.

Palash, born to a Hindu Brahmin, and Sakiful, the son of a Muslim weaver, share more than just a school route through sunshine and rain. Their homes, separated by mere straw walls in the same village, bear witness to their unique friendship. As they part ways at day's end, a simple yet profound practice unfolds – they bid farewell with the endearing term "Dostojee," signifying much more than mere friendship. Life seems idyllic for the two, unaware that an unyielding fate is silently approaching, about to tear them apart.

Palash (right) and Safikul (left) spent their free time roaming around in the open field, the calamity and serenity of the village they live in seem to reflect the purity and innocence of their friendship

Nestled in a remote village in West Bengal, near the India-Bangladesh border, their community bears the scars of the Babri Mosque demolition and the Bombay blasts of the early '90s. In one scene, villagers rally to raise funds for a mosque, while the Hindu population dwindles. Palash's mother, grappling with unease, expresses her fear of living in a village with dwindling Hindu presence.

Prasun Chatterjee’s film unfolds at a slow pace, yet it resonates with profound emotion. The religious tensions that simmer on the periphery suddenly ignite due to a drama performance staged by the Hindu community.

One day, Sakiful, the young Muslim, follows his "dostojee" to attend a jatra show. In the middle of the show, they slip behind the stage, only to discover the actors, who are ostensibly foes on stage, engaged in friendly conversation. Utterly bewildered, the boys are approached by one performer who clarifies, "We are not enemies. We are only playing enemies for the entertainment of the audience!" This curious scene prompts contemplation about whether it hints at a deeper, impending struggle, where the two boys of differing faiths are unwittingly thrust into roles as "enemies" for the community that watches this "show".

Palash and Safikul had a picture taken together on eid, with the latter dressed up in traditional muslim attire

Upon returning home, Sakiful faces his father's wrath for watching the Hindu performance. On another occasion, Palash inadvertently upsets his mother while feeding his little sister Muslim sweets prepared for Eid.

Religion may have created divisions for many, but not for these two boys. Certainly, conflicts are a common facet of friendship, including the relationship between Palash and Sakiful, but their ability to swiftly reconcile sets them apart. When they need to construct a school project, they do so by obtaining sand – not from just anywhere, but from the very location designated for the construction of a mosque. This, once again, underscores how religious tensions pale in comparison to the strength of their bond.

The film's climactic moment unfolds on a stormy day as the two boys make their way to the river to wash off the dirt after a soccer game. Meanwhile, their attention is drawn by the fish in the river, failing to notice the rising water level creeping from their legs up to their necks. In the end, Sakiful successfully catches the fish, but it's not long before he realises that his dostojee is missing. This is the very same river where they were first seen throwing pebbles in the film's opening scene.

Palash and Safikul walking home on a rainy day, each holding a big leaf overhead as an umbrella

Life takes a stark turn for Safikul after the passing of his dostojee. He remains confined to his bed for days, battling a fever, likely a result of the shock. The void left by his dear friend casts a long shadow over his everyday life, making everything feel unfamiliar, even though life remains outwardly unchanged.

Each time Safikul passes by the very river that took his friend’s life, he shuts his eyes tightly. Despite the cold reception from Palash's mother, he still visits his dostojee's house next door, tending to the caterpillar they once captured. It's as if he clings to that promise of caring for the caterpillar, a commitment that endures even in his friend's absence. When the caterpillar metamorphoses into a butterfly and breaking free from the confines of its glass jar, it serves as a poignant metaphor of Safikul's internal transformation, signifying that it's time for him to move forward and leave the past behind.

On one occasion, Sakiful questions his tutor: Can excelling in school make him like his dostojee? Why do people drown in water? Why can't people be like fish? While these might seem like peculiar queries to most, they are Safikul's way of grappling with Palash's loss, processing his grief, and perhaps seeking knowledge that might prevent him from losing loved ones in the future.

For the school's year-end project, Safikul designs a device inspired by fish's breathing mechanisms, hoping it could enable humans to breathe underwater. When his schoolteacher dismisses it as nonsense, he resolutely declares that he'll invent something similar when he grows up.

Safikul's placement as fifth in his class marks a remarkable transformation, especially considering his earlier indifference to homework and consistently lagging behind Palash, the class's top performer. In celebration of this achievement, his tutor arrives to offer congratulations and suggests taking him for a ride. In response, Safikul proposes a visit to the mango garden.

In the garden, we see Safikul standing before a lush tree, gazing at its trunk. It's then that we notice the word "dostojee" etched into the tree, a poignant emblem of their friendship. Immersed in this nostalgic moment, Safikul suddenly hears the birds singing, and he begins to mimic their calls. This exchange forms a connection between him and the birds, expressing a profound loneliness after his friend's passing, and the sense that, in everything around him, he still sees his dostojee.

The film's central theme, focusing on the bonds of friendship among youngsters, is not a new one. However, it tells this story in such a delicate manner that it feels like a whispered secret. Dostojee not only underscores the power of human connections but also highlights their potential to bring about transformative change. While this might not hold true for Palash's family, particularly his grief-stricken mother, who has been mourning her son's loss, for Sakiful, this tragedy becomes a wellspring of motivation and resilience. Losing someone we love is never easy, but it's a reminder that we have the ability to choose how we navigate that loss.

Palash (left) and Safikul (right) made themselves kings by wearing glowing caps glued with fireflies