Why does the Ramayana continue to fascinate generations of Bharateeyas, irrespective of who narrates it, who portrays its characters or how many times the epic is retold? Why does the mere mention of Lord Ram, Maa Sita, Lakshman or Hanuman stir emotions, evoke goosebumps, and create an inexplicable sense of belonging? The answer lies beyond cinema, celebrity and box-office calculations. Ramayana is not merely a story we watch; it is an inheritance we carry. Yet another cinematic adaptation of Ramayana, reportedly featuring a star like Ranbir Kapoor as Lord Ram, has generated enormous expectations. It would not be surprising if the film breaks existing box-office records, even before critics pronounce their verdict. But why? Is it merely the star power, extravagant production, cutting-edge technology or spectacular visual effects? In my view, none of these alone can explain the extraordinary anticipation. The real attraction is the timeless appeal of Ramayana itself. The filmmaker is not creating a new fascination; he is tapping into one that has existed for centuries. We have witnessed this phenomenon before. When Ramanand Sagar brought Ramayana to television in the late 1980s, something extraordinary happened. Streets wore a deserted look during telecast hours. Families gathered around television sets, often completing their household chores beforehand. People folded their hands when Lord Ram appeared on screen, while some even garlanded television sets. It was not simply a television serial commanding TRPs; it was an emotional and spiritual experience that united households across geographical, linguistic and social boundaries. For millions, Sunday mornings became sacred appointments. That was the power of an epic that needed neither superstar remuneration nor elaborate cinematic technology to captivate an entire nation. Arun Govil, Deepika Chikhalia and Sunil Lahri became household names because audiences saw more than actors portraying characters. They saw Ram, Sita and Lakshman through them. Ramanand Sagar had understood something that today’s filmmakers would do well to remember: spectacle can attract audiences, but only sincerity and emotional authenticity can touch their hearts.
Why does this connection endure? Perhaps because our relationship with Ramayana is much older than our exposure to books, television or cinema. Generations have grown up listening to its stories through parents, grandparents, temple traditions, festivals, folk performances and countless retellings. Its characters and values have become part of our cultural memory. Science may explain genetic inheritance and ancestral lineages, while psychology recognises the influence of collective memory and inherited cultural experiences. Our civilisational understanding goes further, through Samskaras, Vasanas and the philosophy of Karma. The four dimensions of Karma — Sanchita, Prarabdha, Kriyamana and Agami — offer another way of understanding how actions, impressions and consequences connect generations and individual lives. Whether one approaches these ideas through spirituality, philosophy or cultural inheritance, the emotional familiarity of Ramayana is difficult to dismiss. There is also a reason why Lord Ram remains relevant beyond the battlefield of Lanka. His life raises enduring questions about duty, sacrifice, relationships, governance, righteousness, and the difficult choices between personal desires and public responsibility. Sita represents strength and dignity; Lakshman, loyalty; Hanuman, devotion and selfless service; and Jatayu, courage and sacrifice. These are not merely characters in an ancient narrative but ideals that continue to invite reflection. One must therefore remember that no actor owns Lord Ram, no director owns the Ramayana and no film can claim to have created its magic. Cinema can reinterpret the epic, introduce it to younger generations and present its grandeur to global audiences. But filmmakers must approach it with sensitivity, research and reverence rather than treating it as just another commercial franchise. Ultimately, the biggest box-office draw of any Ramayana film is not its star cast or production budget. It is Ram himself. We do not need another film to discover him. We only need a sincere filmmaker to remind us of what generations have never forgotten. Ramayana does not need cinema to survive. Cinema needs Ramayana to discover its timeless magic.
