Special Report
Govt case for administered content code gains ground
Big Brother will soon not just be watching but acting, and news broadcasters will have nowhere to hide because they will not have much of a case to defend.That is a hard truth that otherwise responsible heads of news networks accede to in private but refuse to acknowledge in public.
The first practical signs of that came on 4 February. The spark: coverage of the political skirmishes over ‘outsiders crowding out locals‘ in Mumbai city.
Invoking for the first time the provisions of the Cable Television Networks (Regulation) Act, 1995, the Mumbai Police reportedly ordered transmission of two news channels – Sahara Mumbai and India TV – be stopped “for repeatedly telecasting clippings of tension between workers of the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS) and Samajwadi Party (SP)”. Cable operators were directed to stop transmission of the two channels for 24 hours from the time they received a copy of the order.
Joint commissioner of police (law and order) KL Prasad was quoted in an Indian Express report as saying, “We have issued an order under Section 19 of the Act, which specifically states that ‘half truths‘ cannot be spread.”
The ‘half truth‘, Prasad said, was in the manner in which the channels tried to depict through pictures, videos and words that ‘Mumbai is tense‘. “A situation controlled in 20 minutes was made to look as if it was still happening,” Prasad pointed out.
Sahara Mumbai head Rajeev Bajaj‘s reaction was on expected lines: “If an order has been passed, we will fight it out in court.”
The 4th February action by the authorities becomes even more relevant if we keep in mind the fact that the I&B ministry is already majorly upset with the News Broadcasters Association (NBA) for having failed to meet their own stated deadline of 31 January for submitting a Content Code.
“They have sent us nothing, despite the fact that they themselves had set the deadline and we think they are not interested,” senior I&B officials complained.
The government is worried about the excessive repetitions of shots of violence – whether against women, or communal in nature and says, “This is really dangerous and the editors must now take a call on this.”
Incidentally, the ministry is also gearing up to meet a Delhi High Court deadline on sitting down with the Indian Newspaper Society, the Indian Media Group and the Indian Broadcasting Foundation to thrash out depiction of violence and obscenity in the media.
Hearing a writ petition requesting the court to pass an order to tell the ministry to take action on such depictions, the court had given an interim order on 14 December, for the organisations and the ministry to thrash out issues and report to the court within 10 weeks.
The government feels that the NBA is wasting time and that the ministry would have to soon come out with its Code.
So just what is it that forces otherwise responsible news channel heads to do what is so patently against all norms of even the most basic of journalistic practices?
A one line answer could of course be, ‘The low road is the easy road to ratings riches‘. An already cluttered market getting ever more crowded by the day and with no regulation to govern conduct, it‘s easy to see why most channels are taking this route.
There is another factor at work here that is worth a mention. Which is that the tabloid news channel proposition is a viable entry strategy for those without the deep pockets that are required for launching an entertainment channel. So in essence these channels are not too far removed from entertainment channels, with a whole load of extremely low cost fictional content to offer as well in addition to the regular fare that is principally infotainment rather than news.
There is an added intrinsic logic that we believe is driving this obsession with the bizarre and the salacious as far as the ‘tabloidised‘ Hindi news channels are concerned. It might well be that these channels are filling a real and existing need gap for the Hindi male viewer looking for entertainment.
After all, where does the Hindi heartland male viewer get his daily dose of TV entertainment if we accept that Hindi GECs are targeted mainly at women? Where else but Hindi news channels – which might explain why the preponderance of sex, crime, and the plain bizarre is working for Hindi news channels.
Coming back to where all this started, the present situation is clearly becoming more and more untenable. Something has to give. The sad part of this is that it will likely be the government giving a bull in a China shop solution that will be to the detriment of all news broadcasters; and more importantly, the public at large.
MUMBAI: Some friendships are made in heaven; others are coded in Mumbai. Hamara Vinayak, the first-ever digital original from Siddharth Kumar Tewary’s Swastik Stories, turns the divine into the delightful, serving up a story that’s equal parts start-up hustle and spiritual hustle.
Some tech start-ups chase unicorns. This one already has a god on board. Hamara Vinayak takes the leap from temple bells to notification pings and it does so with heart, humour and a healthy dose of the divine.
At its core, the show asks a simple but audacious question: what if God wasn’t up there, but right beside you, maybe even debugging your life over a cup of chai?
The show’s tagline, “God isn’t distant… He’s your closest friend” perfectly captures its quirky soul. Across its first two episodes, screened exclusively for media in Mumbai, the series proves that enlightenment can come with a good punchline.
The series follows a group of ambitious young entrepreneurs running a Mumbai-based tech start-up that lets people around the world book exclusive virtual poojas at India’s most revered shrines. But as their app grows, so do their ethical grey zones. Into this chaos walks Vinayak, played with soulful serenity and sly wit by the charming Namit Das, a young man whose calm smile hides something celestial.
