There are so many reasons to watch Vishal Bhardwaj's latest movie Haider, the Shahid Kapoor starrer — a modern-day adaptation of Shakespeare's Hamlet.

Despite its cinematic gloss and compelling cast, Haider is an artistic display of chutzpah as far as a true depiction of the Kashmir conflict or the adaptation of Hamlet is concerned.

The first half of the film and the pre-release promotion targeted the liberal movie-goer, particularly Kashmiris as Bhardwaj claimed to make the film as close to the truth of the situation in Kashmir as possible, while portraying the protagonist from a human perspective.

Also read: Indian version of Hamlet faces Kashmir heat in Pakistan

Since Bhardwaj's Shakespearean adaptation is more about Kashmir than Hamlet, the viewer quickly gets to grips with the fractured twists and turns of the Bollywood version of both Kashmir and Shakespeare.

One can do without Horatio or bear with a suicidal and self-sacrificing Gertrude/Ghazala. However, since the director termed Kashmir as the Hamlet of his film, it is hard to imagine a Hamlet/Haider walking out without taking his revenge from Claudius.

And here, the fate of Bhardwaj's Haider is subtly revealed to a keen reader of Shakespeare or to an avid viewer.

The underlying message of the movie sort of departs from its Shakespearean theme of revenge as Gertrude/Ghazala (Tabu) is there only to warn Haider/Hamlet not to brood over his vengeance.

The humanist narrative gradually turns into the mouthpiece of the Indian State asking the 'militants' to lay down their weapons and embrace the 'democratic' process, adopting non-violence for 'revenge begets revenge' as Haider's grandfather and his mother frequently remind him.

In one scene, the issue of 8,000 missing Kashmiris is played down with the reference of displaced Kashmiri Pandits.

Yet, unlike the aggressive productions of the past, Haider does not shoot the audience point blank, rather it slightly goads them to come to terms with Claudius and sets the stage for Fortinbras.

The most intriguing feature of the film is perhaps the scriptwriter's fixation with the metaphor 'chutzpah' to entwine the 'separatist militancy' of 1995 in Kashmir and military excesses inflicted upon the masses through the AFSPA (Armed Forces Special Power Act).

Pronounced incorrectly but deliberately to make it sound like a local cuss word, the figure of speech somehow becomes the punch line of Haider's conflict or the situation of Kashmir.

Focusing this "chutzpah" through his lens, the director, inadvertently reveals not only the subtext of his own adapted plot but the ruthlessly capitalised tragedy of Kashmir by Bollywood directors, as well as the political actors of India and Pakistan.

In the backdrop of the recent diplomatic standoff and military skirmishes between India and Pakistan, the text and context of Haider may not go unnoticed by the discerning eyes of Kashmiri viewers, making the Yiddish term far more symbolic for the locals of the 'disputed' valley than Bhardwaj might have thought.

If it were not for the irony that bared it all at the London Million March, following the launch of Bhutto's political trilogy, or Narendra Modi's Diwali gift for the flood-affected Kashmiris, one would not have grasped the meaning implied in Bhardwaj's Shakespearean trilogy.

Also read: Haider: Shakespeare in Srinagar

With elections around the corner in Jammu and Kashmir, under the administration of the BJP campaigning for the resettlement of Kashmiri Pandits and the Indo-Pak 'aman ki asha' feeling pangs of despair, an audacious take on the 'Kashmir issue', be it cinematic or political should not surprise the Kashmiri 'audience' watching the show for a long time.

Cashing in on an evocative imagery of human suffering and political tension, the film rebuts its own narrative taking the moved audience by surprise as the end credits roll saluting the Indian Army for saving the lives of thousands of Kashmiris during the recent floods. How ironic!

Haider has been rated as a must-watch to know the real story of Kashmir but will the Indian state allow independent film-makers and press from other parts of the world to peep into the 'real' Kashmir freely?

Or is it just a subject reserved for celebrating Bollywood's chutzpah?