2014 was a landmark year in Indian politics. And a turning point in the realities of Indian culture. Wrapped in the promise of hope, India chose hate, legitimised majoritarian supremacy, and welcomed the idea of religious intolerance. Frustrated with a continued economic crisis, India chose to ignore the past of a leader seeped in violence, and chose him as a messiah, who would continue to shape the landscape of unchecked Hindu supremacist violence that was to continue, even ten years later. 

Rajkumar Hirani’s PK was released that year. The film looked at religious intolerance as a whole, but put under the magnifying glass the machinery of self-appointed Hindu ‘gurus’ as the rulers of religion. With an intelligent tool of using an alien to point out the absurdities and eccentricities that is India, it threw into sharp relief arbitrary rules made by the custodians of religion, and the ploy they use to wield unchecked power over believers.

PK makes one think about the unsaid. And yet blunts its message in the end. However, within that blunting is an insightful truth—the idea of belief, for a people who have seen the culture of depravity up close and continue to fight for survival. With living costs becoming higher, healthcare steadily getting out of reach, lack of jobs, and scarce opportunities, it is difficult to expect a people to believe in themselves. Then they rest their beliefs in the intangible—in a God that they believe holds answers and some respite from their struggles. In recent times, the word ‘manifest’— which became Cambridge Dictionary’s word of the year—replaces the idea of God with the idea of the universe. But it still holds in its interpretation the idea of a higher intangible power, beyond that of humans or human actions; a power, which can be trusted to grant us what we desire or what is good for us.

'Godmen' take advantage of this faith, belief and vulnerability. And therein lies PK’s power.  It exposes the constant lies and comfortable narratives peddled by them to retain their hold over the vulnerable. PK displays bravery in showcasing the targeting of Muslims by Hindus. When Tapasvi Maharaj (played to nauseating perfection by Saurabh Shukla), questions PK’s name as Parvez Khan, or brands him a Muslim to create an enemy, or even towards the end of the film when the Muslim community is blamed for a terror attack, the film points towards the blatant targeting of the ostracised minority community. The political truth of this is hard to ignore. And it shouldn’t be ignored either, given that this divide has been mainstreamed in India as Muslims continue to live in fear. It is this convenient demonisation and legitimacy of ‘othering’ that has once again opened the doors for ‘investigation’ under yet another mosque at Sambhal, reminding us forcibly of the Babri Masjid demolition of 1992, and the subsequent court verdict in 2019.

The fact that religion is a lucrative business is beautifully shown in the film. And what it preys on is hope, fear and vulnerability. Powerfully simple scenes of placing a rock and painting it with red (from paan) at a college where exams are starting and comparing the business to that of a tea seller, force viewers to step out of their own irrationality as believers of religion. The film throws up an important existential question about religion: who created whom and who protects whom? For believers: how can humans choose to protect that power? PK fell short of completely questioning the very idea of religion, but chose to question the mindlessness of belief, and its complete departure from reason. It is this irrationality that has made us even more intolerant of religions, which are different from the one we choose to follow. That intolerance ten years on is more violent, systemic and systematic.

However, what PK does very well is to showcase the idea of belief that is used by multiple religions to further their own gain. Whether it is the oppressive fatwas that impede girls from studying, or forcible conversions. The use of fear as a baton to hold age-old power structures of patriarchy and supremacy in place are portrayed extremely well, indicating how in present times, religion is used merely as a tool to oppress. PK also shows how belief is reduced to rituals created by self-appointed rulers of that religion, which uses it to divide believers from ‘true believers'.

The fact that PK was a successful film, and no protests erupted upon its release, are indicators of an India that was tolerant and willing to stomach its own critique when it came to religion. Can we honestly say that this is possible, ten years on? What would happen if PK would’ve tried to see the light of day today? Scientific temper, the ability to question, reason, critique have all been muted in the last ten years. This is why we need another braver PK to appear onscreen.

The big question remains: Is that possible in a divided, decaying social construct today?