All That Breathes

Sen’s ‘All That Breathes’ feels like a short-haul journey into dystopia. It is a testament to the durable aspects of India’s capital: both its marginalised humans, battered by inhumane laws, and its majestic kites have learned to navigate their environment, seeking out sympathetic pockets. Brothers Nadeem Shehzaad and Mohammed Saoud, and their helper Salik, tend to injured kites, and other creatures, in their basement. It is crowded by rusted metal parts, as meat to feed the birds is grinded out in a machine that is falling to bits. It is a world like no other, in which these injured birds learn to submit to human hands which are raised only to heal. We worry about all that breathes, says one of the brothers, and instantly that statement feels like balm, especially in these polarised, inimical times.