Rachana Dubey (BOMBAY TIMES; September 7, 2019)

In the last 11 years, not once has she played the quintessential Bollywood heroine — romancing her hero in the mountains, draped in a chiffon sari. Richa Chadha has always prided herself in playing characters that had layers and were seldom straight-jacketed. And, her career seen various ups and downs. “My entire backlog, including films that were stuck, has been cleared. Saare purane paap dhul chuke hain…” she says, while talking about her professional choices. Richa, who will be seen as a lawyer in Ajay Bahl’s Section 375, talks about the statistics of rape cases in India, the law and its implementation, the #MeToo Movement and assesses where her career stands today. Excerpts:

You debuted with Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye! (2008), and have completed 11 years in the industry. From being an outsider to an independent insider, the journey has not been easy, especially with the kind of roles you’ve chosen to play. Are you happy with the way your career has shaped up?
I didn’t know what else to do. As a child, I was inclined towards performing arts. I knew that this hobby will become my profession. When I came to Mumbai, I only wanted to act in films, which continues to make me happy and drive me even to this day. My goal was to become a credible actor, who stays relevant beyond her youth. Thankfully, my ambition was never to dance on a hill, clad in a chiffon saree. In the last two-three years, I have had some ups and downs. On several occasions, I’ve felt like my career is winding up. My roles were snipped, and I wasn’t treated fairly. I’ve experienced all these things, but now, finally, I feel that with all the work in the pipeline, I am in a happy space. Trust me, with the kind of roles I have played, it’s a miracle that I still have a career.

Why do you say that?
Who plays a 60-year-old at the age of 24? I have consistently played older women, tough and non-glamorous characters. I have not done a remarkable romcom; I should be grateful I still exist after all of this. I remember, people had refused to represent me when they discovered I was playing Nawazuddin Siddiqui’s mother in Gangs of Wasseypur (GoW). I would go for meetings in shorts and sports shoes to remind people that I am not the character that I am playing on the screen. On so many occasions, I was told that I have no future here. Today, when I’m asked if I feel I have not got my due, I feel great because I still have a lot to achieve. I don’t want to be a replaceable prop. I’ve seen many such entries in show business — arrival with a bang, glam roles and an eventual marriage with a businessman when the career fades. In my case, I didn’t have too many options. But if you are sincere, you will get work and earn respect and credibility. I continue to have my filters. People think I am crazy, but I can’t care much. I was offered a hefty sum for a film that had sexual innuendos. I refused it; I’m selective and although I have made professional mistakes, I can’t afford more. The new slate of roles that I now have resonates with me.

In Section 375, you’re playing a lawyer, who has an idealistic bend of mind. It’s probably a difficult space for you, given that almost all your roles so far have had a twisted side to them...
I have not played an idealist before. I don’t care if people don’t like me in it, but I am happy with the role. My lawyer friends helped me in a big way. I also observed a lot of these women who are operating in the machinery that’s largely run by men. They carry themselves in a certain manner. Apart from the alarming statistics around rapes, I also studied how women lawyers function in the courtrooms. Ajay Bahl (director) treated the material at hand very cautiously. He once took me aside and said, ‘Mazaa nahi aa raha hai. You were so good in Gangs of Wasseypur and Masaan. What happened to you?’ I realised that I had probably forgotten how to act, or maybe I was not doing what was required. From that day onwards, I pushed myself harder. I realised that I didn’t have to act; I had to be the person I was playing. I value a director like Ajay, who demands something solid out of you.

Films like yours have to walk a tightrope because you can’t sound preachy, and at the same time, it has to stick to the core idea that will keep the audience invested in the story.
The film might spark off controversies, but no part of Section 375 is biased. It’s an objective take on what really goes on when a rape case is being heard. People will draw parallels with real-life cases, but we are prepared for that. We read about incidents of rape, but often, they just remain headlines for us. In a complex country like India, a lot of cases go unreported. There is a social stigma around rape, and sadly, we have a culture of victim-shaming. Naak kat gayi and izzat lut gayi are common phrases used. With such stigma, who in their right mind, would want to seek justice? In another ecosystem, like Bollywood, why do you think women don’t come forward with their #MeToo stories as often? It’s for the same reason. Rape cases go unreported because the perpetrators are often known to the family; it could be a friend or relative. No one wants that ‘shame’ attached to their khandaan. In rape cases, the identity of a victim is protected, purely because there is a stigma attached to the incident. Having said that, even from the cases that are reported, there is a percentage that is fake. It’s a heinous crime and you would wonder why a woman with a sound mind would accuse someone falsely? But statistics say that bad break-ups, rivalries between families or communities are settled using the law (related to this crime). Keeping these circumstances in mind, our film had to be nuanced, balanced and forthright without taking sides.

According to a recent Supreme Court judgement, in every case, a man cannot be accused of rape when he fails to marry a woman despite a promise even if they have been in a sexual relationship. How do you process a this judgement, which can be misused?
The laws pertaining to rape have undergone changes in recent times. People are trying to understand them. I’m aware of the judgement, but law is open to interpretation. Now, there are times when a man puts a woman through duress to have sex. Legally, the woman can accuse him of rape. She gave consent, but it was not her will. People are complicated and so are the laws; interpreting them is even more complex, which is the reason a film like Section 375 is not easy to watch.

In a previous answer, you mentioned the #MeToo Movement. The general perception is that it has lost its steam in India within a year.
I have been unequivocal with my support for it. Recently, I refused to go to an event, which was being chaired by someone with allegations of harassment. In recent times, I have seen a lyricist friend suffer, thanks to a fake case. In Karan Oberoi’s case, we know he had a stalker. Having said that, I disagree when someone says the #MeToo Movement has lost steam. It’s not just a twitter trend. Azaadi ke liye hum 200 saal lade the na? This, too, will take some time. The change that has occurred in the system is irreversible. The cat is out of the bag. Women know that they have been wronged. Men know that though they have done this assuming that they will never get penalised, but they can now be severely punished if found guilty. Today, if you go to a casting director or a filmmaker’s office, they all have CCTV cameras for their own good. No one wants trouble. Of course, it’s not like one size fits all; even men are at a risk. While the law is trying to protect victims, it does get misused. The #MeToo Movement has just scraped the surface and it will have a long run; justice is not instant.

But for a movement to go on, and for a case to be fought in court, the victim needs to come forward. In a certain filmmaker’s on-going defamation case, the said victim, at least in the initial hearings, didn’t appear in the court. She reportedly sent her statement through her counsel, requesting not to be made a party in the case. While victims can request anonymity, this also makes such cases complicated…
Through my conversations with my lawyer friend, I have understood certain things. By the time cases come up for hearing, the women have moved on from that terrible crime. Their families don’t want to be put through grief. In some cases, women fear losing their livelihood if they decide to either come out with their #MeToo stories or fight a battle in court. And some women cannot afford the battle monetarily. No one should ever judge these women or their reasons. Victims that don’t want to lose their anonymity can always demand closed-door proceedings, if they have any apprehensions. But I agree that when a victim doesn’t come forward, the battle becomes even more complicated. We take three steps forward and half a step back. The only way to treat this problem is to treat a survivor with respect and kindness.