Why did Divya and Devika “Look” into the Mirror?
#reflections
The mirror has always been an inevitable part of all good literature across the ages, endowed with rich symbolism, exemplifying the duality between the observer and their reflection - the divide between the ‘self’ and the ‘other.’
That’s hence, in literature and in films, characters looking into mirrors are often shown confronting their divided sense of self! The reflection acts as a doppelganger or the ‘Jungian shadow’ – symbolising a physical manifestation of internal guilt, hidden desires, or a fractured sense of self!
One reason why, feminist literary criticism looks upon the mirror as an instrument of the male gaze, and women in literature are often depicted as “trapped by their reflections”.
Now, let’s together do an analysis on how the mirror functions as a divide between the ‘self’ and the ‘other’, in Mani Ratnam’s 1986 milestone film titled, Mouna Ragam (Silent Symphony).
Yes, I am an avid fan of Mani Ratnam! 😊
Mouna Ragam follows the life of Divya, a spirited and vibrant young woman (privately grieving the tragic death of her former lover, Manohar), who is pressurised by her family into an arranged marriage with Chandrakumar. Not able to resist the marriage because of family pressures, she forces herself to marry Chandrakumar against her wishes and desires!
During her marriage rituals, the women surrounding her are busy taking care of the habituated societal rituals that connect with womanhood and marriage. However, Divya’s gaze is locked onto the mirror, entirely detached from the beehive of activity that’s happening all around her. The scene beautifully mirrors her own fractured identity amidst an environment that is trying to define and dictate her life for her.
After their marriage, she has to relocate to Delhi with her husband. Here, Divya remains emotionally detached from Chandrakumar, and inspite of Chandrakumar’s repeated attempts at being kind and empathetic to her, and even wishes to surprise her with a wedding gift, she shocks him by asking for a divorce as her wedding gift.
In this scene, we find Divya all alone in Delhi, curled defensively, clutching her knees and trying to look toward the mirror. Here, the mirror reflects a wounded individual forced to confront her own helplessness and alienation – her fractured sense of self!
In fact, P. C. Sreeram’s masterful cinematography deserves kudos here, for making the mirror as an effective semiotic tool all through the film. The mirror is strategically used to articulate the internal conflict, and the unspoken trauma of the protagonist, Divya.
I suggest that you watch the film to relive these particular scenes.
There’s also this mirror scene where Chandrakumar is shown standing at the dressing table while Divya is seen in the background – a beautiful picture of framing ‘psychological alienation’.
Rather than framing them side-by-side in the room, Maniratnam pans the camera towards the mirror to create this deep psychological distance. Chandrakumar is in the active foreground, preparing for the day, while Divya is relegated to the distant background reflection, appearing passive, withdrawn, and physically small. What a beautiful framing of “spatial alienation!”
The director here makes us visualise the profound disconnect in their shared domestic life. They are together in the reflection, but poles apart in reality, thus “mirroring” the vast psychological gap between them.
Towards the end, there are two redeeming scenes of the protagonist Divya. They capture a profound shift in the psychological transition from a sense of alienation to a profound sense of reconciliation. If you carefully observe here, you will notice that for the first time she smiles looking at herself in the mirror, and then she turns away from the mirror into reality!
What a memorable frame! 😊
Hats off to the director and to the cinematographer for these memorable frames!
Finally, coming to our next film –
I would like to analyse the 2022 Malayalam film titled, Teacher.
The movie Teacher is about the protagonist Devika a physical education teacher who is shown leading a quiet life with her husband, Sujith. One morning, she wakes up completely disoriented. As she pieces together the hazy events of the previous day, she makes a horrifying discovery - she was drugged and sexually assaulted by a group of college students, who had also filmed the crime on their mobiles. The crisis aggravates when Devika finds out that she is pregnant. She eventually breaks her silence and confesses the assault to her husband.
However, instead of offering his empathy, Sujith reacts with anger and disgust. Then, prioritising his family’s honour and reputation in society, he outright refuses to father the child and asks her to keep quiet rather than go to the police. However, Devika refuses to be a passive victim. She finds an unexpected pillar of support in her mother-in-law, Kalyani - a firebrand veteran activist, who encourages Devika to stop hiding in shame and to fight back against her abusers. Having externalised her rage and faced her trauma head-on, Devika realises her own inner strength.
Quite interestingly, Devika from Vivek’s Teacher (2022) has a lot of interesting convergences and divergences with Divya from Mani Ratnam’s Mouna Ragam (1986).
Both Divya and Devika grapple with an intense internal conflict! However, what differs is the nature of the trauma and how they respond or react to it!
Hence, Divya’s silence could connote withdrawal and passive resistance, while Devika’s silence here could symbolise her sense of shock and shame at being violated.
Staring into the mirror then becomes an act of facing the trauma head-on, refusing to avert her eyes, in order to shatter the “victim” identity that’s been forced upon her.
The director, in a subtle and masterful frame, tells his viewers that, Devika’s healing cannot come through passive acceptance. She must actively face her deep sense of shock and shame that has been forced upon her, by transitioning from a traumatised victim into an active, vengeful agent. Her intense internal conflict is only resolved when she externalises her rage.
This frame here when she looks at herself in the mirror, happens just before she externalises her rage against her attackers.
To conclude then, whether it is Divya or Devika, as regards films, the mirror has always served as a rich hermeneutic space, reflecting the trauma of the divided self!
For both the women, the mirror is not only symbolic of victimhood, but also the pathway to healing, reconciliation, or reclamation or even rebellion, whatever the case may be, in order to piece themselves back together!
James Baldwin’s lovely quote I’m sure would be apt to sign off on this post -
Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.
Lovely, ain’t it? 😊

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