Open Thread: Bharat wins at Norway Chess, but something is off with Bollywood

Our 2026 reader survey is open until 7 June – anonymous, roughly five minutes. Please take a moment.


We are travelling, but South Indians, Tamilians?, are crushing it at chess. Praggnanandhaa took Norway Chess in Oslo this week with four straight classical wins to close, past Wesley So and over Gukesh on the way.

Which confirms the theory we have been quipping all trip: India, that is Bharat, owns the letter C. Chess, plainly. Cricket, obviously. Cuisine, beyond dispute. Culture, increasingly. Conversation, certainly (Desis are loud and loquacious). Caste, come to think of it..

However there is one C that has curdled: Cinema.

We caught the otherwise excellent Vadh 2 on the road. One scene was so gratuitously disturbing that we can’t shake it out of our minds.

Since Sacred Games, the sex and gore on Netflix India have not been there to serve a story. They are there to stimulate, and the audience being titillated are India’s masses. A young, idle, frustrated population is easiest to hold with sensation, so that is what is fed. This is not film-making. It is sedation at scale, and a restless country kept watching is silenced from increasing inequity (the largess of the Oligarchics) but perhaps deepening in rage (the constant ire at minorities)?

Ps: The Commentariat may also enjoy our newsletter piece on Mission Chandrayaan (Aug’23) witten prior to our re-engagement with BP, which we essentially inaugurated with Telugu being the Italian of the East (Sep’24).

The Newsletter and BP both started to kick off at roughly the same time; we decided to focus on BP since Substack is full of individual Auteurs but BP has a very venerable community, which we wanted to honour. The survey results are trickling through but what is astonishing is how sticky readers have been over this long decade and a half (BP will be 16 years in December; probably the oldest continuing Brown Blog on the internet).

Pps: Last call on the survey before it closes tomorrow.

Look closely and you may “see” what we have done throughout this post 🙂

.

The Long Dark Night for India’s Muslims

Our own Hindufication

We write this not as outsiders pretending to diagnose India, but as people who have undergone a gentler version of the same process. Over fifteen years of family and work on the subcontinent, our own Islamicate inheritance has been quietly sifted. The Persianate was retained. The Arabic was allowed to fall away. The qawwali, the food, the manners, the ghazal, the Mughal grammar of taste. All survived. The devotional Islamicate self did not. We arrived as something close to a Anglo-Islamicate hybrid. We are leaving, slowly, as a Hindu-Persianate one. We did not plan this. We watched it happen to ourselves.

The Persian survives. The Arabic does not. The poetry survives. The prayer does not. This is the formula. Once you see it, you cannot unsee it.

We made this passage with privilege, with distance, with choice, and with somewhere else to be if we changed our minds. The Indian Muslim, the one with no other passport and no other country, is being asked to make the same passage on terms set by people who never had to make it themselves. That asymmetry is this post.

The morning song

The news this week was Memo No. 470-ME, dated 19 May 2026, signed by the Director of Madrasah Education, Government of West Bengal. The order makes the singing of Vande Mataram mandatory at morning assembly in every state-recognised madrasa: government, aided, unaided, all of them. Immediate effect. Approval of competent authority.

Note the date. Suvendu Adhikari was sworn in as the first BJP Chief Minister of West Bengal on 9 May, ten days earlier, on a 207-seat mandate that ended Mamata Banerjee’s fifteen-year run. The order is ten days into the new government. Of all the actions available to a freshly-installed state administration, this is the gesture chosen. The first major item on the agenda was the Muslim schoolchild’s morning. The signal is the signal.

The Pakistani faction of our commentariat is aghast, and not unreasonably. The song is a hymn to the Great goddess Durga, drawn from a novel that called for war on Muslims, and forcing a Muslim child to recite it is a small humiliation that announces a large arrangement. One of our Pakistani commenters compared it to forcing a vegetarian Hindu to eat beef. The comparison overstates and understates at the same time. It overstates because nobody is forcing food into anyone’s mouth. It understates because food is forgotten by the afternoon, and a song sung daily for ten years writes itself into the spine.

The row is the symptom. The disease is older. Bengal is the latest frontier, not the first.

The Persianate without the Muslim

Continue reading The Long Dark Night for India’s Muslims

Dhurandhar, Netflix and the India-Pakistan Asymmetry

Netflix’s analytics for last week are out, including Pakistan. Dhurandhar: The Revenge is at the top of the Pakistan charts. The OG Dhurandhar is at 7th, completing 16 weeks in the top 10.

Even the main Netflix handle (not Netflix India, but the one based in the US) has been openly promoting the release.

