Mita Vasisht has an indomitable image of an independent and strong-minded woman on screen. In real life, too, she is a reflection of all that and much more. Meet her and, in an instance, the realisation dawns that the lady speaks her mind. “Being an actor allows me to have many lives. It is a constant engagement and exploration of life and makes the job of connecting with strangers easier,” she says, addressing a gathering organised by the Ladies Study Group in Kolkata recently.
“Now the word ‘actress’ is facing extinction and all of us are referred as ‘actor’. Somehow, I don’t enjoy this blurring of genders. I have noticed that as a woman, I am constantly buying definitions about myself,” adds the actress as an afterthought.
Recalling her childhood days, she says, “I was six years old and I had a disagreement with my mother over the choice of dress for a birthday party. And, in a fit of anger, I ran away from home. Thankfully, in those days, Delhi was much more friendlier. A neighbour spotted me and I was brought home. That was a first in many such storming-out-of-home episodes.”
Vasisht counts herself lucky that her perpetual habit didn’t land her in a potential risk zone, yet she stresses on the fact that many children, who run away from home, end up as victims of child trafficking. “Urban kids are usually street smart. They don’t fall in the trap. It is the rural children who are most vulnerable and become easy preys. Most run away from home to avoid poverty or family squabbles. They fall in the age group of nine to 13 years,” she says.
“Another reason is that, our culture and heritage that trace their roots to rural India are dying a slow death. Our farmers, weavers and craftsmen are facing abject poverty and naturally they are failing to sustain their creativity. Their survival is at stake and sensing the bleak future ahead of them, their children have little option but to head to the cities. Sadly, the urban dream turns out to be a myth for most and a nightmare for quite a few of them. They end up as traffic minors,” she says.
Vasisht had committed herself to a two-day theatre workshop for Akshara, a women resource centre. But her expertise and interest made sure that the duration stretches to four years. “The experience gave me a chance to have a closer look and helped build a greater understanding of issues like human trafficking. Theatre was used as a medium to let them vent their emotions,” she recalls.
Her outlook on the subject has also taken a creative shape in the form of a documentary, Summer Moon. “It is a 40-minute documentary focusing on the young women rescued from the brothels. They have found shelter in a remand home and are picking the pieces of their lives. Sadly, even after the rescue act, the stigma remains. Summer Moon provides an insight into the minds of these traumatised women,” says Vasisht.