Padmaraj Rajgopal Nair

Padmaraj Rajgopal Nair’s “Majhi Prarthana,” set to drop in 2025, is honestly the kind of movie that creeps up on you and just sits with you for a while. The film orbits around Anjali, a small-town school teacher with a stubborn glint in her eye, who’s basically waging a silent war against the grind of life and, let’s be real, her own baggage. Some days she’s teaching kids who’d rather eat chalk than learn algebra, other days she’s dodging her nosy neighbor’s judgment about being unmarried at 35. The story’s heartbeat? Her relationship with her dad, who’s all heart but stuck in old-school traditions that just don’t fit anymore. As the monsoon rolls in—because of course, nothing says emotional turbulence like buckets of rain—Anjali’s life gets flipped when she stumbles across an old diary. The thing is, it’s not even hers; it belonged to her mom, who passed away when Anjali was a kid. What follows is this gentle unraveling: memories she’d shoved away, her dad’s secrets, and a bunch of questions about faith, forgiveness, and, well, what it means to actually pray for something. The movie doesn’t rush. Scenes linger, conversations feel like real arguments you’d have at your own dinner table, and the soundtrack? Chef’s kiss. It’s not just about prayers in the literal sense—it’s about hope, regret, and that messy, chaotic thing called family.