Bollywood की अशलील Films

After reading my previous post on joke outrage on a YouTube show, a reader informed me that the outrage happens because of the internet…I said, No!! it's not medium or even content, it's people and culture!!!

If there is one thing India loves more than Bollywood, it’s being outraged by Bollywood. It’s a national sport, right up there with cricket and arguing with relatives about politics. Every few years, a film comes along that sends the moral guardians of the nation into a collective meltdown. The offense? Maybe a hint of cleavage, an actor uttering a forbidden word, or—heaven forbid—a woman experiencing sexual pleasure without looking guilty about it. The response is as predictable as a Salman Khan movie: protests, vandalism, court cases, and the inevitable PIL (Public Interest Litigation, or, as it should be called, Public Interference Lunacy).

Before Satyam Shivam Sundaram, Raj Kapoor had already scandalised India with Bobby (1973) and Mera Naam Joker (1970). Bobby had parents panicking over Dimple Kapadia’s swimsuit, while Mera Naam Joker shocked audiences with a topless Russian actress (strategically shot, of course). Meanwhile, Guide (1965) caused moral outrage simply because Waheeda Rehman’s character left her husband and pursued independence—an idea so radical that traditionalists nearly burst into flames. Though these films faced resistance, they are now hailed as classics, proving that if a movie sparks outrage, it’s probably just ahead of its time.

My knowledge about Bollywood’s most “scandalous” films begins with 1978, Satyam Shivam Sundaram, a movie so ahead of its time that people are still debating whether it was about spirituality or simply an elaborate excuse to film Zeenat Aman wearing almost nothing. Raj Kapoor, Bollywood’s original showman, decided that sheer fabric was the best way to convey purity, and India had a collective heart attack. The case went all the way to the Supreme Court, where highly respectable judges had to sit and analyse whether too much skin was being shown. The verdict? “Art should not be judged by the standards of the prudish.” Translation: Everyone, please calm down.

Of course, nobody calmed down, which is why just a few years later, Raj Kapoor once again found himself in the middle of a scandal with Ram Teri Ganga Maili (1985). This time, the culprit was Mandakini, who had the audacity to bathe under a waterfall while wearing a white sari—an act so offensive that people simply had to keep watching it over and over again just to make sure they were truly outraged. The real scandal, however, came from a breastfeeding scene, because, apparently, the sight of a mother feeding her baby is more disturbing than all the violent, item-song-filled misogyny in Bollywood combined. The censor board, caught between puritan outrage and the film’s massive popularity, initially granted it a ‘U’ (Universal) certificate before suddenly realising their mistake and changing it to ‘U/A.’ A classic case of “Oops, we forgot Indian culture isn’t ready for realism.”

Fast forward to 1994, when Bandit Queen crashed into theatres like an uninvited guest at a family wedding, refusing to be ignored. Based on the life of Phoolan Devi, the film was brutally real and unflinching in its depiction of sexual violence, something Indian audiences weren’t used to unless it was romanticised in the name of love. The Delhi High Court, feeling personally victimised by the film’s raw intensity, promptly banned it, because clearly, the best way to address a problem is to pretend it doesn’t exist. Thankfully, the Supreme Court had a moment of clarity and overturned the ban, reminding everyone that just because something is uncomfortable doesn’t mean it should be censored. The film was released, India gasped, and then promptly moved on to the next controversy.

That next controversy comes in my mind is of Fire (1996), a film so revolutionary that it suggested—brace yourself—women can love women. Predictably, this revelation was too much for certain groups, who took time out of their busy schedule of being offended by everything to attack cinema halls, tear down posters, and demand that the film be banned. Shiv Sena activists, evidently Bollywood’s unofficial film critics, vandalised theatres in Mumbai and Delhi. But then something unexpected happened—audiences fought back. In Kolkata, when protestors tried to disrupt a screening, the theatre owners and viewers refused to back down. For once, outrage lost, and the movie played on, proving that sometimes, cinema wins over censorship.

By the 2000s, Bollywood’s scandals were no longer just about visuals; words, themes, and even casting choices became reasons to riot. Ek Chhotisi Love Story (2002) was supposed to be a coming-of-age romance, but it quickly turned into a full-fledged legal drama when Manisha Koirala sued the director for using a body double without her permission. Bal Thackeray personally took up her cause, because, as everyone knows, Shiv Sena has always been deeply concerned about women’s rights (except when they’re shutting down films for being too feminist). The court case delayed the release, and by the time the film actually hit theatres, nobody really cared anymore.

By the 2010s, Bollywood had evolved (slightly), but outrage had not. The Dirty Picture (2011) was marketed as a biopic but also happened to have Vidya Balan in some incredibly risqué outfits, which meant scandal was inevitable. Silk Smitha’s family filed a case, arguing that the film tarnished her image (as if Bollywood needed a film to do that). Meanwhile, a Hyderabad court, always eager to protect Indian morals, issued an FIR against Vidya Balan for promoting obscenity. In an act of peak hypocrisy, TV channels initially agreed to broadcast the film but then delayed it indefinitely, because apparently, women dancing suggestively is fine in item numbers, but not in a National Award-winning performance.

Meanwhile, Delhi Belly (2011) introduced a new scandal—language. The film featured expletives, casual cursing, and a song that cleverly disguised profanity as lyrics (“DK Bose” fooled approximately zero people). PILs were filed, newspapers declared it the end of Bollywood’s decency, and theatres braced for riots. But instead of outrage killing the film, it made it even more popular, proving that the fastest way to get young audiences into theatres is to tell them a movie is too vulgar to watch.

Then came Jism 2 (2012), which was accused of being a threat to Indian culture not for its content, but for featuring Sunny Leone, an actual former porn star. Never mind that half of Bollywood’s films are one bad decision away from softcore content—this was different, apparently. PILs were filed demanding a ban, protests were staged, and Mumbai authorities even ordered the removal of its posters from public spaces, as if that would stop anyone from watching it.

By 2013, Bollywood had fully embraced the sex-comedy genre, leading to Grand Masti (2013) and Mastizaade (2016), both of which were essentially two-hour-long compilations of innuendos. Courts got involved, FIRs were filed, and yet, the films were still released. Meanwhile, Unfreedom (2015) wasn’t even given a chance. The CBFC outright banned it, claiming that its themes of lesbian love and terrorism were just too much for the Indian public to handle.

But the best controversy of the decade belonged to Lipstick Under My Burkha (2017), a film about female desire that was initially banned because it was “too lady-oriented.” Yes, really. The term became an instant meme, Twitter exploded in protest, and even people who had no idea what the film was about suddenly wanted to watch it. The Film Certification Appellate Tribunal finally stepped in, reversed the ban, and the film was released to critical acclaim, proving that the fastest way to make a feminist movie popular is to try and suppress it.

…and the list goes on!!!

it's not medium or content, it's people’s perceptions that creates an Outrage. Outrage is temporary, but good storytelling lasts. And no matter what, art and bollywood will always find a way to scandalise, because, honestly, it’s just too much fun watching people freak out over a movie.