There’s a sense of explosiveness that boils up beneath all that’s going on in Shlok Sharma’s Haraamkhor. Like every little secret love affair, Haraamkhor lies right on the boundary of moral transgression and universal hate. However, Shlok Sharma’s incredible sense of covering the boundaries whilst questioning love, loneliness, and vulnerability evokes subtle greatness that his little film boldly puts on its shoulder like a cape made of wretched cloth pieces.
It was 2nd November 2015, a remarkable day in the week of cinematic wonders that is MAMI Film Festival. I was among the first few people to attend the Indian premiere of Haraamkhor. I brag about it because I was the last delegate, in (almost endless) stand by queue, who was allowed to enter the screening. I’ve seen people standing in the queue for hours and fighting authorities just to watch this movie. However, after few months, the role was reversed. The film had to stand in queue for almost a year and fight authorities in order to reach its audience. The film has emerged victorious in its battle against CBFC, but this victory would mean nothing without our support.
