Kolkata, 2 June (H.S.): Amidst the glitz, guns, and glamour that currently dominate the Indian box office, a quiet yet powerful film titled Kharif has emerged as a breath of fresh realism. Eschewing stars, spectacle, and song, the film turns its lens towards the real backbone of India — the farmers and daily wage laborers whose struggles seldom make it to the big screen.
While mainstream films like Animal and Jaat made noise with their bullets and brash dialogues, Kharif dares to narrate the silences — the exhaustion in a farmer’s day, the quiet hunger of a laborer’s evening. It’s a film that doesn’t just entertain; it empathizes.
Kharif is an unflinching portrayal of agrarian life in India. Without the support of a big studio or a promotional blitz, producers Trilok Kothari, Prakash Choudhary, and Dhirendra Dimri have taken a courageous leap to craft a story where cinema becomes a medium of resistance and reflection. The film is grounded in the belief that cinema can be about truth, not just triumph.
Screenwriter Vikram Singh summed it up poignantly in a social media post: Kharif is not propaganda, it’s protest — against the silence that buries a farmer’s voice. When the farmer becomes a statistic, we need films that remind us — this too is India.
Shot extensively across Rajasthan, Gujarat, Delhi, and Mumbai, Kharif captures the raw textures of rural life with remarkable sincerity. The actors — Manoj Kumar, Manoj Pandey, Yamini Mishra, Prakash Choudhary, and Samrat Soni — immersed themselves fully, spending time in villages and working closely with locals to internalize their roles.
Filming took place during the searing Rajasthan summer, with temperatures often crossing 45°C. Yet, the cast and crew persisted, working in harsh conditions to ensure every frame resonated with authenticity. The visuals — barefoot children running through fields, weary shoulders of farm workers, dreams in women’s eyes — form a poetic tapestry of rural India.
Set against the backdrop of the national farmers’ protests, Kharif fills a conspicuous void in Indian cinema, which has largely sidestepped this pivotal moment in contemporary history. Where commercial cinema remained silent, Kharif speaks — not in slogans, but in lived truths. It stands as a cinematic document of lives that till the land not for glory, but to quell their hunger.
The film steers clear of ideological grandstanding. It doesn’t preach — it presents. With a tone that is as grounded as its subjects, Kharif brings to screen a story soaked in the earthy scent of India’s villages. Every shot is a witness to the endurance of the farming community, living through uncertain rains and political neglect.
At a time when Indian cinema is increasingly veering towards gloss and high-concept visuals, Kharif serves as a reminder that there is still space — and need — for stories written with heart. The next time someone asks, “Is there a film about farmers?”, the answer will not be a shrug — it will be Kharif. Not lightweight, but weighty with truth.
Hindusthan Samachar / Satya Prakash Singh