Aideu Handique: A life sacrificed to cinema

Jilmil Jonak Kashyap

(Miranda House, University of Delhi)

The journey from Panidihingia to the history of Assamese cinema was never meant to be taken by a sixteen-year-old girl. And yet Aideu Handique, born to the humble family of Nilambar and Malakhi Handique in 1915, became the woman who opened the doors of Assamese cinema. only to find herself locked out of society forever. Her story is one of breaking barriers, but more significantly, of the immense cost of being the first to cross a line marked by society.

The Journey that Changed Everything

In the remote villages of Golaghat in the 1930s, a young girl’s universe hardly ever ventured beyond her family and village. Aideu lived in this world until the day that Dimba Gohain came with an intriguing offer. He spoke of things she had never dreamt of, such as a metal abode that floated on water. To a teenager whose biggest adventure had been journeys to the local market, the possibility of seeing a ship was irresistible.

What Gohain didn’t reveal to her was that this trip would not end at the riverbank but in Jyotiprasad Agarwala’s makeshift film studio at Bholaguri Tea Estate. Agarwala, the visionary who wanted to create the first-ever Assamese film, had scoured the length and breadth of Assam for an actress. He had placed advertisements in newspapers, visited villages, and pleaded with families. But the traditional conservative Assamese society at the time made his search impossible; no respectable woman would be willing to act in a film.

When Aideu realized that she had been deceived, her tears ran freely and she threw tantrums.

The petrified girl begged to go home, overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of her surroundings and the calibre of the work she was asked to do. It took Agarwala’s telegram to her father and hours of persuasion to convince her to stay. She agreed to work on what she believed would be a small, insignificant project, without realizing she was to become an unwilling pioneer.

Becoming Joymoti

Under Agarwala’s guidance at Chitraban Studio, the inexperienced village girl began her transformation into an actress. Agarwala, who had studied filmmaking at Germany’s prestigious UFA studios, understood the essence of an authentic performance; it required a personal understanding of the character’s story and, most importantly, nurturing. He taught her the particulars of acting on-screen, from movements to expressions and speech.

The story they were bringing to the silver screen had profound importance in Assamese culture. Joymoti, the Ahom princess who endured torture rather than revealing her husband’s location, was the face of loyalty and sacrifice among the Assamese people. For Aideu, playing the role of this legendary figure meant more than just memorizing lines. She had to understand the weight of Joymoti’s choices and sacrifice.

The production was a marvel in itself. The Bholaguri estate became the birthplace of Assamese cinema. Agarwala had converted the space into a film studio, complete with sound recording equipment and processing laboratories. The dedication was admirable, and he refused any compromises.

Despite having never seen a film and having no professional acting experience, Aideu’s natural talent shone through. Her portrayal of Joymoti was marked by an authenticity that tugged at one’s heartstrings. She brought a genuine understanding of the sacrifice and suffering of her character, not knowing this suffering would mirror her own.

Success and Sorrow

When Joymoti premiered on March 10, 1935, it meant far more than entertainment to the Assamese people. The film was a declaration of independence, proof that Assamese stories deserved to be told on the silver screen. At a time when Hindi and Bengali films dominated theatres, Agarwala’s creation stood as a testament to the richness of Assamese culture and the power of authentic storytelling.

Aideu’s performance earned widespread praise from audiences who recognised both her natural talent and her courage in taking on such a challenging role. Critics noted the dignity she brought to the character and the way she embodied Joymoti’s strength without losing the vulnerability that made the princess human. For a moment, it seemed that the young actress had achieved something remarkable.

But the applause from audiences could not protect her from the judgement of those closest to her home. The girl who had left Panidihingia as a curious teenager returned as something society had no place for: a woman who had acted in films. And in the conservative rural Assam of the 1930s, this was viewed not as an artistic achievement but as a moral offence.

A Painful Homecoming

The ostracisation began the moment she returned to her village. The neighbours who had watched her grow up now looked at her with disgust. They had heard about her performance, about the way she had spoken to male actors, and about the intimacy required by her role. To their eyes, the distinction between acting and reality was meaningless; she had stayed with men who were not her husband, and this was beyond forgiveness.

