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How Rahul Sadasivan Redefined Malayalam Horror — Explained

If you look at Bhoothakaalam, Bramayugam, and Dies Irae, you will immediately notice something different, this is not the usual horror. Rahul Sadasivan brings a new kind of fear into Malayalam cinema, one built on psychology, silence, and emotional depth. In this article, we decode his subtle filmmaking style by analysing Bhoothakaalam, Bramayugam, and Dies Irae in detail.

Hope you might have already notice what he avoids:

No exorcism drama
No psychiatrist or priest suddenly entering to “solve” things
No loud scare tricks
No “hero saviour” — even Madhusoodhanan in Dies Irae is scared like us.

They are stories of ordinary people trying to escape something that quietly follows them — sometimes from outside, sometimes from inside.

That is Rahul’s trick.
He makes you uncomfortable slowly, using psychology, silence, and things we carry in our hearts but never speak about.

The House Matters More Than the Ghost

In most horror movies, the ghost is the hero.
But in Rahul’s films, the house is the main force.

In Bhoothakaalam, that home feels suffocating, like sadness has settled there over years. And in Bramayugam, the old illam becomes a trap, holding secrets and power games.
In Dies Irae, we have a modern luxury villa that still feels empty and cold.

Rahul uses everyday spaces — kitchen, bathroom, staircase, bedroom — and turns them into areas you suddenly notice more when you go home at night.

For visionary filmmakers, space is not just a backdrop — it becomes part of the emotion. Some directors use rooms, corridors, and silence better than dialogue.

For example, in In the Mood for Love, the narrow corridors and tight apartment hallways make us feel the unspoken tension between the characters. The walls almost hold their secrets.

In Billy Wilder’s The Apartment, the office floor and the lonely apartment show how crowded life can still feel empty. Even in Kubrick’s The Shining, long hotel hallways are enough to create anxiety before anything supernatural appears.

These films prove one thing: space can talk. It can show loneliness, fear, temptation, or pain without a single line of dialogue. Rahul Sadasivan uses this same idea in Malayalam horror.

He does not create a haunted house.
He makes you think about your own house after the film ends. You go home and think, “Why does my house suddenly feel so quiet?”

His horror isn’t about the building; it’s about your relationship with your space.

Bhoothakaalam: The Cramped Apartment

Central Theme: Depression and the fear of mental health

Setting: Middle-class apartment in the midst of a bustling city (not an isolated mansion)

From Rahul Sadasivan’s interview (Times of India):

“I was very particular about the house, once the story and screen was completed. Since it’s a horror movie, and has paranormal elements, the house becomes a character, at one point. Instead of going for a cliché mansion or deserted bungalow, I wanted a house that seemed normal, in a relatable neighbourhood. Our requirement was a single storeyed house with three bedrooms.”

In Bhoothakaalam, the cramped spaces and minimal effects create a terrifying atmosphere. Whatever pain Vinu and Asha already have, the house quietly absorbs it, makes it heavier, and sends it back to them. So instead of getting better, they keep sinking deeper into fear and hopelessness..

Bramayugam: The 17th Century Mana

Central Theme: “Oppression is a cycle, it never stops”

Setting: Dilapidated, labyrinthine 17th-century mansion

The mana in Bramayugam acts as a physical manifestation of a corrupt power structure. It creates entrapment — the night lasts longer than the day, and the characters seem stuck in an endless time loop.

Dies Irae: The Luxury Villa

Central Theme: “when you have everything outside, the battle begins inside.” The film explores how emotional hunger inside us creates its own demons.

Setting: Villa that “screams luxury in every corner”

Function: The luxurious villa becomes a gilded cage, amplifying the protagonist’s profound sense of isolation despite (or because of) its opulence.

Also, you can see that there three different homes in Dies Irae

Rohan’s luxury villa
Kani’s home: A middle class home
Eliamma (Jaya Kurup): A tiny old home made of wood and bricks.

In Dies Irae, each home carries its own ghost, no matter how big or small the space is. Rohan lives in a luxury villa, yet that house is the most haunted — not just by a spirit, but by guilt, ego, and his inability to face his own actions.

Kani’s middle-class home feels cursed to her family, not because of spirits, but because of grief and the emotional wound.

And then there is Eliamma’s tiny old house, where she feeds a demon. Three different homes, but the same truth: a house becomes haunted when the people inside cannot let pain go. Fear is not about walls or wealth — it follows who we are.

Rahul Sadasivan vs James Wan: Two Different Ways to Create Fear

Rahul Sadasivan doesn’t make “loud” horror.
You won’t see sudden jump scares every few minutes or ghosts screaming into the camera. That style works for some films, but Rahul is not interested in shocking you for one second and moving on.

He wants something else — he wants the fear to sit with you.
Not run at you.
Just sit quietly, like a thought you can’t shake off.

This is very different from the James Wan school of horror. Wan builds fear like a roller-coaster — loud, fast, and engineered for instant reaction (Conjuring, Insidious can be examples). It works, no doubt, but sometimes those scares vanish the moment the lights come on. Rahul does the opposite. He doesn’t chase your heartbeat; he quietly gets into your head.

Rahul treats horror like a natural extension of life.
Problems we don’t talk about, guilt we carry, sadness we ignore — he uses these emotions as real ghosts. And that’s why you feel uneasy. Not because something jumped at you, but because somewhere it feels real.

When Rohan talks about Kani to Madhu, you may connect with either Kani or Rohan.
When Asha and Vinu fight, you may think about your mother or your own past.
And when Potti says, “You can’t have a second chance,” we feel the pain of loss and oppression.

What Rahul Sadasivan’s Horror Really Talks About

On the surface, Rahul’s films look like ghost stories. But if you watch closely, there is always something deeper running underneath. The fear is just a tool — the real subject is what people quietly go through inside their minds.

The Ghost of Depression in Bhoothakaalam

In Bhoothakaalam, the haunting blends with mental health, trauma, and the weight of hopelessness.
The central theme of Bhoothakaalam is depression and the fear surrounding mental health — generational trauma and emotional silence.
The most powerful moment is Vinu’s fear — “the fear of our loved ones not understanding us.”

Two-thirds of Bhoothakaalam is drama about a clinically depressed mother and a troubled son’s dysfunctional relationship, and the remaining one-third focuses on haunted-house elements.
You start wondering whether the ghost is real, or if it is grief taking shape.

Power, Isolation, and the Illusion of Equality in Bramayugam

In Bramayugam, the horror isn’t only about black magic or ancient curses. It’s about power — who controls it, who suffers under it, and how fear keeps systems running for generations.

The illusion is not the ghost; it’s the illusion of egalitarianism. Those who wish to keep you beneath them will first make you sit beside them like an equal, creating a false sense of equality. They use that feeling in you to establish themselves as the bigger person, to whom you owe gratitude for being treated “undeservingly” as equals.
No offence to comrades or communists, but this illusion is something we have seen across revolutions in history.

Look at the song Adithyan Illathe — a cry for help, portraying the sorrow of bondage, sung exactly when planning to break free. Everything is connected. The victims are not waiting for an exorcist.

The Ghosts Made by Desire & Wrath, Not Spirits

And in Dies Irae, the supernatural mixes with guilt and emotional hunger in modern life. The film touches upon desire, obsession, and the wrath that follows.

Rahul simply shows people, their fears, and the world they live in. And when the supernatural enters that space, it doesn’t feel separate. It feels like it was always there, hiding behind the curtain of everyday life. That’s why his stories stay in your head — they talk about ghosts outside and the ghosts inside.

Also, in Dies Irae, I love the way Madhusoodhanan realises his abilities. It reminded me of Nolan’s Batman moments — Madhu discovering the strength he had long ignored, and rising in the second half to confront the evil.

A Team That Understands Rahul’s Vision

Rahul’s films look and sound the way they do not just because of him, but because he works with a team that understands his rhythm.

Cinematography: Shehnad Jalal

Rahul’s visual language works because of cinematographer Shehnad Jalal (alumnus of Satyajit Ray Film and Television Institute).

Shehnad and Rahul plan deeply before they shoot.
They storyboard, visit locations together, and decide how silence, darkness, and stillness should look. Rahul’s VFX and animation background helps him visualise shots in advance — nothing is accidental.

That’s why in Bhoothakaalam, close-ups feel like someone breathing down your neck. In Bramayugam, the monochrome world looks like a folklore nightmare — like the pages of an ancient palm-leaf manuscript moving on screen. The mansion doesn’t feel like a set; it feels like a memory.

And small choices — like the low-angle shot of Mammootty’s shadow towering over another man — show how visual ideas come from trust and collaboration, not chance.

Sound & Silence: Christo Xavier and Team

Horror dies if sound is lazy. Rahul knows that. So does composer Christo Xavier, along with sound designers Jayadevan Chakkadath, M.R. Rajakrishnan, and Raja Krishnan.

I love the way they use Silence.
Silence is not empty — it has weight.

Instead of constant scary music, sound arrives slowly. Sometimes all you hear is a hair clip snapping, a ghungroo, footsteps in another room. These sounds feel ordinary — and that’s why they make your stomach tighten.

That’s why scenes like the “passage of time” sequence in Dies Irae or a casual conversation turning chilling work so deeply — the sound pulls the floor from under you without warning.

Editing: Shafique Mohamed Ali

Finally, Rahul’s films hold tension because of editor Shafique Mohamed Ali. He doesn’t cut for speed — he cuts for mood.

Sometimes a scene stays longer than you expect.
Sometimes it ends just before you feel safe again.

Editing in horror is timing, and Shafique knows when to let silence stretch and when to snap it. That’s why Rahul’s films never feel rushed or broken — each moment lands.

A Horror Film That Follows You Home

Rahul Sadasivan isn’t trying to entertain you for two hours and send you home relaxed. His films don’t end when the credits roll. They quietly come with you.

You think about the house, the silence, the feeling that something was always there in the corner. Once you switch off your bedroom light, and suddenly the room feels a bit too still. You hear a sound from the kitchen, and for a second, you pause.

Not because you saw a ghost in the film — but because the film reminded you that fear doesn’t always scream. Sometimes it just waits.

That’s Rahul’s style:
Not horror that tries to scare you.
Horror that reminds you you are already scared — only you don’t talk about it.

Share your thoughts as comments.

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Moothon in Lokah: Myth, Aliens, or Something More?

