Satluj

A quiet hymn sung for the thousands of names in Punjab that the state machinery tried to wipe during the insurgency, director Honey Trehan tells the story of a god-fearing, resilient man who looked at a landscape of fear and chose not to look away. Armed with the fragile pages of municipal logs and the calculated weights of cremation firewood, he resurrects the disappeared, meticulously piecing together a forensic paper trail that strips away the senior police leadership’s complicity. For the uninitiated, Satluj (originally titled Panjab 95) chronicles the true-life crusade of social activist Jaswant Singh Khalra (Diljit Dosanjh), who risked his life to uncover thousands of secrets behind the state-sanctioned extrajudicial cremations in the 1990s when Punjab was on the boil.

Satluj opens with a chilling sequence which sets the tone of the film. It is pitch dark, a jeep full of joshing cops stops, pulls out a few men, their hands tied behind their backs, and shoots them dead. The casual cruelty that colours this shocking scene gives us, in a snapshot, the darkness that had engulfed Punjab in ’95, rolling over from the decades-long battle the state had waged against insurgency. Men, women, even children weren’t spared in this clean-up operation, which became a battle against ordinary citizens, who were rounded up and killed, their gutted bodies dumped in the river to be picked clean by hungry fish. It’s in this atmosphere of dread that Jaswant Singh Khalra (Diljit Dosanjh) steps in, and steps up, first as just a concerned individual asking about a disappearance, going to the local thana for help, receiving nothing but threats, and warnings to stay away. And then, slowly and steadily becoming the fulcrum of the fight against the massive human rights violations happening under the iron-fist of the Punjab police.

It began, absurdly enough, with a man washing his car. Jaswant Singh Khalra, a prominent human rights activist, was abducted on September 6, 1995 from outside his home in Amritsar and was never seen or heard from again. Despite eyewitnesses and mounting public pressure, almost a year passed without a breakthrough. What exactly happened to Khalra? Did he become a ghost and vanish into the frosty Punjab night? Did he find employment as a wage worker in Europe or America, as the cops tend to insist? Or did he join the thousands of young men—deemed ‘disappeared’ and murdered in extrajudicial killings—whose cause Khalra had made his life’s mission?