The social boycott was instant and merciless. She and her family faced complete isolation, with villagers even refusing to share water from the same pond. This humiliation was so overwhelming that her own parents did not wish to have her in their home. They built a small shed behind their house where their daughter, the first star of Assamese cinema, was forced to live in isolation.

The cruellest blow was the immediate end to any prospects of marriage. In a society where a woman’s primary value was measured by her marriageability, Aideu found herself permanently excluded from this aspect of life. All because she had called her co-star, assuming the role of her character’s husband, Bongohordeo. No man would consider taking as his wife a woman who referred to someone else as her husband. The woman who had portrayed the ultimate symbol of a wife’s devotion and loyalty was condemned to never experiencing marriage herself.

The Years of Isolation

What followed was not merely social rejection but a complete erasure from the industry she had helped create. For decades, Aideu lived in poverty and isolation while Assamese cinema grew across the land. She never received another significant film role, despite having proven her talent.

The world had moved on, leaving behind the woman who lent a hand for its progress.

The financial hardships were constant and debilitating. With no steady income and little support from family, she survived on occasional goodwill from strangers and whatever small work she could find. Her living conditions remained poor throughout her life, a stark contrast to the gradually improving status of the actresses who followed in her footsteps.

Perhaps the most heartbreaking aspect was her complete disconnection from the art form she had pioneered. She never saw her own performance in Joymoti until 1985, fifty years after its premiere. The film faced distribution challenges and commercial hardships, without many screenings in Assam. When she finally witnessed her work, she was watching as a stranger, a young girl whose single moment of courage had proven to be a curse.

The Late Recognition

By the time acknowledgement finally arrived in 1985 amidst the golden jubilee celebrations of Assamese cinema, Aideu was already 70 years old. The honours she received were humble but meaningful; this included a wheelchair from the East Indian Motion Picture Association, a monthly pension of Rs 1,500 from the Assam Government, and a few institutions bearing her name.

But these gestures could not recoup what was lost: the potential of a family and the mere need to be treated as a human being.

Her nomination for the Padma Shri was rejected because she had acted in only one film, an administrative decision that exposed how little people knew about what it meant to be first in a whole tradition. This was just another instance of society constantly downplaying her contribution, even when trying to honour it.

The most noteworthy artistic tribute came years later with the 2007 biographical film Aideu (Behind the Screen), which was awarded the Best Feature Film in Assamese at the 54th National Film Festival. But Aideu had passed away in 2002, never to see this cinematic portrayal of her extraordinary and tragic life.

The Legacy of a Pioneer

When Aideu Handique died on December 17, 2002, at the age of 87, she took with her the memory of what it truly costs to be the first. She never married, never had children, and never knew many of the pleasures that others took for granted. Her sacrifice was severe and irreversible, a life devoted entirely to a cause she had never chosen to defend.

Today, when successful careers and social recognition are common among the modern Assamese actors, they tread a path paved by a woman who sacrificed everything for their freedom. In the 90 years since the birth of the Assamese film industry, the transformation of attitudes that took place is both remarkable and tragic. Aideu had lived to witness the very walls that had ruined her life pulverised for others but forever remained trapped behind them herself.

Her tale, more than a part of cinema history, represents the larger battle of women who defy social norms. The Aideu Handique memorial award, schools that bear her name, and many cultural programmes ensure that her sacrifice is not forgotten. These tributes recognise not only her role in establishing Assamese cinema but also her personification of the kind of courage needed for social change.

Ultimately, Aideu Handique’s best performance was not recorded on film but lived in the dignity with which she survived seven decades of isolation. She was not only the first actress of Assamese film but also its first martyr, a woman who sacrificed everything so that others could enjoy the freedom to chase their ambitions without having to pay as high a price. Her life remains a testament to the fact that progress often requires individual sacrifice and that all those who gain from social change owe an immeasurable debt to those who made it possible.