Accused (Netflix): A Promising Queer Romance That Loses Steam

Konkona Sen Sharma and Pratibha Ranta in Accused Image

I knew I would be watching Accused on Netflix the moment I saw the lead pair: Konkona Sen Sharma and Pratibha Ranta. I have always liked both actors, so that alone was reason enough to hit the play button. But what really caught my attention was the theme of queer romance. In Indian cinema, stories about same-sex relationships are still relatively rare, which makes films like this especially interesting.

Over the past few years, India has slowly begun opening up to conversations about LGBTQ+ relationships. What once felt shocking to mainstream audiences is gradually becoming part of everyday discussion. That change did not happen overnight. It is the result of efforts from many sides: legal changes like the decriminalization of homosexuality in India, activists who have spent years spreading awareness, and filmmakers who are willing to tell stories about queer love on screen. Because of that collective push, movies exploring same-sex romance are finding space in Indian cinema.

I still remember when the Malayalam movie Kaathal: The Core was released. It remains one of the Malayalam films I feel proud of. I saw its impact firsthand at a family event we attended around that time. Some of my elderly relatives actually began discussing the theme of the film. It was clear they were still a bit uncomfortable talking about homosexuality, but the conversation itself was a big step. What surprised me most was that a few of them were able to acknowledge that homosexuality is real and not something a person can simply control or change. And the reason they were willing to even consider that perspective was simple: Mammootty was part of the film. Seeing an actor from their own generation portray such a character helped normalize the topic for them.

That moment reminded me of the real impact cinema can have. Movies are not just entertainment. Sometimes, they quietly open the door to conversations that people would otherwise avoid.

Getting back to the movie in question, Accused begins on a fast-paced note. The opening pulls you in immediately, and there is enough intrigue to keep you watching as the story unfolds. For a while, the film manages to hold that tension well. Unfortunately, the narrative loses some of its strength towards the end, and the impact is not quite as powerful as the beginning promised.

That said, the performances are a big highlight. Konkona Sen Sharma and Pratibha Ranta are both wonderful to watch. Pratibha, in particular, looked great throughout the film. I even found myself noticing her earrings more than once. She has mostly been seen in village girl roles so far, so it was refreshing to see her play a modern, city girl in this Netflix film. I am definitely looking forward to seeing more stories featuring her.

Konkona, as expected, delivers a strong performance. Her character is aggressive, ambitious, and very clear about what she wants. She does not soften her words to make others comfortable, and that confidence makes her come across as a true “boss girl” personality. At the same time, the film also shows how women like her often end up being judged or disliked for the same qualities that would be admired in men.

Overall, Accused starts off as a gripping Netflix drama with an interesting queer romance angle and strong performances. Even though the ending feels a bit underwhelming, the film is still worth watching for its lead actors and the way it brings conversations about same-sex relationships in India to a wider audience.

An Ode to 9 Thought-Provoking Life Quotes from Bonnie Garmus’s Lessons in Chemistry

I recently came to know that there is an Apple TV series based on Bonnie Garmus’s Lessons in Chemistry. Still, like many book lovers who believe the original story is always better than any adaptation, I chose to read the book first. And I am glad I did.

Lessons in Chemistry is warm, quirky, and emotional. It begins at a quick pace and later slows down to let the reader focus on how the characters are feeling. The fictional novel explores women empowerment, career, ambition, love, grief, and self discovery.

The story is about two unconventional scientists who view the world through logic. Their relationship feels unusual to others because their conversations revolve around research, experiments, and what most people would call nerdy banter. But the connection they feel with each other is real. They believe they are soulmates.

The female scientist eventually steps into an unexpected phase of her life and has to leave her career only to soon become the host of a cooking show. The show goes on to gain popularity dude to her unique, scientific approach towards food. She treats every recipe like a science experiment. She explains why each ingredient matters and the chemical composition that affects taste and cooking. This fresh perspective inspires her audience and transforms the way they think about cooking.

If you enjoy fiction that blends romance, feminism, science, and character driven storytelling, Lessons in Chemistry is worth adding to your reading list.

I also want to list some of my favourite thought-provoking quotes from the book. Hope you enjoy them as much as I did.

One thing I’ve learned, Calvin: people will always yearn for a simple solution to their complicated problems.

It’s a lot easier to have faith in something you can’t see, can’t touch, can’t explain, and can’t change, rather than to have faith in something you actually can.

From his own lessons, he knew repetition was important. The key was not to overdo the repetition—not to make it so tiresome that it actually had an inverse result and caused the student to forget. That was called boredom. According to Elizabeth, boredom was what was wrong with education today.

No wonder people didn’t understand animals. They could barely understand each other.

