I wanted to watch the Real Kashmir Football Club series on Sony Liv the moment the teaser dropped. It felt positive and full of hope. The story promised a future built on progress, peace, and development through football. That feeling stayed with me through the series. I was not disappointed.
Real-Life Inspiration
While most stories about Kashmir focus on pain and instability, this one chooses a different path. It highlights the positive side of the region in a quiet, honest way. The story is not entirely fictional. It is inspired by a real football club in Kashmir, started by a Kashmiri Hindu and a Muslim.
To quote Wikipedia:
Real Kashmir Football Club is an Indian professional football club based in Srinagar, Jammu and Kashmir. Incorporated in 2016, the club currently competes in I-League, the second tier of the Indian football league system. Real Kashmir with its reserve side also participates in the Jammu & Kashmir Premier Football League regionally.
Nicknamed “Sheeni Seh” (transl. Snow Leopards), Real Kashmir is the first club from Jammu and Kashmir to earn promotion in any top flight football league of the country. They also won the IFA Shield title in 2022. Club’s futsal section has been competing in the state league, as well as AIFF Futsal Club Championship, the highest division in the country.
The origin of Real Kashmir FC date to 2014 after devastating floods swept through the region causing massive loss of life and property. To keep the youth, who had lost much during the floods—engaged, Shamim Meraj, editor of a local newspaper named “Kashmir Monitor”, and Sandeep Chattoo, a local businessman, came together to arrange footballers.
What began as a community outreach programme garnered support from the local populace and it soon started evolving into something more. Real Kashmir FC as a club, formalised in 2016, and affiliated with Jammu & Kashmir Football Association (JKFA) under the tireless efforts by Chattoo. Founded in 2016, Real Kashmir FC emerged as the first ever top flight professional football club in Jammu and Kashmir.
Back to the Series…
The goal of the series is simple and meaningful. It is all about guiding the youth toward something productive through football.
The star of the show is Mohd Zeeshan Ayub, who plays the Muslim founder. He delivers a strong performance, his expressions changing effortlessly as the situation shifts. He’s a natural and perfectly suited for the role of the calm, steady, and rarely perturbed founder. Manav Kaul, meanwhile, plays the Kashmiri Hindu founder who’s quiet yet exhibits all the traits of an effective entrepreneur. He has a vision, and he wants it achieved. Together, they form the heart of the series.
Beyond the two main characters, Abhishant Rana stands out as the Kashmiri youngster searching for direction. His character is mischievous and witty, but he’s also a youngster without goals. Watching him find hope just when his life could have taken a darker turn was heartwarming.
I would easily call it a must-watch series. It is uplifting, relevant, and rooted in reality. The story leaves you with a sense of calm and optimism. It is a good watch for anyone looking for a positive story set in Kashmir.
If you enjoy meaningful sports dramas, this one fits well. The series is currently streaming on Sony Liv.
I watched Dhurandhar a few days back, and it has stayed with me ever since. It keeps running in my head – the songs, the action sequences, the passion for the country. The nationalist in me is satisfied.
For the first time in a long while, an Indian spy movie moved away from humanizing terrorism. That shift feels bold and necessary. The film forces you to sit with harsh truths instead of offering easy heroes and neat endings. It does not try to make violence look noble or harmless. That honesty is what makes Dhurandhar powerful, and also hard to shake off.
Personally, I felt a quiet mix of angst and sorrow when I saw some people brush the film off as propaganda or political. This view is subjective, but it still made me uneasy. The events shown are not opinions or theories. They happened. Calling a film like Dhurandhar propaganda does a disservice to the people who lost their lives in terrorist attacks. It dismisses real events that happened and real pain that was lived. These truths were not addressed openly for years, often out of fear or sheer convenience. When cinema finally creates space to tell these stories, the instinct should be to listen, not reject. The strong box office response shows that many people are ready to face uncomfortable realities. That response matters. Aditya Dhar deserves credit for choosing honesty over comfort. I have admired his films for consistently daring to tell stories most would rather avoid.
When the screen turned red, I could not hold back my tears. It made me emotional. But I also wondered if anyone watched that moment and felt nothing at all. That thought itself felt disturbing. Not feeling the pain of fellow Indians, or even a flicker of anger, says something deeper. In a country where apathy is already common, it is easy to believe some viewers saw it with blank eyes. For them, everything uncomfortable becomes propaganda, dismissed as an attempt to show Pakistan in a bad light.
