A New India
Chapter 257 - 257: Meeting with Censor Board

The large mahogany conference table in the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting was surrounded by a nervous group of people.

The members of the Central Board of Film Certification, commonly known as the Censor Board, had been summoned for an urgent meeting with Prime Minister Rohan.

There were whispers of discontent and speculation among them, as the Prime Minister's intentions remained unclear.

Some were veterans of the board, used to bureaucratic inertia, while others were newly appointed and still learning the ropes.

But one thing united them all an uneasy anticipation.

Rohan entered the room, his posture upright, his expression sharp.

The murmurs immediately died down as the Prime Minister's commanding presence took over the space.

His eyes scanned the room, and he noted the mix of apprehension and intrigue on the faces before him.

He wasn't here to make small talk or indulge in pleasantries.

"Good morning," Rohan began, his tone measured but very serious.

"I've called this meeting because the current state of the Censor Board is unacceptable. Bollywood, as it stands, is failing the nation, and the blame lies squarely with this body."

The chairperson of the board, an aging bureaucrat named Dinesh Kapoor, cleared his throat nervously. "Prime Minister, we follow the guidelines laid out by—"

Rohan raised his hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Enough. I'm not here to hear excuses, Kapoor. I'm here to fix the problem. And make no mistake, the problem is significant."

He placed a thick file on the table, the sound resonating in the silent room. "This," he said, tapping the file, "is a document outlining the reforms I expect this board to implement. You have one month to get it done. If you fail, every single one of you will be replaced."

The board members exchanged uneasy glances.

Rohan's reputation as a decisive and uncompromising leader was well-known, but this level of directness was unexpected.

Rohan continued, his voice firm. "The first change is simple. The purpose of the Censor Board is no longer just certification. It is to ensure that the films released in this country align with our cultural values, historical truths, and national identity. This means no more glorification of invaders, no more whitewashing of history, and no more undermining Hindu culture."

A younger member of the board, Arvind Mehra, hesitantly raised his hand. "Prime Minister, with all due respect, isn't the purpose of the board to ensure age-appropriateness rather than dictate narratives?"

Rohan's gaze fixed on him, cold and unyielding. "Mehra, cinema is one of the most powerful tools of influence in the modern world. It shapes perceptions, inspires movements, and defines how a nation sees itself. If we allow films to continue promoting distorted narratives, we're complicit in eroding our own culture."

Another member, Shalini Desai, spoke up cautiously. "But Prime Minister, won't these changes be seen as censorship? What about creative freedom?"

Rohan's expression didn't soften. "Creative freedom does not give anyone the license to undermine the nation's integrity. Let me be clear: this is not censorship. This is course correction. For times, Bollywood has operated without accountability. That ends today."

He flipped open the file and began outlining the reforms. "From now on, every script submitted to the board will be reviewed not just for age-appropriateness but also for its alignment with our cultural values. Films that glorify Hindu history, epics, and rulers will be prioritized. Conversely, films that promote narratives detrimental to our identity will not be certified."

Kapoor, visibly uncomfortable, attempted to interject. "Prime Minister, this will require significant changes to our process—"

"You have one month to make those changes," Rohan interrupted. "I don't care about your logistics. The mandate is clear."

He continued, "The second reform is transparency. Every decision made by this board will be documented and made public. The days of arbitrary and opaque certifications are over. The Indian people have a right to know how and why films are being approved or rejected."

Shalini nodded slowly. "That's fair. But what about training? Many of us lack the expertise to assess cultural alignment."

Rohan gestured toward the file. "It's all in there. You'll undergo mandatory training sessions with historians, cultural scholars, and linguists. These sessions will be intensive, and they start next week. No excuses."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

The room was silent, save for the faint scribbling of notes.

Then he continued, "The final reform is accountability. Every member of this board is accountable for the decisions they make. If a film is certified that violates these guidelines, the individuals responsible will face consequences, including dismissal and potential legal action."

The board members exchanged nervous glances.

The message was clear, Rohan was not bluffing.

Arvind spoke again, his tone cautious. "Prime Minister, what about films already in production? How do we handle projects that have been greenlit under the old system?"

"Simple," Rohan replied. "They will be reviewed under the new guidelines. If they don't align, they won't be certified. I understand this may create friction, but the integrity of our cultural narrative is more important than a few incomplete projects."

Kapoor, sensing the tension in the room, attempted to steer the conversation. "Prime Minister, we'll need additional resources to implement these changes within a month."

"You'll have them," Rohan said. "I'll ensure the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting provides whatever support you need. But let me be clear, resources are not an excuse for failure. If I don't see results in one month, this board will be replaced."

Rohan stood, signaling the end of the meeting. "You have your instructions. The clock starts now."

As he walked toward the door, he turned back, his voice cutting through the tension. "India is at a crossroads. We have the opportunity to reclaim our narrative, to tell our stories with pride and truth. This board has the power to shape that future. Don't waste it."

With that, he left the room, leaving the board members in stunned silence.

The seriousness of his mandate hung heavily in the air.

For better or worse, the Central Board of Film Certification was about to change forever.