If there is one word that can be used to describe Indus Echoes — Rahul Aijaz’s directorial debut and the first Sindhi feature film to be made and released in Pakistan in over three decades — it would be haunting.

A second phrase that comes to mind is ‘endless despair’, because that’s what the film seems intent on communicating.

Indus Echoes is divided into four acts, with characters in each act seemingly separate yet joined together by their connection to the River Indus. The film, finished entirely in sepia tones, perhaps to represent the despair each character is feeling, opens with an air of intrigue and mystery.

Indus Echoes, the first Sindhi feature film to be released in Pakistan in over three decades, is a beautiful film that speaks the loudest in the quiet spaces scattered throughout this production

The Indus River straddles a desert landscape. A man is suspiciously making his way out of the river. He’s confronted by another, standing on top of a mound of sand on the river bank, who holds up a wallet he has found and tells the one getting out of the water, “He is a fool who leaves evidence at a crime scene.” The latter approaches with caution and we eventually see that they know each other.

They talk about their land being taken over by outsiders. An altercation happens. Someone ends up dead and abandoned.

One of the acts has a pair of fishermen, down on their luck, trying to make ends meet through a river with barely any fish, and further beaten down by a system of taxation and governance that is not designed to benefit them. Like much of the other characters, they are caught between holding on to their ancestral vocation or moving on — perhaps to Karachi. “Do you know how they treat Sindhis in Karachi?” one of them relates how his grandmother would respond to such a situation.

We have a poet drowning in despair and ennui, and a woman deeply connected to the land and trying to keep her family’s legacy alive. They talk about how things are no longer as good as they used to be and the loss of hope that they’re experiencing. “It doesn’t feel like we’re alive,” feels the poet. While the poet eventually decides to move on, his female companion chooses to stay.

Our heroine from the previous act is sharing memories of the river with another character. They decide to venture down to it. A body is found. No one wants to deal with it. “Nothing will change here,” says the woman about why she feels nobody will help with the body.

A lot is said in the Indus Echoes without saying much. There are so many issues the film touches upon. There is the threat of displacement and disenfranchisement of the local populace with ‘outsiders’ unconnected to the land coming in to exploit it. There is the racism experienced by Sindhis in a more developed city in their own province. There is the local governance that is either nonexistent or which only serves to exploit the poor. And there is the feeling of being caught in a changing time and an endless struggle to survive.

And with worryingly low water levels, dwindling fish stock, empty and abandoned boats, the Indus is shown as a river that is sick and dying — much like our characters, whether they are in that state physically or spiritually. There is an air of endless struggle, just to survive, knowing fully well that no help is coming.

Three actors play multiple roles throughout the film, yet are cleverly concealed (at least when it comes to the male characters). Vajdaan Shah, Ansaar Mahar and Samina Seher carry the whole film on their shoulders and the way they morph into different characters comes across as effortless. I went back and forth between acts to determine whether the same actor really was playing another character — that’s how cleverly they were disguised.

The film has been produced by Tanveer Hossain and Rahul Aijaz. It has been executive produced by well-known Pakistani actor Shamoon Abbasi, along with Akhtiar Ali Kalwar, Vajdaan Shah, Zaid Aziz and Mohammad Kamran Jawaid. South Korea-based Canadian filmmaker Paul Battle is the post-production producer, co-editor (with Rahul Aijaz) and sound designer, whereas Ecuadorian filmmaker Saulo Aroca Rosas is the colourist. Quite the global conglomeration of filmmakers.

The cinematography is beautiful. There are spaces in the frames that show the endless beauty of the desert-river landscape of Sindh. At times, the action in the film takes place within one singular still frame that is beautiful in its artistry. The sound design is such that there is a constant, low howl of wind echoing through each of the acts — connecting them, at times, like almost a whisper.

The only critique one has for Indus Echoes is that it could be a tad shorter. By the end of the third act, one begins to lose interest and it starts to become a little repetitive. Overall, however, Indus Echoes is a beautiful film and one that speaks the loudest in the quiet spaces scattered throughout this production. Indus Echoes is slated to hit cinemas in Pakistan soon.

Released by Anthem Films, Indus Echoes (Sindhu Ji Goonj) is rated “U” (suitable for audiences of all ages) by the Sindh Board of Film Censors

Published in Dawn, ICON, February 2nd, 2025