Haq: When a Film About Muslim Women Speaks to All Women

For the most part, Haq is not a story only about Muslim women. It is a story about women in general. Almost all of us know someone, married or unmarried, who has been cheated in love. We have seen that heartbreak up close, and we understand the emotional toll it takes.

When Shazia feels betrayed, we feel it too. When she wants the best for her children, that emotion feels familiar. When she fights for her rights, it resonates deeply. And when her father stands by her without hesitation, it reminds us of our own fathers and the quiet strength that support brings. These are emotions that are universal to women, cutting across religion, culture, and background.

The narrative becomes specifically about Muslim women only when the legal issues come into focus. That is where the real differences emerge, and the film clearly highlights how laws and systems can shape a woman’s fight for justice. It is to be noted that soon after the Triple Talaq ban was implemented in India, many Muslim women began approaching the courts to seek justice. While there was no open praise for the current government for such a ban, there was a quiet acceptance of the relief and protection the law offered them in real life. Many Muslim men, however, continue to view the ban as an insult to their faith rather than as a legal safeguard for women.

Getting back to the movie, Yami’s final monologue is powerful and leaves a strong impact. Emraan feels completely natural throughout and never once seems like he is performing. Sheeba Chaddha is equally convincing and brings depth to her role.

I especially want to credit Emraan for choosing to act in a film that openly talks about Muslim women’s rights. It takes conviction to support a story like this, especially as a Muslim, without dismissing it as Islamophobic. The film is clearly not that. Instead, it focuses on real issues and lived experiences, and his decision to back the narrative adds credibility and strength to the message being told.

Overall, I liked the film. The background music could have been better, and Yami is not fully convincing in a few scenes. Still, she more than makes up for it in the final act, which stays with you long after the film ends.

Haq is now streaming on Netflix.

An Ode to Feminichi Fathima

Feminichi Fathima is a Malayalam movie I had been waiting to watch for a long time. The film received strong appreciation at several film festivals. Many critics also spoke highly of it in their reviews. Now that it has finally released on OTT, the wait feels worth it. After watching the film, I can say it truly lives up to the praise it received.

The movie is a bold and thoughtful effort by director Fasil Muhammed to explore feminism from the perspective of a Muslim woman. This is a refreshing shift in Indian cinema, where feminist narratives are often shown through a cultural Hindu lens. Films like The Great Indian Kitchen (Mrs. in Hindi) and Thappad shaped much of that earlier conversation. Against that backdrop, this film feels timely and necessary. It adds a new voice to discussions on gender, faith, and everyday patriarchy.

What’s It About?

Fathima is married into a conservative and deeply religious family in the Malappuram district in Kerala. Her husband is a usthad (a religious leader) who expects his household to follow every rule without question. Life in the home is seen only through a strict, conservative lens.

Trouble begins when their young son wets the mattress. Fathima cleans it and leaves it outside to dry, but a dog later urinates on it. Since dogs are viewed as ritually impure, her husband reacts with anger and disgust. What follows is Fathima’s quiet struggle to fix the situation, facing resistance at every step.

The film makes a strong point that a woman in religious clothing can also be a feminichi (a slur often used by Malayalee misogynists to dismiss feminists).

Thoughts

Shamla Hamza and Kumar Sunil deliver standout performances. Shamla Hamza, in particular, is remarkable throughout the movie. It is hard to believe this is only her second project, after 1001 Nunakal, released in 2022. She performs with the ease and control of a seasoned actor. Her expressions carry much of the film’s emotional weight. Shamla winning the Kerala State Film Award for Best Actress feels well deserved. The storyline is fresh and quietly rebellious, which makes her performance even more powerful.

In many ways, the film feels braver than other feminist movies. Dissent is rarely encouraged in conservative Muslim families, which makes this narrative more powerful. The story shows how questioning norms itself becomes an act of courage. That is what sets this Malayalam feminist film apart. It opens space for conversations that are often silenced. Ideally, it will inspire more Feminichi Fathimas to speak up and stand for their rights.

Even though the subject is heavy, the movie never becomes overwhelming. It avoids melodrama and keeps emotions grounded. Light comedy is woven into the narrative. This balance makes the film feel surprisingly breezy. The pacing is tight and engaging throughout. You can easily watch the full 1.5 hours in one sitting without needing a break.

I would call this movie a must-watch for anyone interested in meaningful Malayalam cinema. Feminichi Fathima is now streaming on Manorama Max. You can also watch it via Amazon Prime with a Manorama Max subscription. English subtitles are available.

Movie Spotlight: Paradha

I actually wanted to watch Paradha in the theatre, because I thought the cast was interesting. It had my lovely curly-haired favourites: Anupama Parameshwaran and Darshana Rajendran, who are known faces in the South. But then I got caught up with other priorities and missed booking a ticket that weekend. Later, I came across some reviews that made me second-guess whether it was worth watching on the big screen and decided to skip going to the theatre. Recently, when it was released on Amazon Prime, I finally decided to watch it.

