It was an energising weekend outing when we went to watch Chaava, a movie based on the life of Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj, the son of the great Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj. The plan was beautifully put together by some school kids who are close family friends. They not only chose the movie thoughtfully but also managed all the logistics so smoothly that the rest of us just had to show up and enjoy. I must also say, I was quite impressed by their mature take on the movie after we stepped out of the theatre.

As the powerful scenes from Chaava depicting valour, sacrifice and leadership unfolded, I found myself back in my school days. Some good memories, some regrets, and some frustration toward the system surfaced. I’ll talk about those in the following sections.

The Story That Unfolded

From the very beginning, the movie pulled us into the fierce, uncertain times of 17th-century India. We watched as Sambhaji Maharaj carried the heavy crown left behind by his father, not just as a king, but as a warrior, a leader, and a protector of his people and their rights.

Right away, it felt as if the filmmakers were drawing a comparison between two different leadership styles. One was Sambhaji Maharaj's who led all his battles from the front, standing in the battlefield with his soldiers, sharing the same hardships, dangers, and victories. While being a strong warrior, he was also full of kindness, humility, and forgiveness. His leadership was not based on orders, fear, and power, but on example and values. That’s what made people follow him with complete trust and loyalty.

The other was Aurangzeb's, who stayed behind in the safety of a capital or a fortified camp, sending wave after wave of generals and soldiers to do his bidding. The cruelty of Aurangzeb’s tactics, the dishonour in how he captured Sambhaji, and the inhumanity in how he treated him weren’t just historical facts. These were signs of failed leadership.

A Question That Stayed with Me

Sambhaji's leadership deeply moved me. It reminded me of a conversation I had with my teacher during my high school days. One of our teachers often attributed many aspects of modern India to foreign influence. Like the British gave us railways and English, the Portuguese introduced certain foods and customs, and the Arabs and Mongols brought their own touches to our art and architecture. One day, driven by a mix of curiosity and quiet frustration, I asked him, “Sir, then what is truly ours?”

He paused for a moment, smiled, and said, “Our leadership style. Our kings led from the front. They didn’t sit in forts or palaces and send others to die. They stood with their people. That is what is truly ours.”

That answer stayed with me. Watching Chaava brought that memory rushing back. I realised how little we were taught in school about such incredible examples of Indian leadership. We knew dates and wars, but we didn’t learn the values behind them. We knew rulers’ names, but not their character.

Sambhaji’s Forgiveness and Its Limits

What also struck me about Sambhaji was his forgiving nature. After surviving an assassination attempt orchestrated by his stepmother and some courtiers, he chose to forgive them. He gave them a chance, showing restraint and trust. But they attempted to assassinate him again. Only then did he take decisive action and have them punished.

Similarly, one scene shows that after a celebration, Sambhaji is having a family dinner with some of his close confidants. During that chit-chat, his brothers-in-law, Kanhoji and Ganoji, demanded an unfair share in the kingdom. He reacted furiously at first, but eventually forgave them. However, they didn’t change and used Sambhaji's trust against him. Their betrayal ran deeper, leading to Sambhaji's dreadful death. They leaked his strategic plans to Aurangzeb, leveraging which he dispatched a large force to capture Sambhaji, ultimately leading to his terrible torture and martyrdom.

Symbolism vs. Strategy: A Leader’s Dilemma

When Aurangzeb sent a massive force to capture Sambhaji, several of Sambhaji’s generals urged him to retreat temporarily to a safer location. They had made arrangements for his safety, but Sambhaji refused. He chose instead to face the advancing army head-on. Was this a wise decision? It’s difficult to say. On one hand, this act may have ignited a powerful sense of resistance among the Marathas, proving that their king would never abandon the battlefield. On the other hand, it might have cost them a capable leader too soon.

This raises a question worth reflecting on even today: Should leaders always act symbolically, or must they strategise based on the enemy they face? Especially when the opponent is driven by deceit and cruelty, as Aurangzeb was. Sambhaji’s choice was undeniably brave, but was it the most strategic one? That is a question history leaves for us to ponder.

The Queen Who Led by Strength

While Sambhaji’s brave stand ended in his capture and death, the fight for the Maratha Empire continued, carried forward by those who stood beside him. One such remarkable figure was his wife, Yesubai, who had already been a strong political leader and administrator. History says she continued to lead with the same courage and determination, managing the empire’s affairs during tumultuous times.

The movie also portrayed her as a decisive leader who stepped up in moments of crisis, even when Sambhaji was ruling. One remarkable episode the film brings to light is how Yesubai unravelled and neutralised a deadly conspiracy plotted by her stepmother-in-law and some court members to assassinate Sambhaji. She stood tall as a true guardian of both her family and the kingdom.

Another notable scene was when her kin demanded an unfair share from the kingdom. Instead of yielding under emotional pressure, she firmly reprimanded them and stayed true to her responsibility. It was a subtle yet powerful moment, and a credit to the filmmakers for weaving in such layers without being preachy.

These scenes highlighted not just Yesubai’s personal courage but her pivotal political role. Far more than just Sambhaji’s companion, she was a sharp political mind and a powerful pillar of the Maratha Empire.

I wonder why we don’t hold up such figures as icons of real strength and feminism, grounded in responsibility and wisdom.

The Power of Collective Leadership

As I reflected on the kinds of role models we present to our society, another thought came to me while watching the movie was about the bravery of many unsung warriors, generals, advisors, and soldiers that the movie portrayed. These people stood by Sambhaji till the very end. For them, giving up on their values and resolve was not an option, even if it meant certain death. These were not just background characters. They were loyal, value-driven individuals that any society needs. They fought not for power or money, but for their dharma and their people.

This stands in stark contrast to another Bollywood movie I watched in the past, which subtly showed a cop as guilty for not giving up his duty to attend his child’s birthday. His wife was shown as strong and fair for asking for a divorce because of his dedication to duty. Even more concerning was how, in later situations, other policemen and leaders indirectly supported her stance, encouraging the cop to prioritise his private affairs next time. Such messaging calls for serious introspection.

We really need to reflect on what kind of icons we want to celebrate in modern society. This isn’t just about history or entertainment. It’s about shaping minds and defining our collective future.

The Question We Need to Ask

While watching Chaava, and even now, one question keeps echoing in my mind: Why didn’t we grow up talking about such stories? Why are these still not mainstream discussions? Why did our history books focus so much on invaders and so little on protectors? Why do we know so much about the "greatness, love, and beauty" behind the Taj Mahal but so little about the courage of Sambhaji, Yesubai, and their army?

We left the theatre with heavy hearts but inspired minds. We didn’t just watch a film. We remembered a legacy and understood what kind of leadership our soil has always had. We only need to bring those stories back to the forefront.