Dhadak 2: Bollywood’s Bold Reckoning with Caste and Love
- Atharva Salve
- Aug 26
- 7 min read
Directed by Shazia Iqbal, Dhadak 2 is the Bollywood adaptation of Mari Selvaraj’s well-received Tamil film Pariyerum Perumal (2018). This was Shazia Iqbal’s directorial debut, having previously worked on the short film Bebaak (2019) and as the lead production designer for the Emmy-nominated Sacred Games Series.
Dhadak 2, in Shazia Iqbal’s words, portrays caste in the modern context and explores its intricacies in the urban landscape of Bhopal. “I’m not claiming to change the industry, but I do feel strongly about representing the realities in my work. When I create characters, I don’t start with how tall they are. I start with their milieu. And milieu is a product of caste, class, religion, gender, sexuality— all of it,” says Iqbal in an interview with Scroll. Here, she emphasises the role of identity—and particularly caste—in any love story, something that remains unexplored in the plethora of romance movies that Bollywood churns out every year.
For ages, Bollywood has shied away from the topic of caste—most attempts only show disparities of class or religious differences. Dhadak 2 (2025) is an earnest attempt at highlighting caste in mainstream Bollywood, produced by Dharma Productions. One of the possible reasons that Bollywood has previously (and if its track record is to go by—will continue to) avoided mentions of caste might be because most stalwarts of the industry— in whatever capacity— come from dominant castes, and the monopoly continues to be powered by them for decades, powered by caste privilege and lineages that are hard to break.
Films that have introduced the representation of the marginalized populations of India in the mainstream—notably, Fandry (2013), Masaan (2015), Kaala (2018)—challenged norms within Bollywood itself. Here, the subject of the story was not the Hindu Brahmanical upper caste family that settled abroad, but marginalized subjects whose joys and sorrows were portrayed, raw and heart-wrenching. Jhund (2022) by Nagraj Manjule and starring Amitabh Bachchan deserves a mention here, where a retired sports teacher tries to form a football team with slum-dwelling children to keep them away from drugs and crime.
Dhadak’s part one, adapted from Nagraj Manjule’s Marathi-language masterpiece Sairat (2016), failed to capture the nuances of caste— critics saw Dhadak (2018) as only a sanitised and less impactful remake. “Dhadak transports the story to Udaipur, gives the two principal characters new names— Madhukar Bagla (Ishaan Khatter) and Parthavi Singh (Janhvi Kapoor)— and reduces to near-irrelevance the class and caste divides that the plot of Sairat swivelled around.” writes Chatterjee from NDTV.
It won’t be an exaggeration to say that Dhadak 2 is an introduction of caste to the Indian mainstream audience. The film captures the love and resilience between its two protagonists Nileesh, a Dalit boy and Viddhi, a Brahmin girl, played by Siddhant Chaturvedi and Tripti Dimri respectively. Nileesh aspires to be a lawyer like B.R. Ambedkar and manages to get admitted to a law college in Bhopal, where the film is set. However, he is met with harsh casteism in college, from taunts about his “quota” (reservation) seat, to the fact that he cannot speak English. Despite his identity and the vitriol he faces, he expresses the choice to stay away from politics to Shekhar (Priyank Tiwari), the leader of the college’s Ambedkarite Student Association (ASU).

Throughout the film, Shekhar and his accomplices organise movements and protests in the college over fellowships, and Nileesh tries his best to stay away from them. Halfway through the film, Shekhar and his two friends are expelled, and yet they continue their struggle—till Shekhar commits suicide. Shekhar’s character is a tribute to Rohit Vemula and his friends’ struggle against institutional casteism at Hyderabad Central University.

The film portrays caste atrocities against Nileesh inflicted by Viddhi’s brother and family—from public humiliations and physical violence to attempted murder. Dhadak 2 is blunt, with violence and anguish capable of making any viewer uncomfortable. That appears to be the point: atrocities happen just as they happen (and in a multitude of unimaginably worse ways) by exposing India’s mainstream audience to the pain of being a Dalit student, and therefore the multiple ways in which caste plays a role in everyday life. The fact that the film is not set in a town or village but in Bhopal is important; it highlights the visible and invisible nature of casteism in urban cities. This busts the myth that caste only exists in rural areas or in the past. In an important conversation with Viddhi, Nileesh talks about his lived realities of caste atrocities. Viddhi is shocked and says, “I thought this used to happen in the old times,” to which Nileesh replies, “Those who don’t go through it feel like it does not happen.” This is a commentary on caste-privilege that exists in the urban environments, that makes its often privileged or caste-blind populations unable to notice nuances and undertones of caste on a daily basis.
Dhadak 2 makes us realise the deep politics that play out in love. We realise that the act of loving in an unjust society is an act of rebellion. In a society where a person’s identity has been inherently determined as unconventional or “lower”, suffering becomes inevitable; the natural act of falling in love comes with deep repercussions. Dhadak 2 is about such repercussions.
Caste endogamy is the practice of marrying within one’s own caste or social group. From time to time, caste endogamy was, and is used as a weapon to prevent any possible inter-caste relations such a relationship would ruin the “caste purity” and lineage of the family. Sustaining caste was seen as an act of religious service. The film begins with Thomas Jefferson’s quote “When injustice becomes law, resistance becomes duty.” The Indian viewer is hence exposed to the deeply political nature of love, reminding us of the slogan “the personal is political.” Being able to love in a society entrenched with multi-layered disparities is a privilege not everyone can afford. The horrifying news of honour killings that we hear every other week are clear examples of the same. I can’t help but remember the recent caste-based honour killing of Kavin Selvaganesh, a young engineer from Chennai. Kavin Selva Ganesh, a 27-year-old Dalit software engineer, was brutally murdered in Tamil Nadu by his girlfriend’s brother for their inter-caste relationship.

