Picture this:

You are watching the IPL semi-final match, and the excitement has really whetted your appetite. No time or inclination to fix lunch, so you order food from your favourite restaurant. You are waiting for the order to be delivered. The app shows it has been 15 minutes since pick-up, so why has it not been delivered yet? You call the delivery boy again and again, but he doesn’t pick up. Your temper is slowly reaching the boiling point. When the guy comes with the order, a good half an hour later, you blast him- left and right. How dare he keeps you hungry and waiting! You rate him lowest on the app, without even hearing why his phone was unreachable. He is not able to tell you that he was caught by the police for speeding and crossing on the wrong side of the road, roughed up, and he has just paid a hefty penalty. He is trying to maximize deliveries for getting better ratings.

It was just a delayed delivery for you. It spoils your mood. But….your low rating might cost him his job.

The people around us!

Nandita Das’ Zwigato isn’t an easy film to watch. It talks about the people who are around us, yet are invisible. The delivery person, the cleaner, the driver you hire, the masseur, the security guard, the cook or household help. They are the backbone of our lives, without whom our lives wouldn’t run smoothly. (Remember when they had to stay away during the pandemic?)

Yet, how much do we know about them, their daily struggles and their striving to earn a decent living?

The common man’s struggle

Manas Mahato, an app delivery man, played superbly with restraint by Kapil Sharma, reminds you of the many instances when you have snubbed the delivery person, or shouted at him for being late, denied him/her suitable ratings – a privilege that money gives you. The app calls him a delivery “partner”, but does he have any agency, at all? His performance and earnings are decided by you. The customer’s clicks and rates. The app keeps him on constant tenterhooks, dangling a carrot in front of him while hurting him where it hurts the most.

Braving the elements, and dangerous traffic, he brings you your order, sometimes having no time to feed himself. He cringes when his children feel embarrassed to introduce him to their friends. What self-respect is he left with, at the end of the day, when the only thing that matters in his job is the whimsical customer’s rating?

His home is kept running by his remarkably level-headed wife. The powerhouse actor Shahana Goswami lives the role of Pratima, who has the unenviable task of keeping the family together while trying to add to the family kitty. Reminds you that the mall cleaner – who picks your trash, is a person with dreams and hopes. And a family to provide for. That uniform, that opportunity to escape household drudgery, and that steady payment matter so much to her.

The underbelly of digitized India

With Zwigato, we see the dark underside of the “India shining” story. People who lost their livelihood in the pandemic, did measly jobs to feed themselves and their families. Desperately fleeing from debt, many of them opted to exit the world with their families. Reminds us of the busted “achhe din” dream that was supposed to light up everyone’s lives, not just a select few.

The pandemic deepened the divide between the haves and the have-nots. While the privileged have continued life as usual – with perhaps a few knocks here and there, for some, life has changed irrevocably. They are the ones that this film talks about.

Watch it for the superlative performance of the lead actors, that doesn’t look like acting at all. For brave hearts like Nandita Das, who – defying box-office demands, opts to tell a deglamorized, non-dramatic, run-of-the-mill story, just to show a mirror to a skewed world order, where pets have access to lifts, but domestic helpers have to use the back entrance or service lifts.

And yes, the ending does feel convenient, but is there any other option?