Dear Kabir Singh


The whole nation is talking about you as your story is unveiled to the masses, and millions of people pool at theory to see your supposed “rage”. A crowd of drunk college boys sit in the first row of the theatre and hoot as you push ice into your pants and slap the girl you “love” and scream in the faces of people and gulp down alcohol like it’s water. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

There have been mixed reactions. Some people are glorifying you as you’re the perfect “depressed” hero with alcohol in your veins and scalpel in your fist. And the second group calls you toxic, and blatantly misogynistic as you threaten your girlfriend with a knife to have sex. I am a part of that group.

Remember, Kabir, Love is many things but not what you feel. Obsession is a better word. It’s not love when you hurt the other. It’s not love when you threaten the other. It’s not love when you mark someone as yours. You don’t own people, you simply don’t. India has been named one of the most unsafe countries and you are speeding up the danger vehicle. Because you’re normalising violence. you’re normalising hurt by giving it the name of love. You’re making depressed people endangered because your definition of depression is violence. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

There’s so much wrong with you Kabir, and with Preeti who accepts. There’s so much wrong with your story. But it’s not you who disgusts me, because you’re someone who is fictional. The people who created you are very, very real. And it’s not you who scares me, it’s the people admiring you.


by Saptaparna