Kaksparsh

 

A Soul-Stirring Tribute to Women’s Silent Struggles

As the title Kaksparsh itself suggests, the film draws its essence from the significance of the crow’s touch (काकस्पर्श) in Hindu rituals like pind-daan and dashakriya vidhi. The movie beautifully connects this spiritual symbolism to a heart-wrenching story — the moment when, during Mahadev’s pind-daan, the “crow’s touch” transforms Uma’s entire life into an abyss of sorrow.

Set in pre-independence India, Kaksparsh powerfully depicts the tragic plight of widowed women — their lives stripped not just of dignity, but of the very right to exist peacefully. Watching the film, one cannot help but wonder: how terrifying was the history behind the freedom that women enjoy today?

Uma, widowed at just 14 or 15, lives a life devoid of any emotional or physical fulfillment. The agony of a woman who dies without ever experiencing love or intimacy is portrayed with haunting sensitivity. Priya Bapat delivers a brilliant performance as Uma, embodying the suffocating helplessness of widows in that era — when a woman without a husband was condemned by society itself.

Director Mahesh Manjrekar deserves immense credit for authentically recreating the mindset, rituals, and oppressive customs of those times. Watching the film, every sensitive viewer is bound to question: why doesn’t Hari — who clearly cares for Uma, who defies the Brahmin council, who rejects blind customs — go a step further and marry her? The answer, revealed in the climax, pierces straight through the heart.

Namu Aatya’s character is another gem — harsh-tongued yet boundlessly loving. At times she seems strict, yet her affection is as deep as the ocean. She is sure to win every viewer’s heart.

Hari’s elder brother, portrayed by Sachin Khedekar, is tough on the outside but tender within — a man of principles who keeps his word till the end. Protective of Uma, loyal to his friend Balwanta the freedom fighter, and brave enough to face social boycott, Khedekar’s performance is both powerful and moving.

Medha Manjrekar as Hari’s wife deserves equal praise — her portrayal perfectly embodies the strength and responsibility of the woman who holds the family together. The conversation between Uma and Namu Aatya, when the house is empty, is one of the most emotional scenes in the film.

When Uma realizes the cruel permanence of her widowhood, society’s predatory gaze strips her of dignity, and she begins to question her very right to live. At that moment, one recalls the ideological conflict between Tilak and Agarkar — and Agarkar’s view that “social reform must precede political reform” starts to feel profoundly true.

Why didn’t Hari remarry Uma? Why did she have to spend her youth yearning for love and affection? Kaksparsh answers these painful questions with such honesty that the story never once loses its balance or emotional intensity.

Every person must watch Kaksparsh at least once — to truly understand the long, painful journey that brought women’s “freedom” to where it stands today.