Vijayendra Mandavkar

Vijayendra Mandavkar’s “Majhi Prarthana” (2025) really doesn’t follow the usual playbook for Marathi drama. The story dives straight into the tangled web of faith, family, and the brutal reality of small-town life, with all its gossip, heartbreak, and that weird mix of hope and resignation. At the center is Shridhar, a soft-spoken music teacher whose prayers are less about gods and more about getting through another day without the world collapsing on his head. He’s got a complicated relationship with his teenage daughter, who’s growing up way too fast for his comfort, and a mother who’s convinced that every problem can be solved by another round of rituals and offerings. Shridhar’s world gets thrown off balance when a tragedy hits their tight-knit community, and suddenly everyone’s pointing fingers, searching for someone or something to blame. The film doesn’t give you simple villains or heroes, just a bunch of messy, very real people trying to make sense of their pain. The music in the background isn’t just decoration—it’s woven right into the story, echoing Shridhar’s inner chaos and fleeting moments of hope. There’s this running theme about prayers—what they mean, who’s listening (if anyone), and whether it’s all just noise in the end. The cinematography doesn’t glamorize anything. It’s raw, sometimes almost uncomfortable, but it feels honest. “Majhi Prarthana” doesn’t tie things up in a neat bow. Instead, it leaves you thinking about the small mercies and silent battles that shape everyday lives. Definitely not your typical melodrama.