When Lokah: Chapter 1 dropped, we met Neeli, Chathan, and Odiyan. But behind all of them, one name kept surfacing — Who is Moothon (With Mammootty voice over). A mysterious power controlling immortals, never shown, only hinted at. So, who is Moothon?

The Epic of Gilgamesh (an epic from ancient Mesopotamia)

To answer that, we need to look beyond Kerala’s Aithihyamala. From the film’s title card itself, there’s a hint pointing towards ancient Mesopotamian myths, where gods, aliens, and immortals often overlap.

While explaining the flashback, we see child Neeli looking at a cuneiform text — the wedge-shaped script of ancient Mesopotamia — carved inside the cave.

This links the beheaded idol that Neeli sees to Ishtar, the Mesopotamian goddess.

So, this mesopotamian connection makes sense.

But let me tell you, I’m doubtful whether the makers used actual Mesopotamian scripts here or not, because it looks more like the Zonai script from the video game The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom.

TL;DR – The Moothon–Enki Theory

The people of ancient Mesopotamia, living between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, imagined the world as shaped by a vast family of gods and goddesses (much like the Greeks or Hindus). This pantheon was not just a group of divine figures, but a complex society — with rules, rivalries, leaders, and conflicts.

Understanding this divine family is the first step to understanding the Mesopotamian world — and, perhaps, Moothon’s place within it in Lokah.

Our theory connects Moothon to the Mesopotamian deity Enki, as reinterpreted by Zecharia Sitchin’s “ancient astronaut” theory.

In this view, Moothon is a powerful Anunnaki leader who created and protected humanity, standing against destructive gods like Ishtar. This article breaks down the myths and fringe theories that support this connection — and explains how Lokah might be reworking them.

The Beginning of Creation in Mesopotamian Myth

Before the world existed, myths say there was only water in chaos. From that endless ocean came two mighty forces:

Apsu – the spirit of fresh water flowing under the earth.
Tiamat – the spirit of the wild, salty sea.

When their waters met, life began. The first gods were born — younger, restless, and full of energy. But their noise disturbed their parents. This tension set the stage for a cosmic conflict, one that shaped the heavens, the earth, and the world humans live in today.

Anu, the Sky Father

At the very top stood An (called Anu by the Akkadians). He was the god of the sky, the highest authority, and known as the “Father of the Gods.”

Human kings claimed their right to rule came from him.
His authority was called anûtu (“Anu-power”).

Yet despite his supreme title, Anu was distant. He lived in the highest heaven, he rarely came down to interfere with gods or humans.

The day-to-day world was instead shaped by more active gods like Enlil. This mirrored Mesopotamian politics: a high king ruling over many city-states, while local governors held real influence.

Who is Enlil?

The Anunnaki: The Great Gods Who Gave Orders

The most important gods in mesopotamian myths were the Anunnaki (“those of royal blood”). They were the children and grand children of An (Anu) and Ki (Antu).

Their main role: deciding the fate of humans.

The most famous group was the “seven gods who decide”:

An (Anu) – god of the sky
Enlil – god of air and storms
Enki (Ea) – god of water and wisdom
Ninhursag (Antu) – goddess of earth
Nanna (Sin) – god of the moon
Utu (Shamash) – god of the sun and justice
Inanna (Ishtar) – goddess of love and war

In early stories, the Anunnaki ruled as high gods in heaven. Later, they became judges of the underworld, showing how beliefs about death evolved.

The Ruling Triad: A Model for Lokah’s Power Struggles?

Even though Anu was the high king of the gods, he did not rule alone. He shared his power with two other great deities, forming what myths describe as a ruling triad.

Enlil – God of air, wind, and storms. The son of Anu and Ki, he was often the most powerful god in action. While Anu stayed distant, Enlil carried out the decisions of the gods and eventually became the active head of the pantheon.
Enki (Ea) – God of water, wisdom, and creation. Known for his cleverness, Enki was seen as a friend to humans. He often warned them about the harsh plans of the other gods, like in the story of the Great Flood.

Together, Anu (sky), Enlil (air), and Enki (water) ruled over the three great domains of the universe.

Family Tree of Mesopotamian dieties Enki & Enlil

In Lokah, this triad can be seen as a model for hidden cosmic power struggles, where Moothon (like Enki) is the quiet protector, and Ishtar plays the enforcer.

Ningal, the Great Lady, and Nanna, the Moon God

In Mesopotamian myths, one of the most important divine couples was Ningal and Nanna. They ruled over the night sky and the fertile lands, and together their family explained much of how the world worked.

Ningal, the Great Queen

The name Ningal means “Great Lady” or “Great Queen.” She was the daughter of Enki, the god of water and wisdom, and Ningikuga, the goddess of reeds and marshlands. Because of this, Ningal was strongly connected to the wetlands of southern Mesopotamia — the very place where Sumerian civilisation grew. She was the protector goddess of the great city of Ur.

Nanna, the Moon God

Ningal’s husband was Nanna, called Sin by the Akkadians, the god of the moon. He ruled the cycles of the night sky and was linked to the measurement of time, since the months were counted by the phases of the moon.

Like Ningal, Nanna’s main temple was in Ur, and their marriage was celebrated in myth. Stories about their union were told to teach the value of family and marriage in Mesopotamian society.

Their Divine Family

Together, Ningal and Nanna created a family that reflected the natural order:

Utu (Shamash), the sun god of justice
Inanna (Ishtar), the goddess of love and war, is linked to the planet Venus. Ishtar was also known as the “Queen of Heaven”.

This family gave people a complete picture of the world. Ningal, born of water and reeds, represented the fertile earth. Nanna, as the moon, ruled the rhythm of the night sky.

From Myth to Sci-Fi: The Zecharia Sitchin Theory

In Mesopotamian myth, the sky god Anu ruled as the “Father of the Gods.” From his bloodline came powerful deities, and they are the Anunnaki.

Later, Zecharia Sitchin’s book The 12th Planet (1976) spun a radical theory: the Anunnaki were not gods, but aliens from Planet X (Nibiru).

The Anunnaki were aliens from a hidden planet called Nibiru.
They came to mine gold to repair their atmosphere.
When the work became too much, they created humans (mixing their DNA with Homo erectus).

According to Sitchin, humans were not born to worship, but born to work.

Zecharia Sitchin was not a historian, but a writer with a very bold idea. He believed they were just advanced humans from space with technology that looked like magic to ancient people.

Why This Theory Resonates with Lokah

This idea matches Lokah’s tagline: They Live Among Us.

Moothon as Enki → the one who gave knowledge, always protecting humanity.
Ishtar as antagonist → bitter and destructive, still hunting.

Lokah reimagines these conflicts through its immortal characters.

Want to know more? It’s too long to read, but worth if you are really interested.

The 12th Planet – Nibiru

According to Sitchin, their home was a hidden planet called Nibiru, which moves around the sun in a very long orbit, taking 3,600 years to come close to Earth. He called it the “12th Planet” if we count the Sun, Moon, and Pluto as planets.

Why They Came to Earth

He claimed the Anunnaki came here 450,000 years ago for a practical reason — to mine gold. They needed it to repair their own atmosphere, by turning the gold into fine dust to protect their planet. This was not about spirituality, but pure survival.

The Creation of Humans

But the work was hard. The Anunnaki workers themselves got tired of digging. To solve this, their leaders created a new species. Sitchin says they mixed their own DNA with that of Homo erectus, an early human. The result was Homo sapiens — us. Not born to worship, but born to work. In his telling, humanity was created as a slave race.

Why It’s Controversial

Sitchin’s story is exciting, but historians do not accept it. His translations of Sumerian texts are disputed, and mainstream archaeology sees the Anunnaki as mythical gods, not aliens. Still, his theory became popular because it mixes myth, science fiction, and conspiracy in one package.

The Gift of Civilization

After creating humans, the Anunnaki did not stop at making miners. They also gave humans knowledge and skills. According to Sitchin, this is why Sumerian civilization appeared so suddenly, with advanced ideas in astronomy, farming, and city life.

The Anunnaki even set up cities and declared themselves as gods. To control people better, they introduced “kingship” — where humans ruled on their behalf, acting as a link between the masses and their alien overlords.

The Great Flood: A Planned Extinction

As humans grew in number, their noise and rebellions irritated Enlil, one of the Anunnaki leaders. Around the same time, a disaster was coming: Sitchin says the orbit of their planet Nibiru would pull on Earth, breaking the Antarctic ice sheet and causing a global flood.

Enlil wanted to use this flood as a chance to wipe out humanity. The council agreed not to warn humans. But Enki, who had helped create mankind, disagreed. He secretly told a loyal human (known as Utnapishtim in Mesopotamian myth, or Noah in the Bible or Matsya Purana from hinduism) to build a huge boat. In it, he saved his family and the seeds of all living things.

As the waters rose, the Anunnaki watched from orbit in their ships.

A New Beginning and the Wars of the Gods

When the waters went down, Earth was empty. The Anunnaki realised they had made a mistake — they still needed humans. So, they helped the survivors rebuild civilisation.

But peace didn’t last. Two factions of the Anunnaki fell into conflict:

Enlil’s side – strict rulers, focused on order and punishment.
Enki’s side – scientists and creators, closer to humanity.

These clashes were fought not just with words but with wars over resources and cities. Sitchin even reinterprets old stories like the Tower of Babel as battles between alien factions, with humans used as soldiers in their fights.

Nuclear Calamity and Departure

The conflict reached its worst point around 2024 B.C. One faction used nuclear weapons to destroy the Sinai spaceport and nearby cities like Sodom and Gomorrah, so they would not fall to the enemy.

The Fall of the Anunnaki and the Rise of Moothon

In Sitchin’s story, the nuclear blast of 2024 B.C. changed everything for the Anunnaki.

Enlil: The End of a Reign

Enlil, the commander, was the one who pushed for the nuclear strike, along with his son Ninurta and the council of gods. The plan was simple: stop Enki’s son Marduk from taking over the Sinai spaceport and becoming supreme.

But it backfired. The nuclear cloud — remembered in ancient texts as the “evil wind” — drifted east into Sumer, Enlil’s own land. People died, rivers turned toxic, fields went barren. Sumer collapsed almost overnight, and with it, Enlil’s authority.

The great age of Enlil was over. He and his family had no choice but to leave their ruined cities and scatter.

Enki: The Long Game Pays Off

Enki had opposed the use of nuclear weapons, and though he too saw the destruction as a tragedy, it cleared the path for his side.

His firstborn son Marduk (Ra in Egypt) rose out of the chaos as the strongest.

