Manas Bedekar

reference Manas Bedekar’s “Sant Dnyaneshwaranchi Muktaai” (2025) dives headfirst into the kaleidoscopic world of 13th-century Maharashtra, where faith and rebellion walk hand in hand. You’re swept straight into the dusty lanes of Alandi, smack in the middle of a family saga, with Muktaai—Dnyaneshwar’s sister—at the center. Not just a wallpaper saint, Muktaai’s got grit. She’s this firebrand who questions traditions, even as she’s weaving them into her life. The film doesn’t sugarcoat the era: social stigma, caste oppression, the suffocating rules for women—yeah, it’s all there, raw and unfiltered. You get this constant tug-of-war between spirituality and social reality. Dnyaneshwar’s teachings echo through the village, but it’s Muktaai who’s quietly subverting norms—challenging the priests, standing up for the outcasts. Relationships are messy. Love and loyalty clash with duty, and at the core, there’s this big, aching search for meaning. The visuals swing from sunlit temple courtyards to stormy riverbanks, capturing the moods of devotion, anger, and the small moments of joy among the chaos. The soundtrack? Oh, it’s drenched in abhangs and folk tunes, not just background noise, but the pulse of every scene. Dialogues crackle with poetry and bite, never shying away from the ugly or the beautiful. By the end, you’re not just watching Muktaai’s journey—you’re right there, wrestling with the same questions about faith, freedom, and the price of standing up for what you believe in.