Hindumisia in Telugu film industry has gone to the extent of producing well-made blockbusters with A-list actors mouthing lines that convey a vicious hatred of anything Hindu. I am talking about the film ‘Shyam Singha Roy’ starring Nani and Sai Pallavi, both excellent actors.

The film is well made with a grippingly told story. Yet, the Hindumisia and the Brahmin hatred come through, and the director’s mind-colonized mentality is very visible in the way he has portrayed the ‘reformist’ hero (Christian word, refer to J.Sai Deepak’s excellent book, “India That is Bharat: Coloniality, Civilization and Constitution”).

The story is told in a story-within-story format with a re-incarnation theme. The hero portrayed by Nani is a film director in the present, with the current birth being only a wrapper for the main story which takes place in a previous birth. In this past birth, the hero (also played by Nani) is a young man living in the late 1960s. He is an atheist communist at heart, friendly with Naxalites but not joining their movement. He goes around in a Rajdoot motorcycle, and has a penchant for writing.

These depictions set the stage for what unfolds next, where the hero is shown as a ‘social reformer’. There is a scene where Dalits are denied access to a well as they are deemed unclean by other Hindus. I would like to state here that untouchability as a practice has existed in Bharat, and has caused enormous suffering to Dalits. In no way is this excusable by any logic. What unfolds next, however, is how the scene is portrayed. The Dalits are denied access to a well, and one of them is even denied a drink of water by other Hindus who are drawing water from the same well. There are some Brahmin men dressed prominently in attire typical of pujaris complete with a janeau. These janeau flashing Brahmins are part of the crowd denying water, and argue against giving the thirsty Dalit water. The ‘reformist’ hero opposes them by saying “This is Swatantra Bharatam (free India), not your Rig Veda time.”

The reference to Rig Veda is where the Hindumisia shines. Rig Veda is not a time period, and The Vedas are sacred to Hindus. The film takes a stab at Hinduism by attributing the evil of untouchability to The Vedas, which have content added by non-Brahmins! Not just The Vedas, but both of the Hindu sacred epics – The Ramayana, and The Mahabharata, were written by non-Brahmins, with Veda Vyasa, the writer of Mahabharata being the son of a fisherwoman (traditionally a Dalit). In Ramayana the hero Sri Ram is a Kshatriya and the villain Ravana is the son of a Brahmin! To attribute untouchability to the Rig Veda is utter malice.

I dare the filmmakers to refer in so derogatory a term a religious text of any other religion! They will have proverbial hell to pay! But most Hindus have internalized colonialism and the colonial trope of the evil Brahmin so much, that the film-makers felt confident to make a big budget film and market it to audiences worldwide.

Moving on, the hero’s ‘backward’ brothers are shown wearing Bharatiya outfits, with Hindu symbols. Whereas ‘reformist’ atheist hero is entirely in western wear, twirling moustache, and chain-smoking. Subliminally, people wearing Hindu attire/symbols are shown as bad and those in Western attires and smoking are shown as good.

The hero wants to leave home because of how ‘backward’ his brothers are, but accidentally visits a local temple during Navaratri time, and gets entranced by one of the dancers in a temple dance performance. The dancers are referred to by his friend as “Devadasis from Bangladesh” who reside in the temple. Let’s set aside the fact that the time period is 1969, and Bangladesh as a nation didn’t come into existence until 1971.

The film shows Devadasis as residing within a temple and never leaving the temple compound. This is a factual error. Such confinement within walls maybe true of nuns in Christian convents but Devadasis as temple dancers had free movement. Even in the times of the 5^th century Sanskit Drama  Mrchchakatika, Devadasis lived freely and went everywhere. They were temple dancers and artists who used dance as a form of worship and while they couldn’t marry, they could choose partners to cohabit with.

Devadasis lived in a colony close to the temple – never within temple walls. The cleanliness rules of a temple did not allow anyone – including pujaris who worshipped the Devatas - to constantly reside within temple premises.

The janeau-sporting brahmin temple pujari (Mahant) is shown as sexually abusing the Devadasis trapped within the temple. This pujari supposedly had so much power that with one sign from him, the head Devadasi made all Devadasis line up, so that he could choose one for the night. He would point to the woman of his choice, and his attendant would hold her hand and take her to the head Devadasi who would then get this woman dressed up and ready for the night. At one point this all-powerful Mahant chooses a young 8-year-old, which makes him a despicable pedophile! When the heroine stops him from approaching the 8-year-old, the Mahant and his fellow pujaris beat her up thoroughly. At the end of the beating when the heroine is battered and bruised the evil Mahant carefully places his janeau over one ear, and urinates on her. A crass, vulgar humiliation!

Before examining this scene further, let me state that this article is not meant to cover the scope of the Devadasi system, what it was when temples flourished under ancient Hindu kings, and what it became when the kings themselves became vassals to the British who taxed the vassals heavily leaving Devadasis in a much worse fate, with some of them becoming sex workers. I also want to state here that this article does not excuse sexual slavery or rape of any kind by anyone. Violence especially on the unarmed and powerless, is despicable.