The movie made me realize that not every review online is meant for you. Reviews often reflect the reviewer’s personal taste, but we tend to assume we’ll feel the same way. I’ve had similar experiences with other films, too, where the reviews were harsh, yet I ended up enjoying them. I still don’t get the importance of movie reviews, because whether we like a movie or not is subjective. But here I am, giving my own movie reviews from a highly subjective viewpoint. I think we should treat reviews as such: personal opinions of someone who loves watching movies, and not the absolute truth.

What’s It About?

Paradha, true to its name, centers on Subbu (Anupama Parameshwaran), a young Hindu woman from a remote Indian village where the tradition of paradha (dupatta veiling) is strictly practiced. While this custom is largely cultural in many parts of India, the film presents it as a religious mandate. The villagers worship Goddess Jwalamma, who they believe commanded that women remain hidden behind a veil. From puberty onward, every girl is forced to follow this rule, with severe consequences for defiance. Subbu, however, finds herself caught in a controversy that threatens her marriage to the man she loves.

Thoughts

Though the story begins with a devout woman who strictly follows religious practices, Paradha is not just about her. It portrays women from different walks of life, each facing gender discrimination in unique ways.

The first woman is deeply religious, bound by the strict purdah or dupatta system. The second, married outside the village, has left purdah behind but remains traditional in other aspects. The third rejects religious traditions altogether, embraces modern values, and focuses on her career. The fourth is a policewoman who’s happily married, enjoying full freedom, and choosing to follow certain traditions out of personal preference rather than compulsion. The movie keeps the narrative balanced this way.

Paradha is a feminist film centered on women’s empowerment, and it may not appeal to everyone. It highlights how women, even the most progressive, continue to face discrimination, no matter how far they try to escape from it.

I really enjoyed the movie. The climax was chilling, and the performances, especially by Anupama Parameshwaran, Darshana Rajendran, and Sangeetha, were superb. It’s a brave film, because criticizing patriarchy is never easy. Often, women themselves defend restrictive practices by saying, “It’s our choice.” But true choice exists only when opting out doesn’t bring harsh criticism or punishment. Many women follow norms not out of freedom, but because they have no other option. The movie captures this truth powerfully.

Paradha is now streaming on Amazon Prime. I watched it in the original Telugu with English subtitles.

Book Review: “A House Without Windows” by Nadia Hashimi

Afghan women walking in front of a blue building image

I just finished A House Without Windows by Afghan-American writer Nadia Hashimi. These days, I gravitate more toward non-fiction and find it more engaging. Still, I’m not ready to give up fiction entirely. A House Without Windows was my fiction pick of the month.

What’s It About?

The story begins with a murder in an Afghan home. A woman, Zeba, is accused of killing her husband and is detained, with almost no chance of survival under Afghanistan’s strict laws for women in such cases. An Afghan-American lawyer, Yusuf, arrives in the country to connect with his roots, stumbles upon her case, and decides to defend her.

Thoughts

I really enjoyed the storyline, though I found the narration slow and somewhat predictable. What stood out most was how Nadia Hashimi portrayed the Afghan-American lawyer’s struggle to balance two cultures in America. This is a story familiar to many migrants. They want to embrace the new, yet can’t fully let go of their roots.

When Yusuf starts dating, everything boils down to one question: Will she bond well with my mother? That’s such a desi trait: wanting your partner to get along with your parents, and if there’s friction, it’s often the partner who pays the price. I also liked the part where he decides to travel to Afghanistan to reconnect with his roots, eventually making peace with the country’s imperfections, because where there’s love, hate doesn’t stand a chance.

The storyline is unique, with a blend of mystique, magic, and sacrifice. I wouldn’t say I strongly recommend the book, as I personally found it slow. However, what’s slow for me might be perfectly paced for someone else.

Ending this post with some quotable quotes from the book:

Alone and free of angst and sorrow
I’ve bled enough for today and tomorrow
Now it is time for my bud to bloom
I’m a sparrow in love with solitude
All my secrets contained within me
I sing aloud—I’m alone, finally!

SHE DID NOT REGRET THE CHILDREN, BUT AT TIMES SHE DID resent them. All mothers did, didn’t they? How could they not bear a little resentment toward people who took took took all the time? How could she be expected to feed them all? Where was Kamal when they were sick or tired or unreasonable?

Medicine is what this man calls his liquor
Strange is the remedy that only makes him sicker.

“And women?” she asked thoughtfully. “What is the world to us?”
Gulnaz offered a meek smile. “Do you not know, my daughter? Our world is the spaces between the rocks and meat. We see the face that should but doesn’t smile, the sliver of sun between dead tree branches. Time passes differently through a woman’s body. We are haunted by all the hours of yesterday and teased by a few moments of tomorrow. That is how we live—torn between what has already happened and what is yet to come.”

People only say nice things about the dead, so you never know what the truth is. You can be a brute in life, but the moment you die, all is forgiven. It used to make me mad, but now that I’m old and know what people say about me, I’m glad for it.

