Years ago, she received a chilling message, “Mera intkam dekhegi.” All she did was say no, refusing to continue the relationship. Though the words should have sounded like just another famous, laughable dialogue, in that moment, they were more than enough to make her feel she had done something wrong. Her hands trembled, her body was drenched in sweat, and her voice choked.
Sadly, this isn't just the story of one woman. It's a reality that has been normalized over time. The line between real life and fiction has blurred so much that what should be considered seriously unacceptable is often dismissed as trivial or inconsequential.
Bollywood effect - Dialogues such as mera intekaam dekhegi and ladki ki naa mein hi haan hoti hai often find a wide audience and a laugh, eventually becoming part of everyday vocabulary. Lines such as mard ko dard nahi hota, ladki ki naa mein hi haan hoti hai, tu sirf meri hai may sound harmless, but often echo a loud and clear message of the repercussions a woman must face for saying no. These dialogues have created an ecosystem where obsession is shown as real love and rejection is viewed as a challenge to keep persisting until you win. The constant reinforcement of this message again and again through films has strongly passed down the message that women should be won over, if not today, tomorrow; she is a prize, a trophy, a game, everything but not a human with any autonomy. Through such messaging, society gives itself a free pass to impose on women, shaping how wrongly people perceive rejection, consent, and relationships.
Indian cinema is an inseparable part of our lives, known not only for entertainment but also for powerful storytelling in films like Mother India and Anand, reflecting how deeply it influences our emotions, values, and perspectives. The stories we watch and the content we consume become the norms we accept, consciously or subconsciously. Bollywood and its songs reach children from a very young age. Initially, they do not understand the lyrics, but as they grow, they begin to perceive them through the lens of what they see and hear around them, absorbing harmful ideas about love and relationships. In India, where almost everyone grows up watching Bollywood, its impact on our collective mindset is undeniable.
Movies often depict women through a deeply patriarchal lens, portraying them as victims, helpless figures, or objects of desire, and rarely as independent individuals thriving without a man. The idea that proposals require relentless pursuit, and that everything is fair in love and war, no matter how many times a woman says no, is repeatedly romanticized. These stories often conclude with a so-called “happy ending,” where the woman regrets not recognizing the hero's love earlier and laments her past decisions. Such narratives distort the idea of consent and normalize misogynistic behavior that, in reality, can be life-threatening.
The constant glamorization of stalking, emotional manipulation, and threats of violence in the name of love normalizes toxic behavior. Films and songs repeatedly portray persistence as a virtue, suggesting that if a man tries hard enough, a "no" will eventually turn into a "yes." This dangerous narrative puts countless women at risk, creating an environment where harassment is disguised as passion and a woman’s refusal is seen as temporary. Women are pressured, threatened, and harmed, all because society continues to justify such behavior with the familiar excuse that "men will be men."
In recent years, movies like Kabir Singh and Animal, which gained massive popularity in a short span of time, have glorified intense male anger, possessiveness, and dominance as signs of passionate love and care. When Kabir Singh was released, it created huge hype and sparked widespread debates. Many praised the movie, claiming they could watch it over and over again. However, beneath its popular music lies a troubling message that normalizes male dominance and toxic masculinity. Animals followed the same pattern, portraying aggressive male behavior as acceptable and even desirable. These films send out a clear signal: women must be controlled and silenced whenever male counterparts decide, all under the guise of love and care. What often goes unnoticed is how deeply these portrayals influence audiences, making such behavior seem normal and even romantic.
From the Director's Lens- Director Sandeep Reddy Vanga may have stormed the box office with both Kabir Singh and Animal, but his movies have consistently ignited controversies for glorifying violence and presenting it as something entirely normal, something he describes as “real love.” In an interview with Film Companion’s Anupama Chopra, he dismissed the criticism, calling his portrayal “honest and raw love.” Similarly, during an interview for Animal, he outright rejected the backlash, labeling his critics as “illiterate and undereducated.” He further added that if morality became a criterion for storytelling, “we should stop making films and start making cartoons.” His remarks highlight an unsettling issue: many filmmakers fail to recognise the profound impact movies have on Indian audiences. In a country where films are an integral part of culture and where cinema has a long history of reinforcing the idea that a woman’s identity is tied to a man’s, their narratives are often absorbed uncritically. This normalisation runs so deep that even women laugh off films like Thappad, which challenge these very ideas.
In contrast, films like Thappad and Gangubai Kathiawadi challenge these toxic narratives by highlighting women’s autonomy and dignity. Thappad addresses the often-brushed-aside issue of domestic violence in a powerful way, emphasizing that no act of violence, no matter how small, is tolerable and absolutely not normal. It forces viewers to rethink the tendency to brush off abuse as insignificant. However, the audience also bears some responsibility for perpetuating this mindset by saying, “Aisa nahin hota hai,” expressing disbelief that such realities exist or could happen to them. Similarly, Gangubai Kathiawadi presents the story of a woman who was betrayed but still carved out a space for herself and hundreds of others through courage and resilience. Despite its powerful message, many avoid watching such films because they feel uncomfortable confronting these truths. Together, these films offer a much-needed shift in Indian cinema, portraying women as human beings deserving of their space, respect, and agency.
Indian cinema is more than just a source of entertainment. It holds unimaginable influence over the minds of people across the country. It shapes mindsets, reinforces views, and often fuels harmful stereotypes, contributing to a culture that promotes violence, manipulation, and discrimination against women. Indian cinema has the potential to become a powerful tool for transformation, not one that perpetuates damaging narratives. And the responsibility lies not just with filmmakers, but with all of us to demand stories that honour women, not demean them, and to support narratives that portray women as human beings, not objects.