Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela: Love Blooms in the Desert of Hatred

It is established early in Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela (2013) that the village of Ranjhaar is a lawless land brimming with unrest and turmoil between two rival clans - the Rajadis and the Saneras. In the film's opening scene, we see an oddly unsettling sight. A grown man Bhavani (Gulshan Devaiah) is chasing a young kid from the rival family and is trying to kill him. Meanwhile, arms and ammunition are being sold in the market as if they were fruits and vegetables. From the first scene itself, we are made aware of the rage and anger brimming in the heads and hearts of the residents of the village. There is an eerie sense of foreboding about the tragedy this rage would culminate in. 

Enter Ram (Ranveer Singh). Amidst the insipid patriarchy of the Rajadis, Ram’s personality feels like a breath of fresh air. In a family where hatred is so deep-rooted, Ram dares to think of the impossible: what if there was peace? The members of his clan look down upon him, even going to the extent of doubting his masculinity. But make no mistake, Ram is unabashedly masculine. It's just that he doesn’t fit into the mould of conventional, toxic masculinity that others possess. In a place where there is only room for guns, Ram openly wields a gulab (rose). In a place where rage is the only acceptable emotion for a man, Ram dares to love. Director Sanjay Leela Bhansali comments on the bigotry involved in judging someone’s masculinity on the basis of preconceived notions. 

So when the worlds of two rebellious characters like Ram and Leela (Deepika Padukone) collide, sparks fly. But Bhansali never lets us forget the implications of their bond. Amidst every sexually charged and forbidden encounter between Ram and Leela, the gloomy shadow of a tragedy looms. For every declaration of love between the two, there is a simultaneous cry for war between their families. This brings the audience and the characters to an unfortunate impasse, something that left me questioning if it is possible to stay apolitical in a volatile climate like that in Ranjhaar. 

Soon enough, I had my answers. I perceive this movie as a bleak commentary on the journey of two people who get embroiled in a saga of hate-driven politics. They don’t see any stigma attached to their romance because, like Richa Chadha’s character said in one scene, love is “badtameez, besharam aur khudgarz” (incorrigible, shameless and selfish). Ram and Leela try their best to ensure their love isn’t tainted by politics, but the tragic death of both their brothers in a shootout threatens to colour their love with smears of rage. 

What transpires after that is a series of events that repeatedly iterate the futility of violence and war and how it seals the fate of Ram and Leela’s romance. After Ram’s friends betray him and successfully separate the two, he is perceived as a man of valour for ruining Leela’s reputation and is made the head of the Rajadis. In a chest-thumping speech, Ram announces himself as “Rajadiyon ka naya don”. One wonders if love has caved to contempt. But in a tender, heartbreaking scene after, Ram is crying alone in his room, unveiling the facade he had to put on to demonstrate his worth. Meanwhile, Leela has pledged her allegiance to Ram despite Dhankor Ba (Supriya Pathak) being keen on marrying her off to an NRI. She walks around restlessly, teary-eyed, reading out the cheesy texts Ram sent her, refusing to remove the ring from her hand unless the finger also comes off with it. 

After having bitterly decided to part ways as families at the Panchayat negotiation, Ram joins his hands and says “Dushmani nibhaayenge magar pyaar se” (We’ll fulfil our enmity with love). When multiple betrayals result in the slaughter of all the Rajadi men, Ram and Leela meet one last time as they decide that there is no place for them in a world like this. What makes an expected end heartbreaking is that it occurs because they were implanted in the feud against their will. Their love had ensconced itself amidst the hate, gradually transforming the barren land brimming with disdain into a place blooming with love. Unfortunately, there was no space for them in this new world either. But their love successfully ended a 500-year-long battle. The people understood the futility of their violence but by the time this realisation arrived, remnants of irreparable homes and broken people were all that remained. In this Indian adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, you are left ruminating about what could have been if only people learnt to express love as easily as they express hatred.