With Enlil’s cities destroyed and the spaceport gone, there was no one left to block Marduk. The council was forced to recognize his supremacy.

For the first time, the “Enlilship” — the status of chief god — passed to Enki’s line. The long rivalry between the brothers was decided.

Ishtar: The Fallen Queen

Ishtar (Inanna) was tied to Enlil’s clan. She had fought bitterly against Marduk, trying to restore her city Uruk as the center of power. But when Sumer fell, so did her temples, her cult, and her influence.

Her rivalry with Marduk ended in defeat. While Sitchin’s texts don’t give her much detail after the disaster, she was left weakened, just another displaced power in the aftermath.

The Departure of the Gods

Sitchin’s final claim comes in his book The End of Days: after centuries of trying to recover, the Anunnaki eventually left Earth around 556 B.C.

The last temples closed, the myths hardened into religion, and humans were left to run history alone. But the gods promised they would return.

How Lokah Might Use This

Now let’s bring this back to Lokah. The film begins with Ishtar sending assassins to capture Neeli, who is hiding in a burning building, holding something secret. At the same time, we hear Moothon calling Neeli back.

This connects perfectly with Sitchin’s framework:

Moothon could be Enki, the one who always protected humanity, the giver of knowledge, the voice that calls Neeli home.
Ishtar, bitter after her defeat, still acts as an antagonist, hunting Neeli just as she once hunted Marduk’s followers.

Final Thoughts – What Do You Think?

Is Moothon really Enki, the protector of humanity? Or is he another hidden figure from Mesopotamian lore?

Share your own Lokah theories in the comments below!

Lokah Detailed Explanation

Kerala Crime Files Season 2: Why, How, and Climax Explained

The best thing about Kerala Crime Files Season 2, written by Bahul Ramesh and directed by Ahammed Khabeer, is its subtle treatment. This blog breaks down the Kerala Crime Files Season 2 ending scene by scene and explains the climax sequence and the true motive behind Ambili’s missing case.

Unlike most detective thrillers that follow the clichéd template of a long lecture at the end by the detective (which often makes you feel like watching only the climax would’ve been enough), this series does the opposite. Watching just the final episode won’t help you understand the story or solution.

⚠️ If you haven’t seen the web series yet, please don’t continue reading.

Kerala Crime Files Season 2 Review: (No Major Spoilers)

The Setup: Ambili, Ayyappan, and the Ring

Ambili is a CPO at a Trivandrum local station. He is a shady, corrupted police officer, but people respect him—mainly because he doesn’t accept bribes directly. Instead, he involves and supports criminals to avoid larger chaos. This is established in an early scene where he’s escorting an accused to court. The accused keeps abusing him on the way, but Ambili remains silent. Minutes later, a few goons enter the bus and assault the accused—showing Ambili’s quiet power.

Even Ambili paid the restaurant bill, showing his character integrity.

Indrans as CPO Ambili (Episode 1, character establishment scene)

Ayyappan is a thief who loves animals. In the past, he met Ambili, who helped clear his charges and got him a job at a government dog shelter. Ambili even made him marry his own ex-wife.

But Ambili is a dominant personality. Though he helps people, he keeps them indebted. Ayyappan eventually realises this, and he even says that Ambili treats him like a chained dog—only unchaining him when he needs something done.

The Crime That Triggered It All

Ayyappan once mediated a quarrel between Mithilaj and Aji over a quarry issue. Mithilaj felt betrayed in the compromise. Seeing this, to compensate for that, Ambili connected him with two criminals from Kasaragod for a forgery attempt in Bengaluru.

When Bengaluru police began their investigation, they traced the crime back to Kasaragod and arrested the two. They revealed Ambili’s and Mithilaj’s names. Now Ambili was trapped. The Bengaluru police demanded a ₹20 lakh bribe to remove their names from the records.

Ambili turned to Ayyappan for help.

The Dog, the Ring, and Jaismon’s Trauma

If you’re wondering who killed Ambili in Kerala Crime Files Season 2 and why the climax felt ambiguous, here’s a detailed scene-by-scene explanation.

Jaismon, the antagonist, appears properly only in episodes 1 and 6. In the rest, we see his childhood snippets.

Jaismon’s father, a mentally unstable petty thief, was also an animal lover. He once brought home a black dog—this dog is shown in Jaismon’s childhood flashbacks. Jaismon formed a deep bond with it. In one instance, when his father was bitten by a snake and no one dared go near him, it was the dog that stayed by his side as he died. This emotional imprint shaped Jaismon’s attachment to dogs.

Years later, Jaismon becomes a dog trainer. In one episode, we see his dog, Terry, suffering from Alzheimer’s and cognitive decline. During a museum inspection related to a robbery, Terry goes out of control, bites Jaismon, and accidentally swallows a pin and an antique ring.

The vet, suspicious, takes an X-ray and finds something odd alongside the pin. She checks the museum’s CCTV footage and begins to piece things together. Ayyappan, now working as the vet’s driver, assists her.

The vet decides not to operate due to the risk, leaving the ring inside Terry. But Ayyappan learns about the ring from the Vet doctor and informs Ambili.

What Was Ambili’s and Ayyappan’s Plan?

Ayyappan had already informed Ambili about Terry swallowing the ring. That’s why, in a key scene, when Ayyappan asks Ambili, “What should we do now?” Ambili responds, “You told me about it yourself.” It clearly shows that Ambili had already connected the dots and was counting on Ayyappan to do the job.

When Ayyappan mentions, “I have to go to Thrissur tomorrow,” Ambili immediately replies, “Exactly. Thrissur (Dog shelter) is where we need to do it.” — referring to the plan of killing Terry and retrieving the ring.

However, there’s a shift in Ayyappan’s tone. During their argument, Ayyappan says that everything he has done until now was out of will, but this time, he can’t — because he loves dogs.

This emotional hesitation is not random. Earlier, the director had already established Ayyappan’s bond with the animals in a sequence where he’s seen feeding dogs with visible affection and care.

The Betrayal

Desperate for the money, Ambili forces Ayyappan to kill the dog and retrieve the ring. Meanwhile, Jaismon gets approval to adopt Terry from the dog shelter. But the night before the adoption, Ayyappan kills the dog and takes the ring.

To cover it up, the authorities quietly bury the dog, listing it as a natural death. However, the vet reveals the truth to Jaismon.

Jaismon decides to take revenge.

The Disappearance and the Clues

Episode 6 opens with Aju Varghese (SI Manoj) narrating what happened next. Ayyappan sells the ring in Coimbatore and collects the money. On his way back to Kerala, he goes missing.

In Episode 1, Ambili’s visit to Kottarakara

Ambili’s cybercell friend reveals that Ayyappan’s phone was active in Ernakulam between the 19th and 21st. On the morning of the 21st, the number was traced in Trivandrum—exactly when Ambili was there. Later that day, both Ambili and the phone signal moved to Kottarakkara, where Ambili had gone to escort an accused to court. After returning to Trivandrum, the phone’s location also shifted back. This matching travel pattern suggests that the kidnapper was closely tailing Ambili.

Ayyappan likely revealed Ambili’s name under pressure. Jaismon, posing as a friend of Ayyappan, might have handed over the money to Ambili to make the revenge plan believable. Ambili then passed the money to the Karnataka police, and that’s the same money recovered by Aju Varghese later during a patrol.

And from the Karnataka Police, Aju Varghese unveiled the motive behind Ambili and Ayyappan.

The Shocking Truth

Jaismon killed both Ayyappan and Ambili and fed their bodies to stray dogs near Central Stadium. The case takes a turn when a dog vomits a human finger, leading the police to investigate the area.

This is foreshadowed in Episode 5, where Aju Varghese casually mentions to CI Kurian about cases where bodies were disposed of by feeding them to dogs.

DNA testing confirms that the flesh and blood samples belong to Ayyappan and Ambili.

From the vet doctor’s & Jeo Baby (Dog shelter in-charge) confession, police identified the missing piece, why Jaismon killed Ambili and Ayyappan.

Why Didn’t the Doctor Report the Ring to the Authorities After Her Research?

This is a common doubt, but the show actually addresses it subtly.

When CI Kurian (played by Lal) asks her about it, the vet clearly explains her reasoning. Her priority was the well-being of the dog, Terry. The dog was already in a fragile state, and performing surgery in that condition could have been life-threatening.

She feared that any official report might lead to the government approving euthanasia for the dog, considering its health and aggression issues. So, she chose silence — not out of negligence, but out of compassion.

Also, it’s important to clarify that neither Ayyappan nor Ambili were involved in the museum robbery itself. That incident was carried out by a Bihari gang.

Kerala Crime Files S2 Climax Explained

When the police reach Jaismon’s home, we can see that the power is gone; then they find him hanging from a ceiling fan, and the fan is static. It looks like suicide. But when the power returns, the fan starts rotating, revealing the body is still warm, and he could be alive.

SI Noble acts quickly and saves Jaismon.

Lacking solid evidence, the police later planted evidence at Jaismon’s home to close the case.

In the final moments, while police bring Jaismon to the stadium for evidence validation, the same stray dogs from the stadium area runs to him and shows clear affection. It’s a quiet but powerful visual cue—subtly confirming that Jaismon was indeed present there and had fed the bodies to the dogs. A show-don’t-tell approach, but enough to close the loop for attentive viewers.

Kerala Crime Files Season 1 Review

Everything Happens for a Reason: Karmic Interconnectedness

Have you ever wondered about those moments when you wish for something—a sea breeze, perhaps—and suddenly, your friend calls for a beach walk? It feels like there’s an unseen force listening to your thoughts, understanding your wishes, and weaving them into reality. I call it as hidden blessings, some says it’s the Atma of your dearest ones, maybe your grandma, maybe your childhood friend who died in an accident. Whatever it might be, I strongly believe there is a mysterious or hidden aura around us, that quietly orchestrates the events for us. It’s listening you, and seeking you.

interconnectedness in our daily life — Ghostly reflection experiment

Madampu Kunjukuttan

Recently, I came across a memoir by Madampu Kunjukuttan that reminded me of this thought. Those who don’t know Madampu should try the biographical novel Bhrashtu. It’s the real life story of an 18th century Namboodiri woman excommunicated for adultery — during the court hearing, she shocked the presiding court by naming a score of society notables whom she encountered, it’s a revenge-bound story which exfoliate the hypocratic patriarchal community of 18th century Kerala.