Continue reading Dhurandhar, Netflix and the India-Pakistan Asymmetry

Footnotes|Bollywood, Hindu Nationalism & the Erasure of Muslims in India (Kabir’s Open Thread)

When does cinema stop being entertainment and become propaganda? Hindi film has long romanticised the nation, but what’s happening now is something else entirely. In the latest Himal Footnotes, associate editor Nayantara Narayanan sits down with film critic Anna MM Vetticad and journalist Raza Rumi to talk about how Bollywood has become a vehicle for Hindutva ideology by manufacturing mythic pasts, normalising anti-Muslim violence and lending cinematic glamour to the BJP’s political project. Using the Dhurandhar franchise as a case study, they ask harder questions about the industry: How does propaganda disguise itself as entertainment? What happens when the line between fiction and political fact-making is deliberately blurred? And what has been lost from the Hindi cinema that once held space for a more plural, secular India?

Disclosure: I know Raza Rumi and have worked with him when he was at “The Friday Times”. I was mostly doing editorial work during what was essentially a summer internship.  He has written a book about his experiences traveling in Delhi (where I believe his family was from).  The book is called Delhi By Heart: Impressions of a Pakistani Traveller.

2) Returns on multipolarity

By Umair Javed

At this admittedly early stage of a changing world order, multipolarity is cementing domestic tendencies that already prevail. The status quo, along with the economic interests aligned with it, will continue to navigate geopolitics in ways that serve regime consolidation rather than broad-based development. For that calculus to change, the three issues/ contradictions identified above would need to become the organising basis of a political challenge capable of compelling a renegotiation of state-society relations. That is a high bar. But it is the only honest answer to the question of what multipolarity can offer a country like Pakistan. The world can change its architecture without changing who benefits inside Pakistan’s borders. That part remains entirely a domestic problem and a domestic responsibility.

3) Nothing can stop the breakup of Britain. Even Farage is powerless. 

By Aris Roussinos

 

 

India and Pakistan Are Playing Chicken; simply to hurt themselves

Two comments are worth picking up on, and one claim worth interrogating.

N disagrees that contact ameliorates ties. EK suggests the only Islamicate voices the Indian RW respects are those who have “debased their own civilizational integrity.” We do not know who he is shadow-tweeting. It could be us, the Founders of this blog, who are Islamicate by heritage and recognisably friendly to Hindu right-wing readings. Either way, the framing is off. And then there is Q, on the thread as we write, claiming Pakistanis “will eventually take over the Islamicate world.

The cost of distance

The dominant idea of the last decade is that less contact means more security. Fewer visas. Less trade. No cricket. No artistic exchange. Reduced diplomatic warmth. This is sold as realism. It is, in large part, self-harm.

Distance does not produce clarity. It produces mythology. When people stop meeting one another, they begin imagining one another. The imagined neighbour is always simpler, darker, and easier to hate than the real one.

He is also, as Dhurandhar showed, sexier. Hatred and desire run on the same current. The more villainous the Pakistani on screen, the more the Indian audience leans in.

Civility is built by proximity. Not sainthood. Habituation. When people share space, study, trade, marriage, and culture, the room for fantasy narrows. One can still dislike the other side. But one dislikes actual people, not cartoons.

N’s response to this is that contact theory is “akin to blaming a victim for not engaging with the perpetrator.” That feels like the Israeli security story applied to the Indian Sub-continent. It assumes Pakistanis are a permanent terror-source requiring permanent counter-violence.

Pakistan obliges the narrative by behaving badly enough often enough to keep it alive. India obliges the frame by treating every bad actor as the median Pakistani. Both governments are now invested in the loop.

Pakistanis no longer defend hybrid Islamicate culture Continue reading India and Pakistan Are Playing Chicken; simply to hurt themselves

Brown Pundits: Traffic Report, March 2026

The Dhurandhar effect

Omar Ali’s Dhurandhar review is our highest-traffic page by a distance followed by BB’s Kohrra season 2 review. It ranks 20th on a keyword with 87,000 monthly searches in India alone. A single film review, by one writer, on one streaming title, is pulling 37% of our traffic. Continue reading Brown Pundits: Traffic Report, March 2026

The Game We Can Smell

Asha Bhosle Deserved the Lead

Asha Bhosle passed away this week.

She was one of the most recorded artists in human history. She worked with Ustad Ali Akbar Khan on Hindustani classical music late in her career. She was, by any measure, a civilisational figure. She deserved the lead.

The Disguise

The language of the liberal left has become the preferred disguise for Hinduphobia and Indophobia. This is not a new observation, but it bears repeating because it keeps working. You dress the hostility in the vocabulary of literacy rates, developmental failure, civilisational backwardness. It sounds like concern. It is not concern. If it were concern, one would ask the same questions about Pakistan. One would not, because the point was never the question. The point was the target.

