Lakshmi and Me

The 2007 documentary Lakshmi and Me offers an intimate exploration into the dynamic of Indian society’s class system and unfurls the lives of countless domestic workers who exist in the shadows of India's urban middle-class households.

Premiered at the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam in 2007, the documentary engenders a profound imagery of everyday struggles, experiences and dreams of domestic help in India. Filmmaker Nishtha Jain, known for her incisive commentary on gender and social inequality, is at the helm of this gripping narrative where the camera serves as a medium of interaction and introspection.

The central to the story is Lakshmi, a bright-eyed 21-year-old woman from the rural hinterland of Karnataka who works as a housemaid in Mumbai. The film delves into Lakshmi’s life journey in the metropolis, which is dominated by her Sri Lankan employer and filmmaker Nishtha Jain herself. This employer-employee relationship forms the emotional core of the documentary.

The film not only focuses on Lakshmi’s daily routine —her house-cleaning chores, or preparing meals, but it also bravely intrudes into her personal space. Viewers are privy to her dreams, desires, vulnerabilities, relationships and struggles as a young woman in a big city. We also gain access to her colorful interactions with her lively circle of friends who, like her, are domestic workers too. Simultaneously, Lakshmi’s life serves as a glimpse into the lives of millions of Indian women from rural areas who leave their homes behind to earn a living in the bustling cities.

Throughout the unfolding narrative, the camera’s unflinching gaze also forces the filmmaker, Nishtha Jain, and by extension the viewers, to confront their privileged obliviousness. The film prompts introspection regarding the societal norms and hierarchies that enable such stark contrasts to exist side by side.

As the personal and professional dynamics between Lakshmi, the domestic help, and Jain, the employer, unfold, the film poignantly examines the ambivalent relationship between household helps and their employers in India. It raises thought-provoking questions about the boundaries of these relationships, exploring how deep affection can co-exist with pronounced economic and social disparity, creating a cognitive dissonance that is both puzzling and glaring. It coerces us to confront the lax attitudes and glaring disparities that permeate throughout these intimate yet stratified relationships and invite us to question our own complicity and responsibility in this intricate web of social order and hierarchy.

Straddling the line between an intimate personal narrative and a broader socio-cultural commentary, the film also subtly yet powerfully explores themes like poverty, migration, urbanization, and women's rights.

Lakshmi and Me offers a moving portrayal of the daily struggles and aspirations of India’s invisible workforce. It navigates the emotional landscape of its subjects with sensitivity, while also shining a light on the stark economic and social disparities that are deeply ingrained in Indian society. Nishtha Jain, through her sensitive storytelling, brings to the foreground not only the invisible lives but the invisible socio-economic disparities as well, henceforth pushing the viewers to assess and evaluate their role and position within this complex system.

The film’s strength lies in its dual role as a personal and social document. On the one hand, viewers are granted an intimate, insider's view into Lakshmi's life, and on the other hand, they are compelled to confront the uncomfortable truths about the omnipresent caste and class inequities in modern Indian society.

A definitive departure from the glossed versions of India, this 2007 documentary provides an informed, insightful, and deeply moving depiction of the class-based societal structure, economic disparities, friendship, and the human desire to dream, irrespective of socio-economic positioning.

To conclude, Lakshmi and Me is a nuanced and uncomfortable portrayal of India’s urban middle-class households through the lens of its invisible workforce. It richly serves as a relevant exploration and critique of social hierarchies, posing uncomfortable questions to viewers about complicity and complacency in the face of stark socio-economic disparities. The film ultimately provides a stark reminder of the inescapable human connection that binds us all together despite our socio-economic disparities. It invites us to introspect, reflect and inspire change.