Men were always so frightened by their mortality that they obsessed over ways to live forever: sons to carry on their work, grandsons to carry on their name, their legacies in books, on streets, or in newspapers. Some became more desperate as their black hairs turned silver.

***

Photo by Wasim Mirzaie

Netflix Drama Spotlight: Sirens

Although Sirens is presented as an American dark comedy, I didn’t find anything particularly funny in it. I’m a new fan of Meghann Fahy, so she was the main reason I chose to watch this series. I wasn’t disappointed.

What’s It About?

Sirens centers on three women, each unique in their own way, yet a common factor connects them all. This factor becomes more apparent as the story progresses. You may love or hate the characters, but our inherent nature compels us to judge them for who they are. It forms a subtle yet significant crux of the story.

Thoughts

Sirens was as gripping as I want a drama to be. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I am drawn to series with well-defined female characters, and this was no exception. Though Meghann Fahy is now being typecast in a specific type of role, she does full justice to it. Julianne Moore is breathtaking; no one else could have played the part of the beautiful yet intimidating persona. Milly Alcock as Simone is brilliant and likely has the most substantial role of the three, as she gets to reveal many layers of her character.

What struck me the most about the series is that no female character is entirely black or white. They are layers of gray, doing their best to survive in a world that has not been kind to them. The final scene might make you uncomfortable, but it represents the very essence of life, where nothing is predictable. You do what you have to do to confront your demons. This may seem selfish, but it is also essential for survival.

Sirens is a feminist movie at its core, and its profound messaging about how women are often blamed is woven in subtly without overt activism. You notice it and feel uncomfortable, but you never get the impression that the message is being forced upon you. This is the kind of messaging that is most effective – one that isn’t obvious but still makes a lasting impact. Human nature is such that we don’t listen when we are shouted or screamed at; we listen when we are subtly guided to notice discriminatory issues on our own.

Sirens is streaming on Netflix. The series has 5 episodes, with each episode lasting roughly an hour.

Why Indian Parents Should Watch Adolescence

The Netflix series Adolescence is a wake-up call. It shook me to the core and shed light on the stark realities the new generation faces.

I grew up in a time when online influence was non-existent, and our worldview was shaped by the people around us. Today, that has changed. Algorithms dictate perspectives, feeding you opinions from across the world. Knowledge is no longer derived from just parents, teachers, or elders. This is a positive thing, but it has also resulted in an information overload.

There are several social media accounts trying to dump different perspectives on you. For every argument supporting point A, there’s another endorsing point B. Ultimately, it depends on which perspective you resonate with the most. Once you decide, the algorithm ensures you see more of it, reinforcing your beliefs. Sometimes, without you even realizing it. This can be dangerous. What if a child interacts with harmful content? The algorithm ensures they see more of it, shaping their beliefs in a troubling direction. We risk raising a generation programmed by these echo chambers. It’s a challenge we can’t ignore.

**Spoilers Ahead**

Every plus comes with a downside. Today, we have information at our fingertips, but this convenience comes at a cost. This is a reality that Adolescent portrays with unsettling accuracy. Jamie retreats to his room as soon as he gets home, immersing himself in his online world. His parents remain unaware of what he consumes, assuming, like many modern parents, that giving him complete freedom is the right approach. However, this unchecked digital exposure can shape young minds in ways they don’t anticipate, often with troubling consequences. It’s a new-age problem.

The series also introduced me to terms like Manosphere, Red Pill, and the 80-20 rule, making me realize how rapidly digital ideologies evolve. Figures like Andrew Tate are shaping young men’s perceptions of masculinity, often promoting the idea that being “alpha” means suppressing emotions. He preaches that men are providers and should be respected without being “given a headache.” This mindset isn’t foreign to India. I’ve noticed how men in my household particularly often express fewer emotions. When I was hospitalized recently, only the women in my family directly checked on me, while the men relied on them for updates. The burden of emotions lies on the women, whereas men are expected to be mere providers. Ironically, when men fall ill, women are expected to inquire directly. This emotional divide is ingrained in my household. I am unsure of other households. However, male-to-male interactions may differ. A “bro” might feel more comfortable checking in on a fellow “bro”.

I believe Adolescence should be screened in Indian classrooms with regional language dubbing. Andrew Tate-inspired accounts are emerging in India, pushing narratives that degrade women. If we don’t educate our youth about the dangers of such ideologies, we risk fostering a generation of men who lack empathy for women’s concerns, some of whom may even resort to violence to assert their views. The time to act is now.

The social message aside, this was Owen’s debut performance, yet he delivered with astonishing depth. It made me wonder how much the Indian film industry could thrive if it prioritized raw talent over nepotism, giving opportunities to newcomers who truly have the skill.

One of the most unsettling moments for me was Jamie’s chilling question to Briony with a steely, mocking gaze: “Are you afraid of a 13-year-old?” Owen Cooper’s portrayal was so disturbingly real that it made even a viewer like me uncomfortable. That’s the power of natural acting. His transformation, from an innocent boy insisting he has done nothing wrong, to someone consumed by uncontrollable rage, is nothing short of remarkable. It’s a performance that leaves a lasting impact.