The Playbook

This is what a significant segment of Muslim liberal discourse does. It has learned the language. The vocabulary is progressive. The instinct beneath it is not. It hides deeply illiberal commitments behind the cover of global left credentials. The irony is that this playbook, run long enough, galvanises exactly the forces it claims to oppose. Jews, Hindus, and other minorities watch institutional Islam operate under liberal cover and draw their own conclusions. They are not wrong to do so.

The Mughal Test

In the discourse of the Western, Muslim & Indian liberal left, a Hindu is only a good human being if they love the Mughals, especially Aurangzeb. Not merely acknowledge them, love them. Never mind that the Mughal period was, for large parts of the subcontinent, a period of genuine civilisational injury. You are not permitted to say that. You are not permitted to have a complex relationship with your own history. You must perform gratitude or be dismissed as a chauvinist.

We say this as people who have integrated Zoroastrian and Islamic history into our own civilisational understanding, not because we were required to, but because our tradition demands synthesis. That is our path. It is not everyone’s path, and Hindus are not obligated to take it. Partition, on QeA & Allama Iqbal’s insistence, largely ended the experiment in synthesised civilisation on the subcontinent anyway. That wound is real and it is not healed by demanding that Hindus perform affection for the dynasty that inflicted much of it.

What Is Changing

Hindus before were easy-going. The hardcore commitment to civilisational identity belonged elsewhere. That is changing, and the people somewhat responsible for that change are the ones who spent two decades weaponising liberal language against a civilisation that mostly wanted to be left alone.

We can smell the game.

We do not like it.

Ranbir as Lord Ram: The Indus Paradox

The riveting Ramayana teaser dropped today, and Ranbir Kapoor looks the part. Imperial, restrained, emotionally loaded. But the casting raises a question Bollywood won’t ask aloud.

The male axis of Hindi cinema runs through the Indus, not the Gangetic plain. The Khans, Aamir (Afghan UP-origin), Salman (Hindu, Pathan), Shah Rukh (Delhi, Hindko-Deccani stock), are Musulman. Their anointed successors, Ranbir (Kapoor lineage from Peshawar) and Ranveer (Bhavnani, Sindhi), are Hindu but Indus-blooded all the same (Hindus of the Indus are 99.9% genetically identical to Pakistanis apparently). The geography of stardom in Bollywood is the geography of Partition.

A Kashmiri nationalist once told me, Srinagar-bred, Ivy-educated, who sang Pakistani ghazals with more feeling than most Lahoris, that Ranbir and Ranveer were being aggressively promoted to eclipse the Khans.

Of course the connective tissue of the Ranbir-Ranveer rivalry is Sonam Kapoor. She is third cousin to Ranbir through the Punjabi mafia, and second cousin to Ranveer through their Sindhi mothers. The Sindhi presence in Bollywood runs deeper than most realise; Karan Johar, Kareena Kapoor, Kiara Advani all carry it. The two men being positioned as Bollywood’s future are bound into a single pre-Partition Hindu kinship network. The contestation isn’t just cultural. It’s familial.

The man cast as Maryada Purushottam, the ideal Hindu man, the conscience-keeper of a civilisation, descends from Prithviraj Kapoor of Peshawar; a Hindu Pathan (his kinsman Anil Kapoor states on record that he is the son and grandson of a Pathan). Bollywood’s Ram comes from the other side of the Wagah.

Ranbir versus Ranveer is the wrong frame. The real question is what it means that Hindu epic cinema, ₹4,000 crore, Hans Zimmer and A.R. Rahman, DNEG VFX, global IMAX release, chose a Kapoor. The answer is that Bollywood has always understood something the BJP perhaps never quite has: the cultural power of the Subcontinent flows from its Mleccha western rivers, not its sacred eastern ones.

Continue reading Ranbir as Lord Ram: The Indus Paradox

Dhurandhar, Politics of Bollywood & India Pakistan

I had avoided the Dhurandhar hype for the last four months. I finally watched the first movie on Netflix and then read XTM’s review and watched the 2nd part in theatre. I profoundly disagreed with it—especially the line:

“By routing this grief through an anti-Pakistan narrative, the film asks Hamza to deny his Sikhness in order to become fully Indian, and frames that erasure as redemption.”

I’m not writing a formal review of the movie, but I will try to respond to a few generic questions raised on this forum and across social media regarding Dhurandhar.


Is the villain missing?

I agree with XTM that a central villain is missing in Part 1, but perhaps we should see Dhurandhar as a 7‑hour film split into two parts, rather than a standalone first installment.


Part 1 vs Part 2

Personally, I felt Part 1 was more tightly written and better dramatized. While some reviewers saw the love story as a needless distraction, I viewed it as a way to explore Hamza’s humanity despite his profession.


Is Dhurandhar Anti‑Islam?

On the contrary, I felt the filmmakers went out of their way to separate the issue of anti‑India terrorism from Islam—despite the fact that some terror groups do draw on fundamentalist interpretations of religion.
The villains are not portrayed as devout Muslims; they are not shown praying before missions. Rehman Dakait’s wife lighting his cigarette as a good‑luck gesture is a good example.