That said, let us examine the scene again. The captive situation of the Devadasis and the portrayal of not just the Mahant as a rapist pedophile but also his fellow pujaris as enablers of rape – is unadulterated Hindumisia. The implicit message is that temples are dens of vice, with women held captive and subjected to abuse by well-built well-fed ruffian pujaris! A far cry from the peaceful temples that Hindus hold as holy places to worship and meditate, with humble pujaris who offer prayers and go home to their families; pujaris who eke out a living, who are depicted historically as “daridra Brahman” (brahmin living in poverty) who depended on alms from others, and in the case of learned brahmins, patronage from kings and rich landlords.

The derogatory reference to Rig Veda, portraying Brahmins as denying water to Dalits, as predators and pedophiles, all the while flashing janeaus, shows high level of investment from Hinduphobic forces using their money power to demonize Hindu Dharma.

Subsequent to this scene, the hero enters the temple premises, takes the heroine away to safety, and returns on Vijaya Dasami Day on his motorcycle, to drag the evil Mahant away from his Puja of Maa Kali. He beats up the Mahant, and during the fight, it is shown that the Mahant is able to lift the hero with just one hand! Since when were temple pujaris body-builders? Most of them are not even physically fit! They cannot afford that kind of food or rigorous training in martial arts. Not just the Mahant but the fellow pujaris also fight the hero – not ONE speaks up against the rapist evil man, or rebels against him.

The hero, when beating up the predatory Mahant, walks up to the murti of Maa Kali, places one slipper-clad foot on the Mahishasura at her feet, and grabs a knife from Her hand to use as a weapon against the Mahant. Note the casual disrespect of Maa Kali, with the slipper clad foot placed on the murti.

With the knife from Devi Maa in hand, the hero castrates the Mahant, and throws him over the Homa Kunda and leaves him to burn. Then he rides his motorcycle through the entire area where the Vijaya Dasami puja was performed, desecrating the whole space. I am no psychologist – but castrating the Mahant and desecrating the Homa Kunda seems to send a subliminal message to destroy Hinduism as a whole – the religion, the rites and the demonized pujari. Trained psychologists will be able to interpret this scene better.

The Hindumisia does not end here. The hero after rescuing the heroine from her captive life, renames her ‘Rosie’ – ostensibly because she looks good with roses in her hair and is reminiscent of a rose that blooms among thorns. He says the Indian word for rose (Roja) but calls her Rosie anyway – a subtle bow to Christianity, with a message that while the Hindu Maitreyi was captive, the woman sporting a Christian name of Rosie is free, loved and happy.

The heroine, ‘rechristened’ Rosie, says that she was knowing love for the first time – she never knew her parents, who sold her to a temple “in exchange for a ricebag”. That is a clever turnaround to hit at Hindus who use this slur for Christians who converted for money. This removes any doubt that the film is very well-funded and/or sympathetic to Missionary forces who want to harvest more souls. They have not just turned around the “rice bag” phrase, but also projected the Franco Mulakkal case with captive nuns and predatory priests (and an establishment that has numerous pedophile priest scandals), on Hindus!

The hero subsequently proposes marriage to the heroine but she hesitates, being a Devadasi and already married to the deity. The hero counters that she is married to a stone and any God who expects someone to be a slave is not a real God. Note the casual reference to “idolatory” and “false Gods”, which is used by Abrahamic faiths, and the conflation of the word Dasi (one who serves) to a slave! He mentions how Smt. M.S. Subbulakshmi, who was a Devadasi, came out, married and became a famous musician (conveniently omitting that Sri Sadasivam, Smt Subbulakshmi’s husband who encouraged her musical accomplishments, is a Brahmin). The heroine then agrees to his proposal.

Subsequent to his very Hindu wedding complete with mangalsutra and sindoor, the heroine mentions to him that while he has saved one Rosie, there are thousands of Devadasis trapped in thousands of temples that need rescuing. Again, the film perpetrates the myth of temples being dens of vice with women trapped within. The hero is then shown as writing articles about “God’s Prostitutes” (what’s another Hindumisic reference, when the director is on a roll, right?) and bringing about reform of Devadasis. The story now takes a tragic turn with the hero’s Hindu-outfit-sporting casteist brothers taking him away from his wife on a pretext of one of the brothers being ill, and then murdering the hero when he refuses to marry a woman of their caste and their choice. The very brothers who raised him, who wear prominent Hindu symbols and tilak, now commit fratricide! So essentially, caste triumphs over love, and the good westernized hero is a victim of fratricide.

The way they have crafted a gripping reincarnation story, woven their Brahmin hatred and Hindumisia overtly and subtly, invested in A-list stars to create a blockbuster-type of film, shows a carefully thought out and planned strategy to demonize Hindus and Hindu Dharma.

I have never seen this kind of hatred in Telugu films. Amazing that they got two Hindus – Nani and Sai Pallavi to play the leads. And even more amazing that many Hindus, ignorant of their own heritage, laud the film as one that brings a message of social change.

Author’s footnote: This article is an expansion of my Twitter thread here. In the thread I had referred to Hinduphobia but in retrospect, the term Hindumisia is more appropriate in the film’s context.

Image source: Times of India