Short film ‘Kaur’ manages to start a complex discussion by zoning into an intimate conversation between father and daughter. Not only does it shine the spotlight on young British Sikhs today, grappling with traditional and cultural ideas, but it also puts a feminist spin on the debate by centring around a young woman, Avani, and her desire to wear a turban against her father’s wishes.
In the past year, I have been trying to delve into Sikhi more myself but have struggled to reconcile my perceived modern British upbringing and the traditional Sikhi practised and preached in Panjab. This was presented to me directly when I went to Panjab for the first time in March. However, what I discovered was summed up at the beginning of ‘Kaur,’ and maintained throughout.
‘He who regards all men as equal is religious’
Guru Nanak Dev Ji
Upon my research prior to flying out, it struck me that this was the core teaching of Sikhi, and that if one lives with this assertion, one is a true Sikh.
Avani argues that it is her connection to her faith that encourages her to wear a turban. Can she be a dedicated Sikh, and not have a turban? Her mother seems to think so. ‘Cutting your hair doesn’t mean that your faith is any less worthy than anyone else’s’ opines Avani’s mum. The relationship between Avani and her mother highlights the value and worth of female solidarity, and although Panjabi culture appears predominantly patriarchal, it still harbours a strong matriarchal presence.
Avani’s mothers’ statement concerning her daughter’s hair felt particularly validating, as part of the reason there is divide between the old and the young is because of judgment. While it is taught in schools that Sikh = turban, quite literally, the nuance of our religion is forgotten. Being a member of the Khalsa dictates that you should not cut your hair, as set up by Guru Gobind Singh Ji. Guru Nanak Dev Ji’s Sikhism did not include this detail. Both are equally valid.
I would argue that some of the older generations do not subscribe to Avani’s mum’s sentiments. I tell myself this when I get criticised for not having a turban, and this poignant quote is also affirmed by Guru Nanak’s teaching detailed at the start of the film. From my perspective, sometimes it feels like the older generations forget the core teachings and scripture of Sikhi, and this is echoed at the start of the film. Guru Nanak Dev Ji preached charity, equality, on all accounts, and earning an honest living to provide for family. The way that we treat those around us surely is evidence of our faith, it should not be measured solely by the length of our hair.
It is important to remember that Avani’s fathers’ concerns come from a place of love, and this is key to the story. It is not judgement, or sexism, he is purely concerned for her welfare. He argues against her decision because of the racial abuse and violence he suffered when coming to this country, which climaxed in school bullies cutting off his hair. My own family when they moved here suffered racial abuse, and the effect of it is still felt by some of them today. I have detailed in other posts that, perhaps in different forms, racism does still exist in society, so it is understandable that Avani’s father shows apprehension.
It is Avani’s generation that is pushing into the unknown more than ever. I am sure that we all have examples of times when our grandparents did not, or could not, understand our chosen path. It may not mean that they loved us any less, but it took them extra understanding and adapting to something that to us, felt normal growing up today.
‘Kaur’ also demonstrates that generational trauma is ever-present. Avani tries to convince her father to see his point of view, but he maintains that he cannot support her decision. Perhaps Avani’s father will only come round once he sees Avani thrive in her new life, free from harm and discrimination. Perhaps the only way to heal generational trauma is to let the next generation fly, and hope that history does not repeat itself. It is a lot to ask the older generation who experienced this kind of abuse to let it go, and it will take work and understanding for them to work through this fear.
In a patriarchal Panjabi culture, the film does well to put women at the centre of the piece, especially considering it is tackling the issue of a turban, something that is largely associated with men. The fact that the short is named ‘Kaur,’ meaning ‘princess,’ tells us from the start that this will be a female-centric story. Although there has been progression, old fashioned views on female roles, especially within Panjab, do persist, and seeing a woman wearing a turban on platforms like ITVX and Netflix does shed light on a marginalised, minority group. The story reminded me of media personality and life coach Harnaam Kaur. Kaur is a Sikh woman who wears a turban and has a beard. Kaur has a beard due to polycystic ovary syndrome, which encourages excessive hair growth, and because of her faith she stopped cutting it off. She received online bullying and abuse for her appearance, and I remember reading about her story as early as 2014/2015. I could see nothing wrong with her appearance, and hopefully Kaur will help to normalise women with turbans and facial hair.
Avani’s father makes the universal comment that there is a ‘price to pay for being different.’ While Avani’s father specifically talks about wearing a turban, this can be applied to anyone, of any faith, colour, class, creed, or sexuality. Being different isn’t easy, but I always felt that Sikhi and its teachings on equality worked to eliminate that. Equality is a core part of Sikhi, and despite all the characteristics listed above, Guru Nanak Dev Ji preached that we are all born equal.
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