Madampu Kunjukuttan used to frequently visit Mookambika temple between Kollur and Kodachadri during his early writing days. Those trips helped him to introspect and infuse a spiritual enlightenment in Madampu, both as a writer and a spiritual seeker.

Those who have read Aaryavartham or Bhrashtu can connect with my words. From Adikula nathan’s disintegration, Aryavartam is the story of the Adigotras, who emerge as four clans. The sub-plots in an extended narrative style are enough to understand the depth of Madampu’s thought processes.

A Yogi, Madampu & Their Karmic Interconnectedness

During one such Mookambika visit, he encountered a young yogi deeply immersed in meditation at Sarvagnya Peetha. Intrigued by the yogi’s serene demeanour, Madampu approached him and kept three coins there as a Bhiksha (noble donation). Madampu turned back and took a few steps, but suddenly the yogi opened his eyes and called him back.

Kodachadri Hills: Interconnectedness moment between Yogi and Madampu — Kodachadri Hills

With polished British English, the yogi calmly asked, ‘What brings you here with these coins?’

‘I do not know; it just felt right,’ Madampu replied with a smile.

‘Will it always feel right?’ The yogi chuckled, prompting Madampu to respond in his own way, ‘Probably not.’

The yogi grasped Madampu’s hand. ‘Brother, today I thought of this: someone donating 3 coins. In a week’s time, I will go to the valley and buy three handfuls of rice with three coins. That’s enough for me for a week. This money you brought here will fulfil my needs for the week. The grace of my guru.’

The yogi then shared his story. He spoke of spiritual journeys and learnings—of Himalayan expeditions, encounters with Shankaracharya’s teachings, and seeking the essence of Devi worship. He recounted his time studying Sanskrit under Jnanananda Saraswati in Rishikesh.

Then, with those sparkling eyes, Yogi asked, Have you ever heard about my guru, Jnanananda Saraswati?

This question from Yogi, who was a foreigner in Kodachadri, took Madamb back to his childhood. A period even before Madambu’s Upanayana.

Once, during a monsoon afternoon, Madampu and his brothers saw someone at the doorstep. The man was conversing with elders, and Madampu discovered that he was a man from the south, well-versed in Puranas and Sanskrit. Madampu asked his uncle, ‘Who is this?’ ‘Parameshwaran,’ came the reply.

That was the first time he met that genius.

‘I need to eat,’ Parameswaran said. ‘Clean yourself at the pool, and the food will be ready,’ Madampu’s uncle replied. The family gave him food and shelter. That’s how Parameshwaran lived in Madampu’s Mana for five years! He also taught Sanskrit to Madampu and his siblings.

Parameswaran Unnithan started teaching sanskrit to many children in his area, and finally he married the sibling of one of his disciples. His children went abroad, received a good education, and began a successful career there.

Parameshwaran Unnithan, who had travelled from Kerala to the Himalayas, influenced by Adi Shankara and Brahmasutrabhasya, in search of knowledge, reached Rishikesh, then obtained Deeksha and became Jnanananda Saraswati. The same Parameswaran Unnithan who taught Madampu Sanskrit is the one who taught that young yogi Sanskrit.

“Do you know Malayali Gnananda Saraswathi?”

Young Yogi asked again.

Yogi’s question awakened Madambu from his past. A misty breeze that came from beyond the mountains in Kodachadri caressed both of them.

“I know. He has also taught me Sanskrit. He stayed with us for four to five years. We got his blessings.”

Young Yogi’s eyes were filled with tears after listening to this.

“Everything happens for a reason, “Yogi said.

Madampu remembered Yogi’s words. When he got three rupees, the young British yogi said that it was the blessing of the Guru. The sky stood red above Sarvagnya Peetha; it made them feel like Mookambika Devi was showering Vermillion with her blessings.

Philosophies Around Interconnectedness

This interconnectedness and hidden auras which are working for us, can be seen in many philosphies. In Eastern philosphies, it’s called Karma and Dharma. It suggest that our actions and thoughts have ripple effects beyond what we perceive. In Buddhism, for example, posits that all beings are interconnected, and actions (karma) influence future outcomes in a complex web of cause and effect.

Modern philosphies describe it as Butterfly effect. This chaos theory illustrates how small changes can lead to significant consequences over time. It suggests that even tiny, seemingly insignificant actions or events can have far-reaching effects in complex systems.

The most modern word is manifestation; it refers to the belief that through focused thoughts, intentions, and actions, individuals can attract or create desired outcomes in their lives. Recently, in an interview, actor Vijay Sethupathy said he manifested his acting career. I believe the aura around him might have listened and worked for him.

Imagine this: hidden energies or unseen and mysterious Atmas, surrounding us ceaselessly, attentive to our every whisper and thought. They are like silent guardians, fulfilling the commands of our subconscious minds.

When our intentions are noble, these energies conspire to nurture and elevate us, crafting pathways to our desires. When our thoughts are evil headed, their influence can be ominous, steering us towards destruction.

What do you think? Are we mere vessels, or do we wield unseen powers that shape our destinies? Do you believe in this interconnectedness? Have you ever experienced these mysterious aura around you working for your wishes. Share in comments.

Why Only One Pandava Reached Heaven? Read more here.

8 Movies Which Explain the Ancient Greeks’ Four Types Of Love

The history of Valentine’s Day dates back to the fourth century, when Pope Gelasius 1 declared February 14th as St. Valentine’s Day. So let me introduce the four types of love from Greek philosophy.

1️⃣ Experience: Four Types of Love

Without experiencing the many forms of love, we’ll always feel a little empty.

The ancient Greeks possessed a complex understanding of love that still holds relevance today.

Their lexicon included four distinct types of love: Agape, Eros, Philía, and Storge.

Examples for Four Types of love — Movies Which Share The Experiences

Four Types of Love: Greek Philosophy

❤️Agape denotes a selfless, unconditional love that extends beyond personal desire and encompasses the well-being of others.

It’s selfless, puts others first, and doesn’t expect anything in return. Imagine helping a stranger without expecting thanks, volunteering, or donating to a cause. I hope you have seen the movie Schindler’s List or Malyalam movie 2018.

2018 Trailer

❤️Eros, on the other hand, represents a passionate, romantic love driven by physical attraction and desire.

The “butterflies-in-your-stomach” experience. It’s passion, intense attraction, and physical desire. Think that first crush, the romantic spark, or the thrilling excitement of new love. Think of a movie like Chunking Express or Njan Gandharvan.

Njan Gandharvan teaser

❤️Philía describes a deep, platonic love rooted in mutual respect, shared interests, and genuine friendship.

Experience that “best friend forever” companionship . It’s built on friendship, shared interests, mutual respect, and understanding. Think movie nights with your buddies, deep conversations with an old friend, or the camaraderie of a sports team. Hope you have seen When Harry Met Sally or kannada movie Katheyondu Shuruvagide.

Katheyondu Shuruvagide Trailer

❤️Finally, Storge denotes a familial or parental love that is instinctual and unconditional.

Think the bond between parent and child, the unconditional love you have for your siblings, or the close connection with your grandparents. Hope you have seen the animated movie CoCo (2017) or tamil movie Peranbu.

Peranbu Trailer

Experiencing all these four types of love is vital for a fulfilling life, as it nourishes and enriches our emotional well-being.

Beginning of a Lifelong Romance

We should strive to evoke these emotions in others and elevate them for one another to create a more loving and empathetic society. These four types of love explains the nuances of love. By understanding the nuances of love, we can cultivate stronger, more meaningful relationships that enrich our lives and the lives of those around us.

So, go forth and experience the four types of love — agape, eros, philía, and storge — and embrace the diversity and depth that life has to offer. And remember, if all else fails, a little laughter can go a long way in matters of the heart.

As Oscar Wilde once said, “To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.”

So, experience all four types of love, evoke it in one another, and elevate it for one another. That’s the key.

2️⃣ Pain & Redemption

At the core of any transformative experience is the element of pain and suffering. Love, in particular, is known for its ability to inspire profound changes in individuals.

The reason for this is simple: transformation requires the shedding of one’s old self, and this shedding process can be painful. In fact, some of the most significant changes we experience are born out of great suffering.

This is why love demands that we surrender ourselves to a little bit of suffering. Whether it’s the pain of rejection, the agony of heartbreak, or the discomfort of vulnerability, these experiences are necessary to spur on the kind of transformation that love offers.

Suffer For It

And it’s not just romantic love that requires this level of surrender. If we truly love our work, our art, or our craft, we must be willing to suffer for it. We must be willing to endure the long hours, the uncertainty, and the setbacks that come with any creative pursuit.

But it’s not just about enduring suffering for the sake of transformation. We must also take the time to reflect on our journey, to understand why we’re here, who we are, and why it matters. Only by embracing the transformative power of love, and by surrendering to the suffering it demands, can we hope to unlock our full potential.

Redemtpion

And so, as we embark on this journey of love and transformation, let us remember that it is not a path for the faint of heart. But if we are willing to take that deep breath and plunge headfirst into the abyss, we may just emerge on the other side, transformed and ready for whatever comes next.

And as the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once said, “What does not kill me makes me stronger.”

So, let us suffer a little, and emerge stronger, wiser, and ready to love again.

I recommend you watch Masaan (2015) , Tamasha (2015), La La Land (2016).

3️⃣ Slow & Steady: Mean it

Love is not a commodity that we can buy, nor is it a game that we can play. Love is something that we give, and it’s a reflection of who we are.

Most importantly, it’s a verb, not a noun, it’s an action.

As the ancient Greek philosopher Plato once said, “At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.”

Love inspires us to be creative, kind, and compassionate, and it can elevate our lives to new heights. However, if we don’t mean it, we risk losing it all.

Fake it ’til you make it

There’s a famous saying that goes, “Fake it ’til you make it,” but when it comes to love, that’s a dangerous game to play. You can’t fake love, and you can’t substitute it with anything else. As the American author H. Jackson Brown Jr. once said, “Love is when the other person’s happiness is more important than your own.”

If we don’t mean it, we risk hurting ourselves and the people we care about.

So, how can we mean it?

Well, it starts with being honest with ourselves and others. We need to be clear about what we want and what we’re willing to give.

We need to be vulnerable and open to the possibility of rejection, knowing that it’s part of the process.

And we need to be patient and persistent, knowing that love takes time to grow and blossom.

Remember, genuine love is not something that we can fake or substitute. It’s a precious gift that we give and receive, and it requires us to be true to ourselves and others.

