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What comes to mind when you think of Bhojpuri cinema and its music? For many, the image is a crude mix of vulgarity and objectification, a stereotype reinforced by viral videos that dominate the digital space. But to judge Bhojpuri by this alone is to ignore a rich, artistic history - one that has been systematically erased by a culture of exploitation and cheap thrills. In this episode of Janab Aise Kaise we explore the story of how a cinema born from the vision of India's first president has devolved into a cultural landscape dominated by vulgarity and, more troublingly, political agendas.
On the evening of August 29, 2025, a music show was held in Lucknow. Haryanvi actress Anjali Raghav and Bhojpuri industry's 'star' Pawan Singh, were performing on stage. During the performance, Pawan Singh touched Anjali's stomach, saying, "Something is stuck here." Anjali was visibly uncomfortable with his uninvited touch, and the moment was caught on camera. A day later, a video from Anjali appeared, where she expressed her anger at being touched without her consent and stated that she would no longer work in the Bhojpuri industry.
The first Bhojpuri film, 'Hey Ganga Maiya Tohe Piyari Chadhaibo,' was released in 1963, a direct result of a conversation between President Rajendra Prasad and actor Nazir Hussain. This cinematic journey began with the voices of legends like Mohammed Rafi, Asha Bhosle and Lata Mangeshkar, and a focus on poignant storytelling. Early classics like 'Bidesia' and 'Laagi Nahi Chhoote Ram' tackled complex social issues, from the pain of migration to the struggle for equality.
So, how did this artistic heritage descend into "navel era"? The answer is a blend of commercial opportunism and a lack of accountability. With the advent of music albums in the 90s and the subsequent rise of YouTube, recording studios mushroomed, churning out low-quality songs at a wholesale rate. The focus shifted from meaningful content to double-meaning lyrics and titillating visuals, where the female body became a commodity to be exploited.
But the problem goes deeper than just vulgarity. A more insidious trend has emerged: the use of Bhojpuri music as a vehicle for political and communal agendas. Songs laced with anti-Muslim and pro-Hindutva sentiments have become part of the mainstream, using the genre to spread division and hate.
The logic offered by some industry figures is that if Bollywood has vulgar songs, why can't Bhojpuri? But the question remains as to why not instead follow the good work being done in Hindi cinema?
To save Bhojpuri cinema, a fundamental shift is needed. Director Nitin Chandra outlines three essential reforms: change the faces in front of the camera, improve production quality behind the camera, and create a new audience by releasing films in theaters with compelling, high-quality content.
This "back to basics" approach is a path forward. The success of independent artists like Swati Mishra, who produce devotional and romantic songs free of vulgarity, proves that a market for quality content exists. The massive, global Bhojpuri-speaking audience, from rural India to Mauritius, is a goldmine waiting for stories that resonate with their lives, not just their baser instincts.
Bhojpuri artists and producers must abandon the easy money and the lazy, exploitative content that has plagued the industry. They have a rich legacy to reclaim, a global audience to serve, and a responsibility to restore the dignity of their art form. The question is whether the industry is willing to change, or will it remain trapped in the same old, tired loop.