Sometimes it feels like a lost cause to expect people to stand firmly with the country, without hesitation or filters. Many of us avoid the truth because it feels uncomfortable. We prefer to hide behind safe words like peace and love. But years of doing that came at a cost. We were taken for granted. Our suffering was questioned. Our stories were dismissed as lies or branded as conspiracy theories.
I think it is time for India to stand up for itself. We need to acknowledge our truth and stop looking away. Facing reality head-on is not hatred or extremism. It is honesty. Only when we accept what went wrong can we learn from it. Growth does not come from denial. It comes from clarity, courage, and accountability.
Now there are people who argue that this much truth does not belong on screen. If that were true, then why do we make social films like Homebound at all? Those films are also hard-hitting and deeply uncomfortable. Cinema has always helped bring difficult issues to the public in a more digestible way. Stopping that only pushes reality back into silence.
The violence in the movie is also being criticised, but real-world events prove how close such scenes are to the truth. The recent lynching of a Hindu man in Bangladesh is a grim reminder that brutality is not exaggerated fiction. Dhurandhar does not sugarcoat this reality, and that honesty is exactly why it matters.
Coming to the performances, while many are praising Akshaye Khanna, for me it was Ranveer Singh who truly stood out. His eyes did most of the talking, and it was brilliant to watch. There was a quiet intensity in his acting that stayed with me. Sara Arjun also impressed me with her performance and screen presence. She brought both grace and emotional weight to her role. The music deserves special mention too. It lingers in your mind and pulls you back into the world of Dhurandhar long after the film ends.
Overall, I would say Dhurandhar is a must-watch. It is not an easy film, but it is an important one. It stays with you long after the credits roll. I most probably would end up watching it again.
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 movieis 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.
I waited a while before watching Neeraj Ghaywan’s Homebound on Netflix. Even with glowing reviews and friends urging me to watch it, I knew it wouldn’t be an easy experience. It’s heavy in more ways than one, because the film doesn’t just explore caste discrimination, it also shines a light on the prejudice faced by Muslims in India. So from the beginning, you know you’re stepping into something intense and uncomfortable.
Neeraj Ghaywan holds an important place in Indian cinema as he’s one of the very few Dalit directors who publicly acknowledge his Dalit identity. As viewers, most of us don’t sit and think about a filmmaker’s caste or religion when watching a movie. But the uncomfortable truth is that opportunities in the film industry still seem to be uneven. If he is the first Dalit filmmaker in decades because of gatekeeping rather than lack of talent, then that says a lot about how deep systemic bias still runs in India, even in an artistic platform like the film industry. This is something the film industries across India need to acknowledge and work on.
As expected, the story in Homebound was heartwrenching. It’s based on a real incident, which sadly doesn’t come as a surprise. The film also draws inspiration from the Bhim-Meem idea, a political expression that promotes Dalit-Muslim unity, adding another layer of depth and context to its narrative.
For me, the most heartbreaking scene was when Ishaan’s character, a young Muslim boy, is accused of being Pakistani after an India vs Pakistan cricket match. That moment was infuriating and hard to sit through.
At the same time, I feel Indian films need to move beyond the usual “General Category vs Dalit” and “Hindu vs Muslim” framework when addressing oppression. Recent incidents, including the honour killing of a Dalit man by an OBC family because he dared to love their girl, show that reality is much more complex in India, and discrimination doesn’t come from one direction. It exists across castes and religions. Dalit Christians, Pasmanda Muslims, and many others face layered forms of exclusion, yet these conversations rarely enter mainstream media or pop culture.
I recently spoke to someone from the Yadav community who felt that Yadavs should be getting more opportunities than others in Bihar. It surprised me, because it shows how deeply caste identity shapes expectations, even among groups that aren’t “upper caste.” It’s even sadder to see communities that once faced discrimination now repeating the same mindset toward those they see as lower in the hierarchy. Many people assume caste hierarchy is a simple top-to-bottom structure, but in reality, it behaves more like overlapping layers of status, power, and regional identity.
I also think about the discrimination that exists within minority communities. My neighbour, a very liberal Muslim woman in Kerala, once told me that some of her extended family members won’t eat food cooked by non-Muslims. So who addresses that side of prejudice?