As the American singer-songwriter John Legend once said, “Love is not just a verb, it’s you looking in the mirror.” So, let’s be honest, vulnerable, patient, and persistent, and let’s mean it.

I would recommend movies like The Lunchbox (2013), Call Me by Your Name (2017).

Read about How you should read the film: The Lunchbox

So love your Partner. Love your friends, Love your family, Love your life, Love your job.

Your Love liberates your inner strength, and that’s the beauty of it.

So, how was your Valentine’s Day?

Me?

I had a busy day doing some Ad shoot and campaign management for the marketing.

But tonight, after seeing multiple stories and statuses in my SM feeds, I decided to write something on this.

❤️None of us belong here and there’s not enough time. Let’s Live. Love. Learn and Liberate❤️

The Lunchbox vs. Photograph: Ritesh Batra’s Parallel Narratives

Ritesh Batra took 6 years to release his second Hindi film, Photograph, after my favourite film, The Lunchbox. This time he explained the story of two obedient individuals, Miloni (Sanya Malhotra), who is studying to become a chartered accountant, and Rafi (Nawazuddin Siddiqui), a street photographer. Let’s see how Batra crafted a different movie from the same set of characters, elements, and geography that he used in The Lunchbox. In essence, both films are narrating the same crux.

Photograph Trailer

Miloni meets Rafi at the Gateway of India in Mumbai, where she allows him to take her photograph. Unfortunately, her family calls her away before he can give it to her in an envelope. Later, circumstances make Rafi ask Miloni to act as his girlfriend while his grandmother (Farrukh Jaffar) visits. She agrees, leading to the formation of an unexpected connection between them. Nawazuddin Siddiqui and Sanya Malhotra perfectly match the film’s gentle mood, expressing much through subtle body language, the setting, and their eyes.

“Years from now, when you look at this photo, you’ll feel the sun on your face, wind in your hair and hear all these voices again. Or it’ll all be gone. Gone forever.”
– Rafi in Photograph (2019)

Two Parallel Rays From Different Sources

Miloni and Rafi have different backgrounds, yet they are moving in parallel in the same direction. Photograph explained this journey in The Lunchbox style. They both are not sailing in life for what they want; rather, they are living for others. They are obedient people who have followed whatever has been told to them.

Miloni was always obedient to her parent’s choices. There is a scene where, during dinner, her family members say that Miloni wanted to become an actress before her family pushed her to study accounting. and her father is surprised. She wears what her family thinks looks good on her. She doesn’t even have a favourite colour in her life. Miloni conforms to her family’s expectations, donning attire they find appealing.

Similarly, Rafi’s life is dedicated to his family’s well-being. He toils away, shouldering the heavy burden of his village home’s debt and single-handedly covering his sisters’ wedding costs. His unwavering commitment extends to fulfilling his grandmother’s desires without hesitation. His nights remind me of Saajan from The Lunchbox. Both are isolated in their own islands.

Symmetry happens From Asymmetries

The movie describes Rafi & Miloni both living for the sake of their family by killing their smiles; they were on the stage of life where they forgot their smile and were going through a monotonous life. In Rafi’s photographs, Miloni is finding her smile, which she lost in between.

At the post office, while sending off a money order, the clerk gently nudges Rafi to consider his own needs for once, suggesting he keep a little money for himself. “Keep some for yourself too, Rafi Bhai,” she advises. Rafi’s life is a testament to selflessness and familial devotion, painting a portrait of a man who lives not for himself but for the ones he loves.

Contrast in two characters: The position, brightness, and frame are louder than my words

Miloni and Rafi face similar challenges, though their lives began very differently. Miloni comes from a Hindu, upper-middle-class urban family, while Rafi is Muslim and from a lower-middle-class family. Their differences are stark, not just in their religious backgrounds but also in their skin tones and how they dress.

There are even moments in the film where people comment on Rafi because Miloni looks so different from him. Yet, at their core, they are the same: both are kind, empathetic, and lonely yet surrounded by people. Rafi is like a gulab jamun, and Miloni is like a rasgulla—both are sweet, yet distinct to those around them.

As the relationship between Miloni and Rafi unfolds, Photograph explained their progression from strangers to connected souls.

Being the Slave of Own Past

Miloni seems to live in her past, reminiscing about her childhood. She inquires about farm life from her maid and shares with Rafi her fond memories of drinking Campa Cola with her grandfather. There’s a scene where a doctor remembers her as a young, adventurous lady, visiting with her grandfather, Campa Cola in hand.

Even in a matchmaking scene, when a man asks Miloni where she would like to live, she answers, “A village.” Surprised, he asks her what she would do there. She tells him, “I will do farming in the morning and take a nap in the afternoon“. Rafi, on the other hand, feels stuck due to his duties.

Who Do Not Move, Do Not Notice Their Chains

As their relationship develops, Miloni and Rafi start to move away from their obedient roles towards rebellion, each in their own way. What disappoints me is that, like Batra’s previous film, The Lunchbox, Photograph also ends with an open ending, leaving us wondering what happens next.

In the middle of the movie, when Rafi and Miloni go to a movie theatre, a rat runs over Miloni’s feet, making her uncomfortable. This scene quickly cuts to Miloni’s study table.

Initially, we don’t see what happens after the movie theatre incident. Ritesh Batra saves this crucial scene for the end, where they have a brief chat, Miloni asks him, “Don’t you want to continue the movie?” and Rafi says, “I know the rest of the story. They will fall in love, but because of their backgrounds, they won’t be together.”

The open ending of ‘Photograph,’ explained as a choice by the director The director wants us to follow the story in a linear style until the ending scene. Here, it becomes clear that both Rafi and Miloni understand their backgrounds and social status and that they are unlikely to end up together in this society. After recognising this reality and their probable future, they decide to go with the flow without saying it out loud.

Nostalgia is an Illusion

The story brings back memories with its use of public phone booths and the classic kaali-peeli taxis, even though smartphones and online cab services are common now. It feels like the story was meant for the last decade. Because of this, while the movie becomes nostalgic, it might not seem as relevant today.

I noticed something similar in Sriram Raghavan’s “Merry Christmas.” There is a dialogue in Photograph where a cola factory worker says: “Our country is big, but its memory is short.” But Photograph will definitely make sure to recall your memories.

Photographs are Footprints

Another notable aspect of the film is the frequent focus on characters’ feet, especially Miloni’s. When she feels nervous, the film often shows her feet moving restlessly.

Since Miloni doesn’t share her thoughts out loud and stays quiet, these shots of her feet help show she’s feeling nervous.

It seemed meaningful that the gift Miloni receives from Rafi’s grandmother is a pair of anklets, perhaps suggesting a wish for her to express her feelings more loud.

Parallel World, Parallel Events

The world of Photograph is not different from the one in The Lunchbox. Both films incorporate traditional elements like letters and photographs in an era dominated by text messages and selfies. The main characters exist in a state of isolation amidst the bustling life of Mumbai, where everyone else seems to be in a rush, and they are left hoping for a change.

In both movies, loneliness plays a critical role, almost acting as a character itself. Both stories gradually evolve after an accidental encounter, forming unexpected friendships and ambiguous relationships among the main characters.

A mix-up with a lunchbox initiates a classic letter-writing romance between Ila (Nimrat Kaur) and Saajan (Irrfan Khan) in The Lunchbox. Similarly, a random meeting at the Gateway of India sparks an impromptu romance between Rafi and Miloni. In each story, there is a noticeable age difference between the male and female leads, highlighting their distinct contrasts.

Same Templates, Different Emotions

Ritesh Batra employs familiar cinematic techniques in both The Lunchbox and Photograph. The Lunchbox starts with imagery of two trains moving in opposite directions, while Photograph captures traffic flowing similarly.

Notably, in The Lunchbox, we hear Deshpande Aunty’s voice without seeing her, and only glimpse the exterior of Ila’s father. Similarly, in Photograph, Rafi’s interactions at the post office feature only the voice of the postal worker, whom we never see, yet who seems to know him well and speak like a well-wisher.

Batra’s way of intensifying emotional scenes diverges from the age-old Kurosawa technique of using close-up shots of face gestures. He emphasises voices over facial expressions.

In Photograph, Batra effectively uses auditory elements multiple times. For example, the woman on the bus questioning Miloni about appearing on a billboard for Miloni’s coaching centre remains unseen.

The introduction of Miloni’s teacher delays showing his face until the scene nearly ends. When a potential suitor’s parents visit Miloni, everyone’s face, except Miloni’s is blurred. Additionally, in the scene where Rafi encounters the Campa Cola manufacturer, the factory setting is blurred, focusing on Rafi from behind, while the background sounds and music convey the scene’s essence.

Same Characters, Same Elements

In The Lunchbox, Ila says Deshpande Uncle always stared at the ceiling fan because he thought his life depended on it. Deshpande Aunty bought an inverter to keep the fan on forever. In Photograph, we also see and hear the ceiling fan a lot. Even after the very first scene of Rafi, it cuts to a ceiling fan. The movie shows some scenes as if we are looking down from where the fan is. Tiwari Ji took his own life with the fan.

In The Lunchbox, Saajan writes that he spent his whole life standing in trains and buses, and he will have to stand even when he is dead as there are no horizontal burial plots left and only vertical burial plots are being offered.

In Photograph, you can see a similar viewpoint from Rafi, he complains to Miloni about the hurry-burry of people in Mumbai. Even Batra added a symbol for the rat-race life of Rafi and his friends. The door of Rafi’s house opens upwards, making it feel like he is living in a box.

Even the elements of death and those haunting narrations are similar in The Lunchbox and Photograph. A woman jumps along with her daughter and commits suicide in The Lunchbox; In Photograph, it’s Tiwari ji, who commits suicide by hanging over the ceiling fan. Even there is a scene where Rafi’s friend Zakir comments over Tiwari Ji, “No one gets peace in Mumbai, not even in death”.

Even the utopian dreams of lead characters are nearly the same in The Lunchbox and Photograph. In the Lunchbox, it’s Ila and her desire to move to Bhutan for happiness.

In Photograph it’s Miloni’s desire to live in a village. They are yearning to move out of the cubicle life of bustling cities. Miloni connected more with people who came from villages, whether it was her maid or Rafi.