He’s got the peaceful look of a saint but the wit of someone who could out-think your favourite stand-up comic. Around him spins a crew of dream-driven youngsters – Luv Vispute, Arnav Bhasin, Vaidehi Nair and Saloni Daini who run a Mumbai-based tech start-up offering devotees across the world the chance to book “exclusive” poojas at India’s most sacred shrines. It’s a business plan that blends belief and broadband – and, as the story unfolds, also tests the moral compass of its ambitious founders.
“The first time I read the script, I found the character very pretty,” Namit joked at the post-screening interaction. “It’s a beautiful thought that God isn’t distant, he’s your closest friend. And playing Vinayak, you feel that calm but also his cleverness. He’s the friend who makes you think.”
The reactions to the series ranged from smiles to sighs of wonder. Viewers were charmed by the show’s sincerity and sparkle, a quality that stems from its creator’s belief that faith can be funny without being frivolous.
Among the cast, Luv Vispute shines brightest, his comic timing adding sparkle to the show’s more reflective beats. But what keeps Hamara Vinayak engaging is the easy rhythm of its writing – one moment touching, the next teasing, always gently reminding us that spirituality doesn’t have to be solemn.
Luv spoke fondly of his long association with Swastik. “Since my first show was with Swastik, this feels like home,” he said. “Every project with them is positive, feel-good, and this one just had such a different vibe. I truly feel blessed.”
Saloni Daini, who brings infectious warmth to her role, added that she signed up the moment she heard the show was about “Bappa.”
“We shot during the Ganpati festival,” she recalled. “The energy on set was incredible festive, faithful, and full of laughter. It’s such a relatable story for our generation: chaos, friendship, love, kindness, and faith all mixed together.”
Vaidehi Nair and Arnav Bhasin complete the ensemble, each representing different shades of ambition and morality in the start-up’s journey. Their camaraderie is easy and believable, a testament to how much the cast connected off-screen as well.
This clever fusion of mythology and modernity plays to India’s two enduring loves, entertainment and faith. Mythology has long been the comfort zone of Indian storytellers, from the televised epics of the 1980s to the glossy remakes that still command prime-time TRPs. For decades, gods have been our most bankable heroes. But Hamara Vinayak tweaks the formula not by preaching, but by laughing with its characters, and sometimes, at their confusion about where divinity ends and data begins.
Creator Siddharth Kumar Tewary, long hailed as Indian television’s myth-maker for shows like Mahabharat, Radha Krishn and Porus, explained the show’s intent with characteristic clarity, “This is our first story where we are talking directly to the audience, not through a platform,” he said. “We wanted to connect young people with our culture to say that God isn’t someone you only worship; He’s your friend, walking beside you, even when you take the wrong path. The story may be simple, but the thought is big.”
That blend of philosophy and playfulness runs through the show. “We had to keep asking ourselves why we’re doing this,” Tewary added. “It’s tricky to make something positive and spiritual for the OTT audience, they’ve changed, they want nuance, not sermons. But when the purpose is clear, everything else aligns.”
For the creator of some of Indian TV’s most lavish spectacles, Hamara Vinayak marks a refreshing tonal shift. Here, Tewary trades celestial kingdoms for co-working spaces and cosmic battles for office banter. Yet his signature remains: an eye for allegory, a love for faith-infused storytelling, and an understanding that belief is most powerful when it feels personal.
Hamara Vinayak, after all, feels less like a sermon and more like a conversation over chai about what success means, what faith costs, and why even the gods might be rooting for a start-up’s Series A round.
As Namit Das reflected during the Q&A, “Life gives us many magical, divine moments we just forget to notice them. Sometimes even through a phone screen, you see something that redirects you. That’s a Vinayak moment.”
The series also mirrors a larger cultural pivot. As audiences migrate from television to OTT, myth-inspired tales are finding new form and flexibility online. The digital screen lets creators like Tewary reinvent the genre, giving ancient ideas a modern interface, without losing the emotional charge that’s made mythology India’s storytelling backbone for decades.
In a country where faith trends faster than any hashtag, Hamara Vinayak feels both familiar and refreshingly new, a comedy that’s blessed with heart, humour and just enough philosophy to keep the binge holy.
For a country where mythology remains the oldest streaming service, Tewary’s move from TV to OTT feels both natural and necessary. Indian storytellers have always turned to gods for drama, guidance and TRPs from Ramayan and Mahabharat on Doordarshan to glossy mytho-dramas on prime time. But digital platforms allow creators to remix reverence with realism, and in Hamara Vinayak, faith gets an interface upgrade.
The result is a show that feels like a warm chat with destiny, part comedy, part contemplation. And in an age of cynicism, that’s no small miracle.
As Tewary put it, smiling at his cast, “The message had to be positive. We just wanted to remind people that even in chaos, God hasn’t unfriended you.”
With 5 episodes planned, Hamara Vinayak promises to keep walking that fine line between laughter and light. It’s mythology with memes, devotion with dialogue, and a digital-age reminder that even the cloud has a silver lining or perhaps, a divine one.
If the first two episodes are any sign, the show doesn’t just bridge heaven and earth, it gives both a Wi-Fi connection.