Having a baby, Elizabeth realized, was a little like living with a visitor from a distant planet. There was a certain amount of give and take as the visitor learned your ways and you learned theirs, but gradually their ways faded and your ways stuck. Which she found regrettable. Because unlike adults, her visitor never tired of even the smallest discovery; always saw the magic in the ordinary.

“What I find interesting about rowing,” Dr. Mason was saying, “is that it’s always done backwards. It’s almost as if the sport itself is trying to teach us not to get ahead of ourselves.” He opened his car door. “Actually, when you think about it, rowing is almost exactly like raising kids. Both require patience, endurance, strength, and commitment. And neither allow us to see where we’re going—only where we’ve been. I find that very reassuring, don’t you? Except for the flip-outs—of course. I could really do with fewer flip-outs.”

But as she read, she’d found herself wondering—did the artist ever get distracted? Ink an asp instead of a goat? And if so, did he have to let it stand? Probably. On the other hand, wasn’t that the very definition of life? Constant adaptations brought about by a series of never-ending mistakes?

“I don’t have hopes,” Mad explained, studying the address. “I have faith.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Well, that’s a funny word to hear coming from you.”
“How come?”
“Because,” he said, “well, you know. Religion is based on faith.”
“But you realize,” she said carefully, as if not to embarrass him further, “that faith isn’t based on religion. Right?”

“Whenever you start doubting yourself,” she said, turning back to the audience, “whenever you feel afraid, just remember. Courage is the root of change—and change is what we’re chemically designed to do. So when you wake up tomorrow, make this pledge. No more holding yourself back. No more subscribing to others’ opinions of what you can and cannot achieve. And no more allowing anyone to pigeonhole you into useless categories of sex, race, economic status, and religion. Do not allow your talents to lie dormant, ladies. Design your own future.

When you go home today, ask yourself what you will change. And then get started.”

***

Photo by Ron Lach

Short Film Spotlight: Anuja

I was craving to watch a slice-of-life drama. Something simple, not too heavy or filled with dread. I honestly thought Anuja would be intense, given how the synopsis sounded. Plus, it’s a Hindi short film that was an Academy Award nominee.

Now, why would I mention the Academy Award nomination like it’s a bad thing? I have my reasons.

To be honest, Oscar nominees have rarely worked for me. In Malayalam, we call such films “award padam.” The kind that feels too abstract or complex for ordinary viewers (like yours truly). There was a time in my life, long ago, when I pretended to enjoy such films just to seem intellectual in front of my then-partner. But I couldn’t keep up the act, and that image fell apart the moment that relationship ended. Now, it seems I’m making up for that lost time. All I want to watch are feel-good films.

So when I saw that Anuja was an Oscar nominee, it didn’t excite me enough to hit play right away. It actually made me hesitate. After all, the Oscars have a reputation for picking Indian films that focus on pain and poverty, what many call “poverty porn,” which does not fully represent what India is today.

Still, I decided to give it a chance.

What’s It About?

A 9-year-old girl works with her sister in a garment factory in India. Despite being naturally bright and curious, she doesn’t attend school because of financial struggles. And, truthfully, she doesn’t want to either. Her elder sister, however, recognizes her potential and dreams of giving her the education she deserves.

Thoughts

The film was a pleasant surprise. I loved it. It was just 22 minutes, but packed with emotions.

It tells the story of child labourers. They are presented not as helpless victims, but as resilient children who find joy even in hardship. The truth is, we often see others through our own lens and may view them as “helpless.” But for them, this is simply life. They know no other kind of life, and they’re doing their best with what they have. That’s what the movie captures so beautifully — life as they see it, not as we do.

It’s a social hierarchy. Someone wealthier might be looking at me with pity, thinking I’m suffering. Yet I’m making the most of what I have, because that’s the life I know. We suffer mostly when we lose something we once had, when we can compare the before and after, and we truly miss the before.

I’ve often felt that those not well-off often make the best of what little they have, which is why they find happiness in the smallest things, like a bag of jalebi, for instance. Anuja captures that spirit beautifully: “The present may not be bright, but we can strive for a better tomorrow.”

The film avoids moral preaching or lecturing. It’s simply about two sisters supporting each other in a harsh world.

The most moving part of the film is that Sajda Pathan, who plays Anuja, was once a child labourer in Delhi before being rescued by the Salaam Baalak Trust (SBT). She now lives at the NGO’s Day Care Center, founded in 1988 by filmmaker Mira Nair, who, interestingly, is also the mother of New York’s new Mayor, Zohran Mamdani.

Ananya Shanbhag also delivers an excellent performance as the elder sister, Palak.

I would definitely recommend the short film. Anuja is streaming on Netflix.