A Review of Taangh (Longing) by Bani Singh
When we talk of the 1948 London Olympics, we often focus on the gold medal, the moment independent India defeated its former coloniser on their own turf. But Taangh, a documentary by filmmaker Bani Singh, asks a quieter, more painful question: What does it feel to give up your own ‘watan’ (homeland) for your nation? What was the price paid for the gold won that day?
The film begins by introducing the audience to Grahnandan “Nandy” Singh, the director’s father and a two-time hockey gold medalist. A debilitating stroke in 2014 had left Nandy Singh, then aged 84, unable to speak or move properly. As Bani observes her father struggling to regain his powers of speech and movement, she recognises the sportsman’s spirit in him, the champion that he was long before she was born. Nandy Singh was interested in life till the very end, even after he lost his beloved wife and felt as though there was no purpose left anymore. Despite grief and disability, he was constantly trying to stay afloat.
Curious about his past in pre-Partition Lahore, Bani picks up a camera and embarks on a journey that would span a good few years and take her across the border.
She finds Keshav Dutt, Balbir Singh, Khurram and Shehzada Shahrukh, all students of Government College, Lahore. Along with her father, they were the “Ravians”, a brotherhood that was violently torn apart by Partition.
This film beautifully illustrates how these athletes were forced to become refugees while simultaneously carrying the weight of a new nation’s rules and expectations. For the generation that Nandy Singh belonged to, the incredible victory of 1948 will forever be entwined with the baggage, pain and trauma of what they lost. Eventually, this immense love for a lost homeland hurt so much that silence was preferred.
The film shifts gear when Bani hears the name of Shehzada Shahrukh, whom her father had rarely mentioned before. He was Nandy Singh’s teammate in Lahore. During the riots of 1947, he had stayed up all night to protect his Hindu and Sikh friends, eventually helping them escape to India.
Bani Singh’s quest to find Shahrukh in Pakistan transforms Taangh from a biographical sports documentary to a quest for the lost “watan”. She visits Lahore, her father’s “beloved west Punjab”, where he grew up. When she shows him the footage later, he instinctively bows his head out of respect.
There are moments from the conversation with Shahrukh that melt hearts. “Yeh partition ne bade ustad barbaad kiye hain (This partition has ruined many great personalities),” he says at one point.
Meanwhile, the director’s daughter also learns about her “Nanu’s” homeland. When Bani Singh gets on a video call with her from Lahore, she says, “Mamma I gave a kiss to you in the air… and I said fly away to Pakistan.”
The word, “taangh”, means “longing” in Punjabi, and the film captures a certain ache that has remained since Partition. The director challenges the phenomenon of modern hyper-nationalism by showing a past where friendships were greater than borders and hate had no place among those who actually lived through the division of the two countries. In fact, Nandy Singh and his teammates never completely believed or processed that a thing such as Partition could even happen.
Taangh is a reminder that history is not about winners and losers, it is about the people left behind in the gaps between lines on a map and survivors who eventually never really were able to recover from or live a completely satisfied life. It is a moving saga that proves peace and humanity can endure, even when politicians and history books try to create a tormenting narrative or erase it altogether.
–Written by Anoushka Banerjee, 1st year, B.A. Hons. Film & New Media