top of page

By:

Kiran D. Tare

21 August 2024 at 4:53:13 pm

From Doctor to Box-Office Disruptor

Vishal Chaturvedi has turned a deeply personal spiritual story into one of 2026’s biggest box-office surprises. In an industry where films routinely arrive with star salaries running into crores, lavish sets and multi-crore marketing campaigns, Hanuman Ansh is a striking anomaly. Made on a shoestring budget reportedly in the region of Rs. 2 crore, the ‘spiritual’ film opened last month to a modest box-office collection. Within weeks, however, audiences began taking a shine to the film with...

From Doctor to Box-Office Disruptor

Vishal Chaturvedi has turned a deeply personal spiritual story into one of 2026’s biggest box-office surprises. In an industry where films routinely arrive with star salaries running into crores, lavish sets and multi-crore marketing campaigns, Hanuman Ansh is a striking anomaly. Made on a shoestring budget reportedly in the region of Rs. 2 crore, the ‘spiritual’ film opened last month to a modest box-office collection. Within weeks, however, audiences began taking a shine to the film with the phenomenal result that its domestic collections had surged past the Rs. 150 crore mark. Whatever the final tally, the fact that a film made for a fraction of the budgets of mainstream Bollywood productions has emerged as a major commercial success has raised eyebrows. The man responsible for this is Vishal Chaturvedi, a doctor-turned-filmmaker, writer and producer whose route to cinema has been anything but conventional. Chaturvedi was born and brought up in Lucknow and completed his MBBS from Gorakhpur in 2006. While posted in Haldwani that year, he visited Kainchi Dham. It was there that he encountered the teachings of Neem Karoli Baba, the spiritual figure whose life and philosophy would eventually become the foundation of his first feature film. For almost two decades, the thought of making a film around Neem Karoli Baba remained with Chaturvedi. His journey towards Hanuman Ansh itself reportedly took nearly 14 years. Along the way, he left medicine and even gave up music before committing himself fully to filmmaking. What might appear in retrospect as an overnight success was therefore anything but overnight. Hanuman Ansh tells the story of Lakshminarayan, who would later become Neem Karoli Baba. Following his mother’s death, the young Lakshman leaves home in search of God. His journey through forests, temples and villages becomes a gradual renunciation of worldly life and a movement towards spirituality. The film also incorporates episodes associated with Neem Karoli Baba, including the famous account of a British train being stopped after he was forced off it. But perhaps the most revealing part of Chaturvedi’s story is not what he put into the film, but what he deliberately kept out while writing it. He removed digital devices from his room and wrote the story entirely by hand. His assistants subsequently photographed the handwritten pages and converted them into digital form. He spent nearly 45 days writing the first scene alone. For Chaturvedi, however, the first scene was the foundation of the entire film. Once he had found it, the rest of the screenplay came together rapidly, taking another 15 to 20 days. Hanuman Ansh was the culmination of a personal conviction that had survived for nearly 20 years. Its success also raises a larger question about the changing economics of Indian cinema. The film is unlikely to signal the death of stars, spectacle or big budgets. Nor does every low-budget film with a strong idea automatically become a blockbuster. But Hanuman Ansh, alongside other recent successes such as Dhurandhar, points towards something increasingly important: content can create its own market when audiences feel they have discovered something worth talking about. The old model depended heavily on pre-release visibility. The new one increasingly depends on post-release conversation. A film need not necessarily dominate advertising if audiences themselves become its marketing department. That is particularly significant for films operating outside the traditional Bollywood template. Hanuman Ansh does not have the conventional ingredients of a commercial blockbuster. Its subject is spiritual, its central character is not a contemporary superstar and its budget was tiny by industry standards. Yet its audience appears to have expanded precisely because it offered something different. Today, audiences are becoming less willing to accept that the size of a film’s budget determines its value. They can reject an expensive production and embrace a modest one if the latter connects emotionally, culturally or spiritually. For Chaturvedi, the irony is striking. A man who walked away from medicine to pursue filmmaking spent years chasing a story that the mainstream industry apparently did not rush to embrace. That makes Hanuman Ansh’s success more than a box-office curiosity. It is a reminder that while budgets and big-name stars may buy scale and draw attention, the belief among audiences that a particular film is telling a solid story and hence must be seen is priceless. Chaturvedi appears to have spent years building his belief around one story. Judging by the box office receipts, the audience, too, seems to have bought into it.