Photograph: A Pause Button

Even sometimes, I felt that Miloni was an extended version of Ila’s daughter in the Lunchbox. Mostly, Miloni’s character is inert in the movie, which makes it difficult to read her motivations. For instance, Miloni agrees to play Rafi’s girlfriend, but the film never explains her reasons for doing so.

Ritesh Batra beautifully packed Nostalgia or “those good old days,” in every frame of The Lunchbox and Photograph. The Lunchbox depicted old TV shows, radio shows, video cassettes, and letters. Photograph shows Campa Cola, softies, kulfi, kaali-peeli taxis, money orders, old theatres, and post offices.

“I think we forget things if we have no one to tell them to,”
Saajan (The Lunchbox)

Perhaps this is the reason Ritesh Batra includes such nostalgic elements in his movies. By doing so, he leads us down a path where we too revisit our own childhood memories alongside him. Nostalgia becomes even more delightful when we have someone to share those memories with and look back on the times that will never return.

Animal Explained: Dissecting the Hidden Philosphies and Patriarchal Ideologies

Sandeep Reddy Vanga’s Animal is streaming on Netflix with 3 hours and 24 minutes of adrenaline pumps. This is not a review, but rather an analysis of the propaganda art and politics of Animal. So, this blog contains spoilers, and if you haven’t watched it yet, skip this.

After Arjun Reddy (2017) and Kabir Singh (2019), two films about a sexually desperate misogynistic doctor with anger issues and Preeti obsession, director Sandeep Reddy Vanga returns with Animal. This time, it’s about a toxic patriarchal chain-smoking engineer obsessed with his father.

Animal movie explained — Animal Movie Poster

The crux of the story is a son protecting his father from animals in an animal park. Despite the script being imbued with his palaeolithic view of human instincts, Sandeep Reddy Vanga managed to infuse it with high adrenaline action, music, and a bloodbath. In essence, the hero is a carnivorous animal in human form, devoid of sin, vision, or empathy, driven only by instincts.

I thoroughly enjoyed the film, although I disagree with a few of Sandeep Reddy Vanga’s perspectives. This film is a commendable mass entertainer.

How Sandeep Ignites the Adrenaline Rush With Animal

Sandeep Reddy Vanga brilliantly incorporates elements that have recently succeeded in commercial movies. Bringing in a weapon dealer, adding a massive gunfight scene, and retro songs like Roja, Punjabi DJ songs & Jamal Jamaloo, created high moments in theatres and on Instagram as well.

The cold-blooded revenge arc, fatherly sentiments, and nationalism (the weapons are made in India scenes) are well-placed. Surprises, such as the bystander-turned-traitor twists and the double climax, the 2-hour (so-called) street fight in the end (a reminiscent of Thallumala) the list is long. The high-adrenaline music is another highlight. Kudos to the long list of music directors from Harshavardhan Rameshwar, Jaani, Vishal Mishra, Shreyas Puranik, Manan Bhardwaj to last but not least: A. R. Rahman.

Forgot to add, the climax scene, inspired by Rolex, is particularly notable. Fans of Leo, Jawan, Pathan, and Arjun Reddy will find Animal a high-adrenaline theatre experience.

Animal’s Anthropology Class & Thrills from the Start

The movie begins with a narration, swiftly moving to a school episode of Ranvijay (Ranbir Kapoor) showcasing his love for his father. One of my favourite scenes follows, filled with A.R. Rahman’s Roja background score, where Ranvijay is now a college boy. The film transitions seamlessly to love at first sight.

Sandeep Reddy Vanga acts like an anthropologist, sharing perspectives on the evolution of poetry. These insights could be used to promote a whey protein brand or a fitness centre. He then progresses Ranvijay’s character arc to highlight his prejudiced and narcissistic nature.

Sandeep Reddy & His Art of Crafting a Predatory Protagonist

Sandeep Reddy Vanga meticulously wrote this character. Ranvijay cries only once in the entire movie. He never shows his vulnerabilities; even when he informs his sister about her husband’s death, he immediately consoles her by suggesting a remarriage. He consoles his wife by stating that happiness is a choice, and there’s a scene where he enjoys biryani made from human flesh (though Sandeep Reddy Vanga doesn’t explicitly show this). With all these elements, Sandeep tells you how umpathetic Ranjvijay is.

I appreciate Sandeep Reddy Vanga’s meticulous crafting of dialogues for Ranbir Kapoor. Ranbir’s dialogues always reflect an animal mindset, like his comments on business expansion or his various lectures. When Ranbir talks about patience and his fights with schoolmates, it reminds me of predators on Animal Planet. Sandeep Reddy Vanga’s portrayal of his hero as a tiger is contrasted with a more dog-like loyalty, treating others as subservient. Sandeep Reddy Vanga has a knack for highlighting character flaws, like Ranvijay’s.

The Subservient Female Roles in Animal Explained

Sandeep Reddy Vanga doesn’t give much importance to female characters like Geethanali, Zoya, or even Reet. They are portrayed as subservient to their male counterparts. Geethanali’s quick fall in love with Ranvijay, perhaps influenced by watching Arjun Reddy, is an example of this. Similarly, Zoya is depicted as submissive to Ranbir’s character. What is most disturbing is that Zoya is even ready to lick his feet for his love.

Rashmika Mandanna & Ranbir Kapoor from Animal

Unfortunately, Sandeep Reddy Vanga’s skill seems solely invested in building the character of Ranvijay. When it comes to the character arc, it only moves in one direction, continually ascending. I believe actions should have consequences, but nothing Ranvijay does in Animal seems to have any.

Sandeep’s Reply for Concerns Around Sexuality, Violence, and Gender Equality

Sandeep Reddy Vanga also tries to counter criticisms of male chauvinism. He addresses consent by having Ranvijay touch Geethanali’s feet and give a lecture on the importance of women in the Paleolithic era.

Ranbir kapoor and Rashmika Mandanna from Animal

If there’s a problem with him slapping her, this time let her slap him. If there are issues with domination and masculinity, let her come to his home, kiss him in front of everyone, and let him praise her physique. He addresses body shaming by giving a spiritual lesson on pubic hair.

If there’s a problem with adult content and gory scenes, let’s have a three-hour blood bath with nudity and discussions of sexual fantasies.

What I really like is the idea of recording the moanings of their first lovemaking and using it to calm his angry wife, that was truly a wow! what an idea moment 🙂 .

So, in simple words, this movie entertains the majority with ease. I was expecting a Tarantino style but got an ultra-mode RGV style. Raw violence, sex, and obsession await you in this movie, sprinkled with a few good father-son sentiments.

The climax scene, with two sons fighting for their father’s honour and love, battling with emotions, and a background song echoing their family connection, made the whole theatre dark and silent without any mobile screen light or murmurs. That’s the power of bringing raw emotions to the screen.

From Ranbir to Tripti Dimri: Explaining Performances from Animal

Ranbir Kapoor, Bobby Deol, Rashmika Mandanna and Anil Kapoor from the Animal movie.

Regarding performances, Ranbir Kapoor establishes himself as a superstar with Animal. Sandeep Reddy Vanga did justice to Bobby Deol fans, though I expected more from Bobby Deol. My surprise was Tripti Dimri, whose screen presence was mind-blowing despite limited screen time. Charu Singh and Anil Kapoor did their parts as Ranbir’s parents with ease. Saurabh Sachdeva delivered a killing performance as Bobby Deol’s brother, especially in the climax. Rashmika gave a decent performance, possibly her best since Kirik Party

Why is it Animal ? Animal Explained

Let me explain my views on why the film is called Animal by Sandeep Reddy.

The film explores the more primal, instinctual aspects of human nature, as shown in how Ranbir celebrates his heart surgery and how Abrar releases his pain of loss. In Sandeep Reddy Vanga’s Animal park, the lead male characters operate based on the pleasure principle, seeking immediate gratification. The climax fight is reminiscent of the survival of the fittest theory, living in a world where the law of nature prevails.

In this movie, after Papa, SWASTIK is the most highlighted word. It’s their family business, indicating a blend of traditional values and a darker quest for power (Nazi approach).

The tagline of Swastik, “Power, Progress & Victory”, is repeated by Ranvijay during his oath of vengeance. As per psychologist Carl Jung’s concept of the shadow, this tagline could be seen as manifestations of Ranvijay’s shadow, where his animalistic traits (aggression, dominance, the pursuit of power) are embraced and externalised as his personal and corporate ethos.

Animal & Sandeep Reddy Vanga’s Propaganda Art

Regarding opinions, my friend argued,

“How conveniently do we forget that Scorsese used slow-motion and rousing soundtracks for despicable characters in ‘Goodfellas’ and ‘Casino’, and when Sandeep Reddy Vanga does an extreme Indian version of that, it’s suddenly ‘glorification’?”

As a die-hard fan of Scorses, I feel Martin Scorsese never portrayed Travis Bickle or Jimmy Conway as heroes, nor did he justify their actions. His characters dealt with consequences, unlike in Sandeep Reddy Vanga’s Ranvijay. This is where Sandeep Reddy Vanga falls short as a responsible artist. I believe he is obsessed with certain ideologies and celebrates and promotes them through his movies. Scorsese’s Raging Bull highlighted male insecurity in 1980. Can we expect such a film from Sandeep Reddy Vanga?

Toxic masculinity is a propaganda tool for promoting patriarchal beliefs. Ranvijay’s words to his sister about killing any of her choices he dislikes, and his actions as a school kid stepping in with a gun to protect his sister, and delivering a lecture to his father suggest a patriarchal mindset. That’s where he fails to responsibly handle his craft.

Read about the Yadhoom philosophy & Sriram Raghavan’s Merry chritmas here.

The Secret Of Happiness: Mitchell Marsh & World Cup

What’s the secret of happiness? Let’s learn from Mitchell Marsh and his super cool World Cup celebration.

If I were to choose a single image that encapsulates the essence of this World Cup, my finger would point unhesitatingly to this particular scene. It’s the picture of the young Mitchell Marsh, his foot triumphantly planted atop the World Cup trophy. The fact that it was Pat Cummins who shared this moment with the world is far from coincidental 😉

Mitchell Marsh with the world cup trophy — Mitchell Marsh with the World Cup trophy

For many, it might be arrogance or direspect, but in my perspective, Mitchell brought a philosophy echoing the very thoughts and actions of Buddha himself. This philosophy, known in English as ‘Detachment’, embodies ideas of dispassion, disillusionment, and liberation from entanglements. The epitome of this concept, in its most tangible form, was achieved by Buddha in the name of Nirvana & Hindu saints and Jaina aints in the name of ‘Moksha‘.