If we want a more equal and united India, we need to acknowledge and call out all forms of discrimination. But if someone tries to make a film exploring other angles, it often gets labelled propaganda or agenda-driven. That makes honest conversation difficult.
We’ve seen similar themes in films like Dhadak 2 this year, and even the first Dhadak explored the same kind of social divide. Something that stood out to me across movies in this space was the prominent placement of Ambedkar’s photograph. It’s a small detail, but it says a lot. Ambedkar himself is a layered and complex figure. His critique was not limited to Hinduism, and he questioned multiple belief systems with the same sharpness. But that side of him rarely enters public discussion, because even many of his admirers seem hesitant or defensive about acknowledging it.
Many of us are ready to recognise discrimination against Muslims and Dalits, and those conversations are important. But there should also be space to talk about other traumatic histories like the Kashmiri Pandit exodus without being dismissed or judged. Empathy and understanding shouldn’t stop at one group. If injustice matters, it should matter universally.
This isn’t a rant. Just a hope that our films, stories, and discussions grow braver and more layered. Because India isn’t simple. It’s diverse, complicated, emotional, and full of uncomfortable truths. And storytelling feels meaningful when it reflects that reality rather than just one slice of it.
I recently came across a video featuring an interview with Stalin Devan, the activist managing the legal research and paperwork for Munambam. In this interview with Shajan Skariah, Stalin shares that Father Joshy added him to a WhatsApp group with the Munambam residents and said, “Explain one point from the Act every day in simple words.” Over time, Stalin became their legal guide, and his efforts are one of the main reasons the community now understands the law so well.
The interview was informative in many ways. At a time when there is still no clear update from politicians or the media on what is actually delaying the resolution for Munambam, even after the Waqf Amendment Bill was passed, Stalin explains the situation with complete clarity.
A screenshot of the video
The Three Possible Legal Outcomes for Munambam
According to Stalin, there are three possible solutions for Munambam:
The government restores revenue rights immediately. This can be done at any time if the Chief Minister approves an administrative order restoring those rights.
If the Supreme Court upholds the High Court order declaring the land not Waqf, all cases, tribunal, revenue, and others will automatically end.
If the Supreme Court rules otherwise, the next legal step will rely on the amended law using Section 2A.
Why Section 2A Cannot Be Used Yet
Earlier, I assumed that recent positive court developments were on the basis of Section 2A. I later realised that was incorrect. Stalin’s interview clarified it. He said:
“We must wait for the rules to be notified. Only after the rules come into force can we use the amendment. As soon as the rules are published, we will file a new petition before the Waqf Tribunal. Once the new rules take effect, the Waqf Board’s order cannot survive.”
It was only through him that I learned the rules tied to the amendment have not yet been fully implemented (central rules were notified in July 2025, but further steps, such as central and state compliance and the ongoing Supreme Court matter, are still pending). Once implementation of the rules is complete, Munambam will be able to use the amendment (Section 2A) fully to establish its rights.
This is where politics begins to overlap with law.
Where Politics Meets Law
Stalin said:
“When everything is resolved, people should celebrate and then withdraw the protest with dignity. But politics entered the issue, and some withdrew support — not because the problem is unresolved, but because they feared the BJP might gain political mileage.”
This is why I feel that even though BJP is the party that helped Munambam with the establishment of new Waqf amendments that can prove favourable to Munambam residents, the Congress-led alliance (UDF) may still win the election there.
Strategically, it makes sense. Now that they’ve pushed the BJP to change the Waqf rules, Christian voters can continue supporting the party they feel protects their religious interests, especially one that does not interfere with missionary activity.
UDF has traditionally been the preferred choice of many Christian voters in Kerala. However, their position on the Waqf Amendment has not aligned with what Munambam residents expected or hoped for. Even so, Christian voters may still continue supporting UDF, largely because they align with the coalition’s lack of anti-conversion sentiment.
Why Timing Matters to BJP and CPM
Here’s where it gets interesting. What follows is only my analysis, not a confirmed claim:
As mentioned earlier, the amendment becomes fully usable only after the remaining implementation steps (central and state action, portal uploads, surveys, and Supreme Court clarity). That process can take months, sometimes more than a year.
