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.

Iran’s Expanding Arc

Mar 23
3 min read

The Islamic Republic’s failed strike on Diego Garcia suggests that even the most secure outposts are no longer beyond reach.

For decades, distance was Diego Garcia’s greatest defence. Marooned in the central Indian Ocean, far from the Middle East’s turmoil and the Pacific’s rivalries, the atoll functioned as America’s unsinkable aircraft carrier.


Iran’s recent attempt to strike the island with ballistic missiles, though unsuccessful has punctured the illusion of sanctuary. One missile reportedly failed mid-flight; another was intercepted by an SM-3 system launched from a US Navy warship. For the first time, Tehran has signalled a willingness, and perhaps an ability, to target assets far beyond its immediate neighbourhood. Geography, long a constraint on Iran’s reach, may be becoming less so.


Diego Garcia is no ordinary base. Alongside Andersen Air Force Base, it underpins America’s long-range strike capability across the Indo-Pacific. Its 12,000-foot runway hosts B-1, B-2 and B-52 bombers; its harbour accommodates aircraft carriers and pre-positioned ships stocked with equipment for an entire Marine brigade. The island also supports nuclear submarines and critical space-tracking infrastructure. From the Gulf War to the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, it has served as a discreet but indispensable launchpad of American power.


Positioned roughly equidistant from the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait and the Strait of Malacca, Diego Garcia allows long-range bombers to cover two of the world’s most vital maritime arteries. This centrality was no accident. In the decades after the second world war, as decolonisation threatened America’s access to overseas bases, naval planners feared being shut out of the Indian Ocean in a crisis. British-controlled Diego Garcia offered a solution. It was expanded into a fortress of logistics and reach, designed to operate even when other routes were denied.


Iran’s choice of target, then, was deliberate. It was not merely aiming at a military installation but at a symbol of American power projection. Until recently, Tehran had appeared content to limit its missile arsenal to a range of about 2,000 km, sufficient to deter regional adversaries. The attempted strike tells a different story. It suggests the existence or at least the testing of intermediate-range ballistic missiles (IRBMs), capable of travelling 3,000-5,500 km.


The launches came shortly after Keir Starmer authorised American use of Diego Garcia to strike Iranian missile sites as part of Operation Epic Fury. Tehran framed its response as self-defence.


Whether that signal reflects a reliable capability remains uncertain. Developing IRBMs is one thing; deploying them with consistent accuracy is another. Guidance systems, re-entry vehicles and targeting intelligence all matter as much as raw range. Iran’s space programme has long been cited by Western analysts as a pathway to longer-range missiles, even intercontinental ones. But a failed strike does not confer credibility. Deterrence depends on reliability, not experimentation.


Yet perception has a logic of its own. Even an unsuccessful attempt can alter strategic calculations. For American planners, and for countries hosting American assets, the notion of distance as a guarantor of safety looks increasingly tenuous. Missile defences may need to be strengthened; assets may need to be dispersed. The costs of maintaining forward presence, already high, could rise further.


The implications extend beyond the United States. Diego Garcia sits at the heart of the Indian Ocean, a region of growing strategic competition. If Iran can plausibly threaten targets at such distance, other powers will take note - not least China, whose own missile capabilities far exceed Tehran’s. The erosion of geographic buffers could accelerate an arms race in both offensive and defensive systems, further militarising a region through which much of global trade flows.


There is, too, a political dimension. The island’s status has long been contested. In 2019 the International Court of Justice ruled that Britain’s separation of the Chagos Archipelago from Mauritius was unlawful. A subsequent agreement in 2025 transferred sovereignty to Mauritius while leasing the base back to Britain for 99 years, preserving its use by the United States. The arrangement resolved little of the moral controversy, particularly the displacement of the Chagossian population decades earlier. Now, as the base’s strategic exposure grows, so too may scrutiny of its political foundations.


In the end, Iran’s failed strike may matter less for what it achieved than for what it implied. Diego Garcia was built on the premise that distance could guarantee security. That premise is eroding. In an age of proliferating missile technologies, even the most remote outposts are no longer beyond reach, and the map of deterrence is being quietly redrawn. 


Comments


bottom of page