Bappa Under Scrutiny

3 hours ago
3 min read

As Ganeshotsav confronts concerns over idol height, noise and food safety, Maharashtra must find a balance between devotion and responsible celebration.

Ganpati is perhaps Maharashtra’s most iconic festival, occupying a unique place in the state’s social and cultural life. For ten days, the state becomes more spiritual, more musical and, appetite-wise, more generous. But this year, three words are likely to define Ganeshotsav as much as devotion itself: height, noise and prasad.


On August 22, tragedy struck Bhuleshwar in South Mumbai when a 22-foot Ganesh idol collapsed during its arrival procession, killing two people and injuring five, including children. The accident immediately renewed attention on the growing race among public mandals to build ever-taller idols. For devotees, it was a disturbing beginning to the festival.


There is no general government-prescribed maximum height for Ganesh idols in Mumbai, but their scale has steadily increased. One mandal’s idol, for instance, reportedly grew from about 22 feet in 2022 to 36 feet last year. Organisers themselves acknowledge that competition between mandals is one reason. Height is no longer merely artistic expression; it has become part of spectacle, identity and, sometimes, prestige.


The issue is also one of safety and immersion. The Bombay High Court has clarified that its earlier six-feet immersion rule remains applicable this year. Idols up to six feet, including those made of Plaster of Paris, are to be immersed in artificial water bodies, while taller idols can be immersed in natural water bodies subject to applicable directions. The question, therefore, is no longer simply how high Bappa can be made, but how safely and responsibly Bappa can be brought, displayed and immersed.


Then comes the more politically explosive issue of noise. The debate over DJs and high-decibel sound systems, which gathered momentum during Dahi Handi celebrations, has become one of the defining controversies of this year’s Ganeshotsav. In Pune, activist Vidyanand Bapat became the unexpected face of the anti-noise campaign. His Marathi-language videos and media interactions went viral, while his demand for restrictions on DJs and loud sound systems put him at the centre of a wider debate.


Bapat argued that excessive sound affects senior citizens, patients and others vulnerable to noise pollution. He was subsequently assaulted while speaking to the media, turning what began as a civic issue into a political and social controversy. His argument was that celebrations should continue without excessive noise becoming their defining feature.


More than 1,000 citizens later joined a Pune protest demanding action against loud DJs and sound systems. The city police imposed restrictions on high-decibel DJs, Dolby and other high-intensity sound systems, including laser-related equipment, from September 3 to November 1. The police have clarified that this is not a blanket ban on traditional instruments or legally permissible sound levels.


Yet the controversy has exposed divisions within the BJP itself. Former mayor and former MLC Sandip Joshi has supported restrictions on DJs and laser lights, while Central Nagpur MLA Pravin Datke has questioned why such curbs should disproportionately affect Hindu festivals. BJP city president Dayashankar Tiwari has opposed a blanket ban and favoured regulation rather than prohibition.


The third word is prasad. Distributing prasad and organising bhandaras has long been among the most generous traditions of Ganeshotsav: feed the devotee, feed the stranger and share what you have. But with thousands of people being served, food safety inevitably becomes a public-health concern.


The Maharashtra Food and Drug Administration has tightened checks for Mumbai’s public Ganesh mandals. Those organising mahaprasad, annadaan or bhandaras are expected to submit details in advance, maintain ingredient records and source raw materials from authorised food businesses. Milk and milk products, sweets, edible oils, colours, dry fruits, besan, water and ice may come under scrutiny. Around 12,000 public Ganesh mandals in Mumbai are expected to fall under the framework, with enforcement beginning 21 days before the festival.


At first glance, this may sound like another bureaucratic intervention in a traditionally community-driven festival. But food safety is difficult to argue against. When thousands are served at a single mandal, hygiene, storage, water quality, ingredients and food handling become matters of public health rather than merely religious practice.


Ganpati Bappa Morya has never really been about how tall the idol is, how powerful the speaker is or how elaborate the feast is. It has always been about faith, community and participation. Perhaps this year, Maharashtra is being forced to rediscover exactly that.


(The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)

Comments


bottom of page