Because of that, the timing is now in the hands of both the Central Government (BJP) and the Kerala Government (CPM). Residents say Rijiju has not been active recently. It is possible that the central leadership is waiting to see how the political situation evolves before re-engaging. The BJP may already understand that, even with the support they are offering, they might still not gain full trust or support from the Munambam Christian community. Religious identity often influences decisions more than political assistance. BJP may choose to wait and see whether their support translates into goodwill before offering more help or speeding up the process. In short, they might be waiting for election results to analyze public sentiment.
Meanwhile, CPM has not yet updated or published Waqf lists in the state gazette or uploaded them to the central portal. This is of utmost importance to implement the waqf amendment. CPM has not given explicit technical reasons for the delay.
Current Status of the Waqf Amendment Process (December 5, 2025)
Central Government (BJP)
The Act itself was published and came into force in April 2025. Rules were notified in July 2025. But implementation is still pending: WAMSI portal digitization is incomplete, nationwide surveys and audits have not been done, and the Supreme Court stay since September blocks key provisions.
The central government’s delay primarily reflects implementation challenges. However, political considerations may also play a role, as governments often pace sensitive rollouts based on election outcomes and political advantage.
Kerala Government (CPM)
CPM has not published Waqf lists in the Kerala state gazette. Nor have they uploaded lists to the central portal (90-day deadline under Section 2A). Waqf Tribunal and Board procedures are not aligned yet.
The Kerala government’s delay appears more political in nature. They seem to be officially resisting the amendment.
My view is that the full rollout (central setup, state compliance, and Supreme Court resolution) will now unfold at a pace influenced by political timing. Legally, the delay should not be indefinite, but in practice, regulations and execution can remain pending for a long time if the government chooses.
Why Munambam’s Leadership Is Remaining Neutral
Politics has made the situation complicated.
Many in the Munambam Land Protection Council do not want the BJP to gain politically, but they appear to be trying to remain neutral as the process is still unfinished. The ball is still in the court of both CPM and BJP. This may also explain why Church leaders reportedly asked Joseph Benny, the head of the Munambam Land Protection Council, to withdraw from the election as a UDF candidate. Any outright political affiliation may prove disadvantageous to Munambam residents at this stage.
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Photo By നിരക്ഷരൻ at ml.wikipedia, CC BY-SA 3.0
It is by chance that I stumbled on the Co-Ed series on Amazon MX Player. The algorithm showed the trailer to me and I thought I would give it a try. I wasn’t expecting much but I was in for a surprise.
Co-Ed looks like a simple school drama at first, but it quickly turns into a lively mix of humour, friendship, and small twists that keep you curious. The writing feels fresh, and the young cast brings an energy that makes every episode, lasting around 20-30 minutes, easy to watch. I found myself hitting the next episode button without even thinking.
What’s It About?
Two twins step into a new chapter when their all-boys and all-girls schools merge to form a co-ed campus. The boy is nervous about sharing space with girls for the first time, while his sister walks in with full confidence. As they try to adjust to this sudden shift, their parents are also dealing with their own set of challenges at home. The mix of teenage chaos and family moments gives the series a relatable, everyday charm that keeps you curious about what happens next.
Thoughts
Co-Ed Season 1 took me by surprise. I didn’t expect to enjoy it this much.
Every actor in the series delivers a heartfelt performance. Honestly, they outshone many big names I watched this year. That says a lot. You slip into the world of the characters so easily that their joys and troubles feel like your own. You laugh with them and you end up tearing up with them too.
The parents in the story add another layer of emotion. Their struggles feel raw and real. I could sense the mother’s pain as she tries to hold everything together while staying proud of her small business. The question is, does her family see the same value in it? On the outside, the parents look like the perfect couple who split chores and support each other. But life is rarely that simple. It is often the quiet moments, the unsaid thoughts and the tiny frustrations that shape a home. Co-Ed captures all of this with surprising depth.
Rajeshwari Sachdev, Varun Badola, Adrija Sinha, Vedant Sinha, and Stuti Sahijwani are impressive in their respective roles. They complemented each other perfectly.
Shows like Co-Ed deserve a lot more attention. Viewers who enjoy warm, slice-of-life stories often find these gems by luck, not because they are promoted by popular reviewers.
For me, this one is a must-watch. You can stream it for free with ads on Amazon MX Player.
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