Dhadak 2 engages with the topics of reservations (a consistently burning topic of critique for the dominant castes of India), student politics, and, of course, identity. As someone from a Dalit-Buddhist community, I felt my community to be represented for the first time on the big screen through its characters and struggles. So, while I find myself exceedingly glad that this film was made at all, and has received a fair amount of reception from audiences as well as critics, I cannot fully gloss over the many issues within the film pointed out by others and myself. Now the hope is that Bollywood does not whitewash caste and actually brings forth movies that make the viewer uncomfortable and self-critical in all the right ways.
Dhadak 2 makes important strides by centering caste discrimination within the personal and political lives of its characters, vividly depicting the everyday challenges faced by Dalit communities and the deep social gaps caste creates, especially in relationships. It confronts caste atrocities and the burden of “family izzat,” bringing seldom-seen realities into mainstream Bollywood.
However there are a few things that I wish the film also did. The film fell short of linking gendered oppression to Brahmanical patriarchy. I wish we got to hear more from potentially powerful voices like Nilesh’s mother, who is portrayed to be an activist in her colony, but the viewer gets to hear very less about her backstory. I also believe there were opportunities to show lasting political activism in Nileesh’s university. The sudden reconciliation at the end feels rushed, glossing over Nileesh’s trauma.
Ambedkarite Filmmaker Somnath Waghmare writes, “Dhadak 2 is an honest Bollywood attempt that every one needs to watch and acknowledge but, if the film team would have engaged and included Dalit - Ambedkarite artists, scholars and activists in the film process…” This criticism is also rooted in the debate around “brownfacing”— casting privileged actors as Dalit characters— which highlights ongoing challenges Bollywood faces in giving marginalized communities true representation. Shazia Iqbal, in an interview with Cinema Express, acknowledges the question of representation and filmmaking—“What does an actor do? It is literally embodying another person. So can a Brahmin embody a Dalit person's pain? Yes, they can, if they know their craft. Is a Dalit person better placed to do that? Also a yes to that.” She also addresses the controversy around brownfacing Siddhant Chaturvedi, a Brahmin actor who played the character of a Dalit boy. While I strongly believe that individuals from marginalized communities should be included in creative knowledge production, I also agree with the director here – that actors can indeed play roles that are different from their personal identity.
Like every piece of art, Dhadak 2 has its critiques. But I also believe Dhadak 2 should not be critiqued harshly given the political backdrop in which it found its place. Earlier this year, the film release of Santosh (2024) directed by Sandhya Suri, was blocked over its depiction of Islamophobia, casteism, misogyny, and police brutality. The Kerala Story, a 2023 film widely critiqued for its claims of mass conversions, inaccuracies and Islamophobia, recently won the National Film Award. Despite its worldwide acclaim by critics and audiences, Payal Kapadia’s All We Imagine As Light (2024) was not nominated for the National Film Award— possibly due to Payal Kapadia’s critical works like A Night of Knowing Nothing (2021), which challenge the current political status quo.
In such an era for the Indian film industry, where films are not only policed but censored and modified to support the majoritarian political climate, Dhadak 2’s release is nonhegemonic. The film was subjected to 16 cuts by the CFBC and a delayed release, with an (almost) 2-minute disclaimer added before the start of the film. Iqbal emphasises that it was her job to protect the emotions, message and soul of the film regardless.
Regardless of the critiques, Dhadak 2 is indeed one of the first confrontations of Bollywood with Dalit identity and the theme of caste. While a majority of privileged upper caste audience of India might not be ready for watching a film like this, it is important that an anti-caste assertion, art and knowledge creation continues, till we can proudly call ourselves a truly socially just society as imagined by Dr. B. R. Ambedkar.
(Edited by Teista Dwivedi and Giya Sood.)






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