Silence. Dead silence. The entire theatre sat numb as the spectacle of Chhaava concluded on the big screen. Teary-eyed and stunned, the audience encapsulated a profound sense of pride and resoluteness. Even in the absence of words, the celebration of our ancestors was palpable. This is the essence of Chhaava—a cinematic achievement that delves into the nuances of parts of India's rich history long overlooked by the Hindi film industry.
Situated in Mumbai, the Hindi film industry took over a century to celebrate the life and martyrdom of one of the tallest Maratha rulers, Dharmaveer Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj. An industry that found time to produce films like Alam Ara, Mughal-E-Azam, and Jodha Akbar has finally acknowledged a chapter of history that deserves unparalleled reverence. With Chhaava, history is improved through the glorification of one of our greatest warriors and rulers.
Based on Shivaji Sawant's novel of the same name, Chhaava explores the reign of Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj and his battle against the Mughal Sultanate led by Aurangzeb. The story keeps the audience hooked, with director Laxman Utekar capturing emotions on the big screen impeccably. He crafts a poetic tribute to the inspiring yet tragic life of the invincible Dharmaveer Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj. The final hour, in particular, takes the audience on an emotional rollercoaster—from rage to sorrow, from pride to honour—leaving them spellbound.
Rishi Virmani's dialogues are remarkable, lingering in the minds of viewers long after the film ends. Whether it's the duel of words between Dharmaveer Sambhaji Maharaj and his friend Kavi Kalash or the fiery exchange between Dharmaveer Sambhaji Maharaj and Aurangzeb in the climax, the dialogues elevate the film and reinforce the Maratha struggle. In a period drama, costumes and set design often determine the film's authenticity, and in Chhaava, they achieve near perfection. The meticulous attention to detail in Maratha costumes and regal aesthetics deserves the highest accolades. This is particularly evident in the coronation ceremony of Sambhaji Maharaj, where historical symbols, spears, the Jire Tope, and the Simhasan remain true to historical accounts.
This film does justice to history, its characters, ideas, and narrative. It excels in capturing the wisdom of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj and Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj, beautifully weaving their philosophies into the storyline. The narrative carefully upholds the ideals of Swarajya, with dialogues such as, “Maratha kab se apni suraksha ke bare mein sochne lage (Marathas are never bothered about their security?)?” This line truly reflects the selflessness of the Maratha rulers and their unwavering dedication to Hindavi Swarajya. It also pays homage to the countless warriors who sacrificed everything for their matrubhoomi (motherland). Similarly, the dialogue, “Swaraj kisi ek insaan ki ichha nahi, balki har ek insaan ko surakshit rakhne ke liye Ishwar ki ichha hai (Self-rule reflects God's will and not dependent on individual will),” highlights the philosophy of Hindu Pad Padshahi, which ensured the well-being of all, regardless of caste, creed, or religion.
The film epitomises inclusivity, as seen in the climactic moment when Sambhaji Maharaj responds to Aurangzeb's proposal to spare his life if he converts: “Humari taraf aa ja... aur dharma bhi nahi badalna padega (Come to our side, and you won't have to convert).” Likewise, the crowning of Ram Raje as Chhatrapati while Dharmaveer Sambhaji Maharaj was in captivity demonstrates that Swarajya was never dependent on one individual—it was an idea ingrained in Maratha blood. The triumph of the Marathas over the Mughals is a testament to this; while the Mughal Sultanate crumbled after Aurangzeb's death, Swarajya continued to thrive.
Yesubai's resilience is highlighted during Ram Raje's coronation, where she prioritises her duty as a queen over her grief as a wife and the sacrifices she endured as a mother by choosing Ram Raje as Chhatrapati instead of her own son.
The filmmakers have done a commendable job in capturing the Maratha rulers' spirit of sacrifice and valour. Furthermore, their portrayal of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj as a philosophy underscores their deep understanding of his contribution to protecting Dev, Desh, and Dharma. They have masterfully conveyed the dedication, devotion, determination, commitment, hope, belief, and spirit of sacrifice that Maharaj instilled in Indian society during its darkest times. One leaves the theatre hailing this philosophy, and this is the filmmakers' greatest achievement.
Another facet of the film worth mentioning is its brilliant use of Bal Sambhaji to convey its message. The depiction of young Sambhaji's yearning for his mother throughout the film is beautifully crafted. While Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj responds to him each time, the final answer comes from Sai Bai, symbolising the fulfilment of Sambhaji Maharaj's wish at the moment of his veergati (martyrdom).
Additionally, when Bal Sambhaji asks how long the tunnel is, Shivaji Maharaj tells him it is never-ending and that he must keep going—an evocative metaphor for the relentless pursuit of Swarajya. Through multiple poetic verses, the makers imbue the audience with the fighter spirit of the Marathas.
The film also delivers an important lesson: If we continue to fight among ourselves, we risk subjugation once again. It is time to stay united. If the energy the Maratha rulers expended on internal conflicts had instead been directed toward fighting the enemy, Swarajya could have been achieved much sooner. Today, as we enjoy freedom, the film reminds us of the need to continue striving for Suraaj, drawing inspiration from Swarajya.
All in all, Chhaava is a moving cinematic experience. It prompts deep reflection on the struggles our ancestors endured to preserve our culture. Moreover, the film serves as a lesson to filmmakers about evolving audience preferences. There is a growing trend of people appreciating their roots and seeking content that highlights culture, religion, and historical heroes. As an aspiring society, we yearn for stories that portray India as hopeful, progressive, and spiritually awakened. The demand for rooted, local, and relatable content is rising, and other filmmakers should take note.
Chhaava is a celebration of our heroes. This film is an honest effort to bring forgotten history to a larger audience in a cinematically rich manner.
(The author is a columnist and advisor for the Surat Lit Festival, the Khajuraho Literature Festival and the VESIM Literati Festival, Mumbai.)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author