One could even argue that Dhurandhar focuses almost entirely on political motivations within Pakistan, while ignoring any potential religious motivations behind the Indo‑Pak conflict. I don’t know exactly how the ISI thinks, but I would wager that at least some religious motivations do exist—it cannot be purely political.


Is Dhurandhar Anti‑Pakistan?

Obviously, it is—but I disagree with XTM’s assertion that it dehumanizes Pakistani Muslims.
I didn’t enjoy the montage of political killings by “unknown gunmen”; it felt shallow. But it wasn’t the sort of random, gleeful violence we saw with Gaitonde in Sacred Games during the 1993 riots.

The film definitely leans dark, but I would still call it shades of grey, especially because of Hamza’s conversations with his wife.

I also believe that Major Iqbal’s character is humanized. He carries the burden of his father’s sins, and the mental torture he undergoes—while still maintaining a link to his wife and child—would break almost anyone. We can see why Major Iqbal becomes who he is. Ironically, this humanization also makes him a less effective villain than Rehman Dakait, as many reviewers have noted.


Is Dhurandhar pro‑Modi propaganda?

I may be wrong, but I felt the film used real politics—like demonetization—to weave its plot. Using real events increases impact, and I think that’s what the filmmakers were aiming for.

Does this mean it has no propaganda effect? Of course not. But compared to the list of A‑list Bollywood movies I’ve seen over the years, this is nothing unusual. We will probably see Hollywood films justifying the Iran war in a decade or so—that has always been the pattern.

If you pay attention, the film also touches upon how previous governments—Indira Gandhi’s as well as Manmohan Singh’s—played roles in shaping certain outcomes. It is not a “Modi or bust” narrative.
However, it would be blind to deny that the film does portray the Modi government’s actions toward Pakistan and terrorism in a positive light.


Jaskirat’s Arc

While I found certain aspects of the film underwhelming, I thoroughly enjoyed Jaskirat’s arc. Here, I completely disagree with XTM. The movie does not celebrate Jaskirat’s transformation into a killer—it shows the cost he pays at every step. It also explicitly shows how he is used by the establishment.

Jaskirat doesn’t become an intelligence operative because Pakistan “earned his hatred.” He becomes one because it was the best choice available to him. The film wants viewers to see the price soldiers pay for their “jobs.”

Also i absolutely do not understand why XTM thinks Jaskirat’s Sikhness is erased in the movie. Rather Jaskirat choses to travel back to Pathankot as a tired  Sikh in full Pagdi not macho silky muscly Hamza. I think going beyond this straightforward narrative into the alleged drugs, land dispute, Khalistan angle while thinking erasure of Sikhness or History is something i absolutely do not get.

 


On Hatred Being ‘Installed’

XTM claims:

“The hatred is not earned. It is installed.”

I disagree. You do see Hamza’s transformation through Lyari’s horrific violence, the betrayal of the Baloch by Rehman, and 26/11. You can see a monster being born in Lyari, but even then he retains his humanity—which becomes evident again when he reacts to killing his friend.

The movie does not end with a “happily ever after” for either Hamza or Jaskirat. It wants you to examine that, not ignore it.


My Take

I enjoyed both movies. Like XTM and many others, I agree that Part 2 has more flaws while Part 1 is far more seamless. Still, Jaskirat Singh Rangi’s arc in Part 2 is the highlight of the entire seven hours.


On India–Pakistan

Contrary to what social media suggests, India as a whole has moved on from Pakistan. You can see this from the declining obsession with India–Pakistan cricket matches compared to the 1990s and 2000s.

Yet, a significant number of Indians derive a kind of sadistic pleasure from Pakistan’s struggles. You see this reflected in reactions to news, such as Pakistan mediating in the Iran crisis—where both the Hindu right wing and the opposition twist the narrative for political ends.

If you once hated your neighbour in the slum you grew up in, would you still mock his poverty after moving into a middle‑class apartment? Or should you aspire to grow on your own terms?

This attitude towards Pakistan is self‑defeating. I honestly pity it.
My message to fellow Indians: Grow up and move on. Look East.

What if Pakistan successfully mediates in the Iran crisis? What if Pakistan continues to punch above its weight diplomatically?

If their mediation helps solve an energy crisis—unlikely, but possible—shouldn’t I, as an energy‑deficient Indian, be happy? If Pakistan’s rise ever poses a genuine risk to India, I will worry about it then. Until that point, I prefer to leave it to the agencies and the government. If Pakistan becomes richer and doesn’t support terrorism against India why would that be a bad thing ? I am not being naive but i think there is a marginal chance of Ind- Bangladesh level relations with Pakistan in 20 years if not 10. Inshallah

Brown Pundits