Baby Reindeer, the recent dark comedy on Netflix is one of my personal favourite projects, simply on account of the way it uses a story as an avenue for both catharsis and representation. It's hard to talk about trauma and abuse because most people in our lives, even the ones closest to us, aren't equipped to give us the care we need to feel safe. Where support is lacking, art really comes through as a helping hand; lending acceptance and safety. Donny, the protagonist of Baby Reindeer describes an unwelcome touch making him feel ‘non-human’. And while the words may slide under the radar of most people as unremarkable, victims of abuse know exactly what he means. And there's great value in it because being seen and understood when dealing with trauma is half the battle.

An underrated virtue of stories is when they allow you to project a little part of yourself onto a protagonist, even more so when this process allows you to accept your own trauma. Relying on the same, a homegrown music video about a sex worker aims to act as a beacon of solace for women struggling due to sexual exploitation. ‘Beqarari’ is a track addressing the terrifying trappings of sex work and the emotional toll it takes on those engaged in it.

An alienation from your own self; feeling like a stranger in your own body and losing the connection to your wants and needs after it's been violated repeatedly renders victims of sexual abuse stuck in survival mode. Most of their dreams are just immediate coping mechanisms instead of goals that drive regular people. When the team behind the music video visited Kamathipura to talk to the sex workers about their aspirations, they found the same: that the women had none. A future seems irrelevant when you’re fighting for your present. 

The single was sung by Aditi Raj, and composed by Ashish Zacharia. It's based on the popular ghazal, ‘Beqarari Si Beqarari Ha’i by Pakistani poet Jaun Elia, who is considered one of the masters of capturing the melancholy of the self. The song and the music video run parallel to each other in a story about loss and a grasping attempt to save yourself. The contrasting elements of trauma and hope are portrayed in the video through monochrome and coloured visuals that speak directly to the viewer as a thematic device. The music video is directed by Riddhi Talreja and produced by Gubbara Entertainment.

Like the protagonist in the video who finds some colour in her life on her day off, Kshmata is an NGO that facilitates care, training, and social reintegration for exploited women and victims of gender-based violence in order to help them lead a life of dignity and freedom. The artists partnered up with Kshmata for the single hoping to inspire other women who are trapped in sex work to seek help and envision a better life for themselves.

Beqarari is an important body of work that does justice to the delicate and triggering subject of sexual abuse. The narrative acknowledges the nature of sex work as a societal and emotional maze that's hard to get out of but still leaves room for the back door that very much exists if you can muster the resolve to seek freedom and safety.

You can learn out more about Kshmata and the work they do here.

Here's more from Homegrown:

Short Film ‘Highway Nights’ Holds A Mirror Up To Misogynistic Views Of Sex Work

An Indian Documentary Unravels The Horrors Of Patriarchal Violence Against Tribal Women

Pushtaini: Vinod Rawat's Debut Film Dissects Trauma, Ambition, & Exploitation