The Zen of Victory: Mitchell Marsh’s World Cup Philosophy

Osho Rajneesh, Ramana Maharshi, and various Jain saints have extensively spoken about this philosophy. However, Mitchell Marsh, through a single act, illuminated this principle in its most tangible form. Every achievement, whether it’s winning the World Cup or an election victory, is transient.

The essence here is the concept of detachment and the transient nature of events and achievements. Mitchell Marsh’s act is a powerful embodiment of this, showcasing that even significant victories like the World Cup are just fleeting moments in the grand scheme of life. I remember a Zen Buddhist story that may connect this better.

The Tale of Two Monks: A Lesson in Non-Attachment

Two monks, one older and one younger, are travelling together. At one point, they come to a river with a strong current. As they prepare to cross, they meet a young woman who is unable to cross by herself. The older monk offers to carry her across on his back, and she gratefully accepts. After he safely delivers her to the other side, they part ways.

After some time, the younger monk questions the elder: ‘Was it right for you to carry that young woman on your shoulders?‘ To this, The older monk replies, “I put her down on the other side of the river. Why are you still carrying her?”.

Cultural Misinterpretations: Respect vs. Detachment

On Sunday, Mitchell Marsh was in the role of this older monk. By declaring the World Cup trophy merely a cup after the victory, he precisely and subtly communicated to us the impermanence of both triumph and defeat. It’s a profound lesson in how fleeting both success and failure are.

Image of Mitchell Marsh shared by cybersanskaris

There are those who criticise this scene. They see placing a foot on the World Cup as disrespectful. These are the same people who do not hesitate to remain silent in the face of blatant injustices. They forget that respect is a feudal value, heavily overshadowed by hierarchy. In their view, certain actions, even symbolic, are unacceptable breaches of decorum, ignoring the deeper symbolic messages such actions might convey.

Practising Detachment: Insights from Mitchell Marsh

You might be thinking that this sounds like actor Vijay fans decoding the brilliance behind the popular Tamil movie Leo. Let me tell you, the base of this interpretation is an interview from Mitchell Marsh.

Mitchell Marsh Interview

In it, Mitchell mentions that he has been training with a psychologist to navigate life, focusing on how to become detached from outcomes. ‘Detachment’ is the key concept Mitchell emphasises. This concept echoes Lord Krishna’s teachings in the Bhagavad Gita about acting without attachment to the results. I cannot recall another recent instance where the profound teachings of Buddha or lord Krsihna have been so effectively put into practise.

Feudal Mindset & The Philosophy of Detachment

Our leaders, superstars, and celebrities should all take a leaf out of Mitchell’s book. His approach is a guiding finger to those who revel in the shadows of egoism. Let’s take a closer look at Kerala.

Here, politicians act like royalty, with only the VIPs having access to the Chief Minister and ministers. Bureaucrats often wield their power for personal ego and vendetta, rooted in their attachment to power.

Kerala Chief Minister in a public outreach programme

Look at our hon.PM Narendra Modi, If he goes to great lengths to maintain his power, it’s not surprising. He has been in power since 2000, and detachment from such a long-held position is no easy feat.

Reflecting on ourselves, can we detach from our past, from our achievements? If it were a yes, we wouldn’t have celebrated Arjun Reddy or Kabir Singh, and we wouldn’t have played so many Lofi songs. Letting Go is a skill that we all should gain.

Most of us bask in the glory of our past successes or failures, but true happiness and growth lie in moving on. Growth happens when you let go. This is especially relevant in a society where maintaining status and power often becomes an end in itself. If we can learn to detach, to let go of these attachments, we can find not just individual contentment but also create a more balanced and equitable society.

Live Love learn liberate — Live Love Learn Liberate

Detachment: Here lies the secret of happiness.
As I always say: Live to Love, Love to Learn, Learn to Liberate. This mission makes your life content.

Why ‘The Lunchbox’ More Than Just a Love Story

Whenever someone inquires about my favourite romantic films, my mind categorises them into ‘pre-The Lunchbox’ and ‘post-The Lunchbox’ eras. Before experiencing The Lunchbox, it was ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ and ‘Kandu Kondein Kandu Kondein,’ but not any more.

‘In the Mood for Love’ and ‘As Good As It Gets’ are my favourites from the post-Lunchbox era. This transformative journey commenced with a simple, unassuming film from 2013 directed by Ritesh Batra—‘The Lunchbox.’

The Lunchbox: A Lens into Realism

This movie is not just for a weekend entertainment; it offered me a fresh lens through which I could explore the nuanced, unspoken dialect of human connections.

The movie is set in the bustling life of Mumbai, home to the renowned dabbawalas and their near-perfect lunch delivery system. However, an unusual mix-up one day led a dabbawala to exchange lunchboxes, it became the link for an unexpected companionship between Saajan Fernandez and Ila.

As an accountant on the brink of retirement, Saajan’s character reflects every scene with an air of melancholy that resonates with anyone who has ever gone through loneliness once.

Saajan’s routine commute to work begins with a Mumbai urban bus ride, accompanied by a stop at his late wife’s grave before heading to his mundane accountant job.

On the other hand, we have Ila. Movie begins with Ila, a housewife who tries to get her husband’s attention by making tasty lunches for him. She thinks the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Her neighbor, Deshpande aunty, helps her out with recipes, joking that her husband will build her a Taj Mahal after tasting the food. Ila sends a lunchbox to her husband’s office using a dabbawala.

From Salty to Sweet: The Beginning

When fate humorously redirects Ila’s delicious lunchbox to Saajan, Saajan’s response to the first meal is precisely what you’d expect from a lonely accountant uncle – “Dear Ila, the food was very salty today.”

That’s all he has to say about the meal Ila put her heart into. However, this complaint marks the beginning of a unique bond between two lonely souls. Here begins the beautiful tale of ‘The Lunchbox’.

What follows is a series of letters exchanged between Saajan and Ila.

Saajan’s letters give a glimpse into his life and the changing world around him, like when he mentions,

“Life is very busy these days. There are too many people and everyone wants what the other has. Years ago you could find a place to sit on the train every now and then but these days it is difficult…When my wife died she got a horizontal burial plot. I tried to buy a burial plot for myself the other day and what they offered me was a vertical one. I spent my whole life standing in trains and buses and now I will have to stand even when I am dead.”

This newfound mode of communication allows them to open up in ways they hadn’t with anyone else before.

This is where I want to tell you, ‘The Lunchbox’ isn’t merely a story of romantic inklings; it’s just one layer of it.

Why The Lunchbox is More Than a Romantic Film

The Lunchbox is a film that explores a wide range of human emotions and relationships through its simple but powerful storytelling. It’s not just a love story between Ila and Saajan. It’s also a story about several characters who are searching for comfort and connection in their mundane loneliness.

Every character in ‘The Lunchbox’ has a touch of loneliness. Ila is trying hard to bring back the missing spark in her marriage; Saajan, a sad widower stuck in the same office job for over thirty-five years without even a friendly chat with his office neighbor; Aslam, the orphan seeking familial bonds; and the Deshpande couple, each lost in their own realm of silence. Even young Yashvi, Ila’s daughter, seems quiet and serious throughout the movie. Something not common for a child of her age.

Maybe this is the same reason, why I am obsessed with the characters of ‘Lootera’ and there Pakhi resonates with the same echo of solitude.

What Lies Beyond Romance in The Lunchbox?

Lens 1

There are multiple instances where The Lunchbox proves that it’s talking about human connections, a deep bond that’s formed between people when they feel seen and valued—not a curious attraction or mere romance.

One line from Saajan beautifully captures the underlying theme of his and Ila’s shared bonding: “I think we forget things if we have no one to tell them to.” This simple line tells us about the deep need we humans have for connection. It also shows how good it feels to find someone to share our everyday moments with, whether they’re boring or happy. Aslam, Deshpande Aunty, Saajan, and Ila are all looking for this kind of connection.

Just like Ila is searching for a new spice to rekindle her husband’s affection, each character is searching for something missing in their lives, and that missing piece is a bond to share!

In addition, look at the vegetable Ila chosen for her delicious dishes. Bitter Guard, Baby pumpkin aka Tinde & even Brinjal —could be a metaphor for their unconventional life choices, or maybe it seems like a gentle reflection of narrative’s core, where bitter experiences pave the path to the sweet essence of companionship, understanding, and perhaps a subtle hint of romance as well.

Lens 2

The Lunchbox is a film that celebrates the unity and diversity of the human connections. The characters in the film come from different shades of life though they are connected beautifully like a string of pearls.

Saajan’s poetic observation is a beautiful example of this. In a scene, Saajan explains his reflections on a painter’s works, “I felt like stopping to look at a painter’s works. All his paintings are exactly the same but when you look close, real close, you can see that they are different, each slightly different from the other…”

After that letter, Ila is sharing her memories with her daughter.

He sees himself in one of those paintings; he compares people to paintings, noting that they may all seem similar at first glance, but when you look closely, you can see the unique differences that make each individual special.

This is exactly what you are seeing in the film. In one angle, they all are same. But if you look close, you will see the differences.

Aslam is a Muslim, Saajan is a Christian, and Ila is a Hindu. Saajan writes in Queen’s English, I never heard someone referring to a ‘Brinjal’ as an ‘Aubergine’ and Ila replies in Hindi.

Deshpande Aunty and Ila share a deep emotional bond, even though they do not have a visual connection. This is because they are both able to sense and understand each other’s feelings.

Here communication goes beyond language, diversities, and limitations; it’s tapping into the essence of human connection.

The Lunchbox and its Painful Romance

In the romantic parts, Saajan’s sadness really hits you when he opens up to Ila, saying that he can only dream through her young hopes. He mentions, “No one buys yesterday’s lottery ticket.” This is a honest way to say that his own dreams are fading away.

But Saajan’s thank you to Ila is really heartwarming. He tells her, “You are young, you can dream. And for some time you let me into your dreams and I want to thank you for that.” You can really feel that he means it.

As the story moves on, Saajan sees that life still has more for him to experience. This part leaves you smiling with hope.

The movie gently encourages us to find the sweetness in the bitter, to look beyond the ordinary, and to appreciate the simple joys that life places in our everyday lives.

In doing so, The Lunchbox is not just a movie; it is a gentle nudge to appreciate the unspoken, the unexpressed, and the unnoticed nuances of human connections around us. In the beginning of the movie, we see Saajan’s neighbour, a young girl, closing the window on him, but by the end, that same little girl is waving at Saajan, and Saajan smiles back.

