Mani Ratnam's seminal 1998 film Dil Se has returned to select theaters this November as part of celebrations marking Shah Rukh Khan's 60th birthday. The film, which originally released 27 years ago, remains as complicated, divisive, and visually breathtaking as ever, proving its enduring power to provoke discussion and awe.
The Problematic Pursuit: Re-examining Amar's Stalking
One scene in particular continues to unsettle contemporary audiences. When Amar (Shah Rukh Khan) follows Meghna (Manisha Koirala) to the frozen deserts of Ladakh and aggressively attempts to kiss her despite her repeated rejections, viewers in recent screenings have visibly recoiled. "I don't remember him being such a stalker," remarked one rattled young woman after a showing.
The film doesn't shy away from this uncomfortable reality. Amar pursues a clearly reluctant Meghna to her hometown in what appears to be Assam, gets beaten up for his persistence, then tracks her to Leh. Throughout this pursuit, she consistently tells him she's married and uninterested. While Shah Rukh Khan's charm softens the character initially, the Leh confrontation reveals the troubling nature of his obsession.
However, the film provides crucial context through Meghna's perspective. As Amar's behavior escalates, Koirala's physical performance brilliantly charts Meghna's evolving response—from calm defiance to shock, panic, and eventually numbness with fear when he invades her space at night. Ratnam deliberately centers her experience of betrayal and terror.
Political Allegory: Love as Metaphor for State Relations
Dil Se operates on multiple levels, with the central relationship serving as a potent political allegory. Amar represents the advancing Indian state—he repeatedly identifies himself as a "government servant" working for All India Radio, brandishing his government ID like a badge of privilege.
His entitlement manifests in microaggressions that mirror real-world dynamics. He asks a separatist leader if he'll speak Hindi, tells him he "looks normal, exactly like us," and teases Meghna about her "small eyes and flat nose"—precisely the kind of casual xenophobia that people from Northeast India have long endured.
Meanwhile, Meghna symbolizes the marginalized "outsider" subjected to state advancement. The power dynamics shift intriguingly when soldiers checking IDs approach—Meghna quickly claims she's with Amar, recognizing his utility as protection. This moment of pragmatic alliance complicates their relationship beyond simple binaries of stalker and victim.
Visual Poetry and Narrative Complexity
From its opening on a rain-drenched railway platform to the iconic train-top choreography of Chaiyya Chaiyya, Dil Se unfolds with dream logic that defies conventional storytelling. The film transports viewers through stunning set pieces—from the apocalyptic battlefield of Dil Se Re to the Pina Bausch-inspired choreography of Satrangi Re at 12,000 feet in Ladakh, and an unexpected detour to Kerala for Jiya Jale.
Santosh Sivan's cinematography remains breathtakingly intense, with Dil Se Re alone containing a dozen of the most stunning shots in Indian cinema. The visual grandeur contrasts with the film's gritty political concerns, creating a unique tension that defines the viewing experience.
The film's portrayal of insurgency has its limitations—the separatists don't convincingly represent Northeastern states, and the suicide bombing plot resembles LTTE tactics more than local movements. Yet Ratnam, who conceived the film during India's 50th year of independence, clearly intended to highlight "problem areas which had not been tackled," as he told critic Baradwaj Rangan.
When Amar asks locals about India's progress since independence, one man replies bluntly: "The Central government terrorises us." The Indian intelligence agents appear officious and ineffective, military leadership seems myopic, and soldiers are implicated in rape and genocide.
Watching Dil Se today raises poignant questions about contemporary filmmaking. As one viewer wondered: "Who's shooting like that today? Is it even possible on digital? Who's willing to fund a thorny film with limited commercial prospects?"
The film's closing lines from Satrangi Re—"Ishq par zor nahi, hai yeh woh aatish" (love is beyond coercion, it is a fire)—perfectly describe the film itself, always threatening to unravel yet burning intensely from the opening shot of barbed wire to the final image of burning wreckage.
Dil Se is currently showing in select theaters and available for streaming on Netflix.