Reheating The Lunchbox: A Cliched Angle on the Ending

The ending of The Lunchbox really a debatable topic. The internet is full of explanations on climax interpretations. At first, I liked open endings but not recently, since, it confuses us.

Here are my two cents on The Lunchbox ending.

A part of me, maybe the pessimist Akhil, thinks that Ila might have given up and ended her life. When she took off her jewellery, it reminded me of the lady who jumped from the terrace to find peace (news in the movie).

Positive Akhil looks into Deshpande Aunty tells Ila that she was able to clean a running fan. Could this news have given Ila the courage to clear up her own life’s messes? Will the train bring Fernandez to Ila before she leaves? I hope so, deeply.

The Lunchbox tells the stories of people tied together by thin strings of chance: a dabbawala’s mistake, voices across the old walls of a worn building, a basket dropped from one window to another. A lonely man and his letters, a housewife and her delicacies… Through life’s unsure moments, they all found relief in a unexpected bonds, and in the midst of loneliness, sparks of connection showed up, warming the hearts stuck in life’s endless give and take.

The Lunchbox is an experience about the simple everyday interactions between people that make a difference. Experience it!

Siya(2022): A Journey Through the Dark Corners of Indian Democracy

Before I talk about the movie Siya, let me share some horrible incidents with you.

Case – 1

On September 14, 2020, a case was registered at the Hathras police station in Uttar Pradesh, India, under number 194/2020. The victim was a 19-year-old Dalit woman who was gang-raped and brutally assaulted by four men from an influential family.

The four accused men dragged the victim into a field and gang-raped her. They also tried to strangle her to death. The victim was found lying unconscious in the field by some villagers. She was rushed to a hospital in Hathras.

The police were able to record the victim’s statement on September 22(After the protest). She died on September 29, 2020.

On the night of September 29, at around 2:30 am, the victim was cremated by the Uttar Pradesh Police without the consent or knowledge of the victim’s family. Petrol was used for the cremation.

When the news initially broke through social media, the Agra Police, Hathras District Magistrate, and UP’s Information & Public Relations department dismissed it as “fake news.”

A video surfaced in which the Hathras District Magistrate can be seen pressuring the family to alter their statement. He was heard saying, “Don’t ruin your credibility. These media people will leave in a couple of days. Half have already left, the rest will leave in 2-3 days. We are the ones standing with you. Now it depends on you if you want to keep changing your testimony…”

Inhumane Actions For Defence

On October 2, the head of BJP’s IT cell, Amit Malviya, tweeted a video of the 19-year-old victim, revealing her face, allegedly violating Section 228A of the Indian Penal Code.

On October 4, Rajveer Singh Pehelwan, a former MLA of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), organized a rally in support of the accused. The rally garnered hundreds of attendees, including family members of the four accused.

A BJP leader, Ranjeet Srivastava, claimed the accused were not guilty of the crime. He further questioned, “Such girls are found dead only in specific places. They are discovered in sugarcane, corn, and millet fields, or in bushes, gutters, or forests. Why are they never found dead in paddy or wheat fields?“

Another statement that drew fierce criticism came from BJP MLA Surendra Nath Singh, who suggested that “Sanskar should be instilled in girls to prevent incidents of rape.“

Reports from The Wire and other sources indicated that the Uttar Pradesh government engaged Concept PR, a Mumbai-based public relations firm. Allegedly, the PR firm released press statements on behalf of the government, asserting that the Hathras teenager was not raped.

Some Actions

The Hathras police arrested the four accused—Sandeep, Ramu, Lavkush, and Ravi—on charges of attempted murder and gang rape.

On March 2, 2023, the Hathras district court acquitted three of the four accused—Ramu, Luvkush, and Ravi. The fourth accused, Sandeep, was convicted of culpable homicide not amounting to murder (IPC Section 304) and offenses under the SC/ST Act. However, he was not found guilty of rape and murder, receiving a life imprisonment sentence along with a fine of ₹50,000.

The State government, led by Yogi Adityanath, and the district administration announced a compensation of ₹2.5 million (US$31,000) for the victim’s family. Additionally, they offered a junior assistant job to a family member. Furthermore, the family will be allocated a house in Hathras under the State Urban Development Agency (SUDA) scheme.

Case – 2

This is infamous 2017 Unnao Rape Case.

The 2017 Unnao rape case involved the gang rape and assault of a 17-year-old girl in Unnao, Uttar Pradesh, India. The incident occurred on June 4, 2017.

According to the victim’s statement, she was enticed by a woman named Shashi Singh, along with her son, Shubham Singh, and daughter, Nidhi Singh, to relocate to Kanpur with promises of securing a job.

On the night of June 11, 2017, she accompanied Shubham Singh and allegedly endured multiple instances of rape by him and his driver, Awdhesh Tiwari.

On June 21, 2017, 17 days later, the victim was found in a village in Auraiya district, Uttar Pradesh. She received medical treatment for her injuries at a hospital in Lucknow.

The police recorded her statement on June 22, but prevented her from identifying one of her assailants BJP MLA Kuldeep Singh Sengar.

Apr 3, 2018: Rape survivor’s father is beaten up by MLA’s brother and his goons.

Though both sides lodge complaints against each other, the police choose to arrest only her father and he is sent to judicial custody. Her father dies in police custody. The post-mortem report lists the cause of death to be “blood poisoning due to perforation of colon”. It also lists multiple injuries on his body.

Prior to his death, he accused Atul, the brother of Sengar, of leading the assault. However, no action was taken in response to this complaint at the time.

On April 8, 2018, the victim attempted self-immolation at the residence of Yogi Adityanath, the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh.

April 11, 2018: The victim and her family are confined to a hotel room on the pretext of protection, without water or electricity.

Getting Worse

April 12, 2018: Sengar, Atul Singh and their accomplices are arrested by the CBI.

April 14, 2018: The CBI makes a second arrest in the Unnao rape case . It takes into custody the woman who allegedly took the girl to Sengar on the day of the crime.

July 2, 2018: The uncle of the victim is convicted in a 19-year-old case of attempt to murder that had been filed by Atul Singh. He is sentenced to 10 years in prison by a district court.

July 28, 2018: A Rae Bareli truck-car collision leaves the girl and her lawyer critically injured. Two of the victim’s aunts are killed in the accident. The victim, who is battling for her life in a hospital in Lucknow with multiple fractures, head and chest injuries, and her lawyer are on ventilator support.

"Our MLA is innocent" on the wall & the victim is passing — “Our MLA is innocent” on the wall & the victim is passing

On December 16, 2019, Sengar was found guilty of rape and sentenced to life imprisonment. His associates were also convicted and received varying prison terms.

Azadi ka Amrit Mahotsav

As we celebrate Azadi ka Amrit Mahotsav, marking 75 years of our independence, we find ourselves questioning the very essence of our freedom. Has it truly manifested? Can we truly call ourselves free when there is an evident shift of power from one oppressive regime to another? Britishers may have left us, but did they leave a vacuum only to be filled by illiterate criminals?

Who should we blame for this?

The responsibility, I believe, falls upon each one of us. We, the citizens of India, who possess the right to vote, have the right to choose who shall represent us and who shall guide us.

There’s a saying, “Politicians are like diapers; we should change them frequently, otherwise it stinks.” Well, power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. A truth that most of us have learned through life experiences, but do we act upon it?

Politics in our country seems to have become a playground for the criminals and oligarchs. Once an individual assumes a political position, they cling to power like a leech for their entire life.

South-North-West all same

States like Tamil Nadu, Telangana, West Bengal, Bihar and Karnataka all reflect the same issue:

Look at Tamil Nadu; one family has been ruling the state for years. Go to Telangana; one person is ruling the state like there is no alternative. Look at Karnataka; it’s either Siddharamaiyya or Yedyurappa. On the national level, we have dynasty politics, or ultra-right-wing politics.

Our collectivist culture, our admiration of heroism—it’s not wrong! But when it transforms into blind admiration and political slavery, we must recognise and correct it.

If you are a communist, no matter what, you try to defend the party. You want that party to be in power, no matter how corrupt or fascist they are.

If you are a BJP supporter, you don’t care who your CM is or what they do. You just want to see the saffron flag waving.

It’s not about the party we support or the colour of the flag we want to see waving. It’s about who represents us and shapes our future.

Remember the atrocities that have been committed under these ultimatums of power? The VYAPAM scandal (Over 40 deaths, still a mystery) or the Balrampur gang rape—the list goes on.

Just like in our Telugu movies, where the common man bows down to the hero, the “devudu”, we too find ourselves bowing to these politicians and bureaucrats, suffering their injustices.

Siya – Untold story of 1000s of girls

Siya is Manish Mundra’s directorial debut, starring Pooja Pandey and Vineet Kumar Singh.

I am happy that I choose Siya over Adipurush today.

I believe Adhipurush is the past, and Siya is about my present and future.

Siya, a 17-year-old rape survivor, is being held captive and repeatedly abused by a group of powerful men.
She had two options: “endure in silence” or “fight injustice bravely.”
She chose the second option.

Siya decides to go against all odds and fight for justice. The film talks about how the police and politicians using their power to suppress the truth and oppress the oppressed.

Pooja Pandey, the lead character, beautifully plays her part as a simple, obedient, yet courageous woman. She doesn’t transform into a fiery fighter instantly; the character’s progression is remarkable.

Vineet Kumar Singh stands out as a modest lawyer who handles notary work and refuses to be intimidated by the police, providing strong support to Siya.

Siya is available at Zee5 with subtitles.

Siya & Her Question

We need more directors like Manish Mundra. Here, don’t expect the usual one woman, one man spectacle heroism. It’s a mirror, not a screen.

You are about to witness the experiences of past victims that we discussed. How you and I let them suffer. How cruel our society is. Watch it and feel our shared guilt.

People in power often escape consequences, and yes, sometimes they do get caught, but by then, the victim may have lost everything.

Siya asks us a question:

What good is justice when neither the victim nor her family will live to see it served?

This 1 hour and 50-minute movie serves as a reminder. If a politician or bureaucrat could abuse your sister or kill your brother tomorrow, how would you fight?

A drunk IAS officer killed a journalist in Kerala, yet the police saved him with dialysis, and he remains in power. Where is justice for the victim and his family?

Change your diapers before the smell becomes unbearable.