Visakhapatnam: On December 22, while promoting the film Dhandoraa, senior Telugu actor Sivaji turned a speech on morals into an attack on the industry’s women. He used words like saamanlu (slang for body parts) and daridrapu munda (a slur). Sivaji called this “brotherly concern” and blamed women’s clothes for public harassment.

Actor Anasuya Bharadwaj and singer Chinmayi Sripada confronted him. Sivaji threatened Bharadwaj: “I hope I get the opportunity to pay back this debt (runam) to her very soon.”

More than 100 women professionals complained. The Telangana State Commission for Women issued suo motu summons. On December 26, Sivaji appeared before the commission and formally apologised.

But the women The Wire spoke to say the apology is cosmetic. They argue it addresses his “choice of words” rather than the “Mangapathi” ideology or the culture of impunity. 

The Sivaji controversy did not happen in a vacuum. It followed two violent incidents against women in the industry over the fortnight. On December 17, a crowd manhandled actress Nidhhi Agerwal during a song launch at Lulu Mall; police took action against the organisers. 

Four days later, a mob swarmed Samantha Ruth Prabhu at a store launch in Jubilee Hills. Critics noted the irony: Samantha wore a silk saree yet suffered the same violation as Nidhhi. These incidents dismantle the “modesty” defence and reveal a systemic failure of civic sense and progressive thinking.

Regional disparity meets a broad institutional shift in South Indian cinema. Hindi and Bhojpuri films often use regressive rhetoric without professional or political consequence – partly because they lack dedicated watchdogs. But the South has set a different precedent. The landmark Justice Hema Committee report in Kerala and the veteran advocates of the Women in Cinema Collective (WCC) anchor this change.

In Hyderabad, the new Voice of Women (VOW) draws inspiration from these models to push the industry to enforce Internal Complaints Committees (ICCs). The situation in Andhra Pradesh and Telangana, however, is different. Unlike high-literacy Kerala or Tamil Nadu, the January 2025 Annual Status of Education Report (ASER) shows foundational learning gaps in the Telugu states. Tollywood is a unique battleground. Fledgling collectives are trying to start structural reforms in a society where critical literacy is still catching up.

To analyse this, The Wire spoke to Jhansi Laxmi, a senior actor and leader of the VOW; Anasuya, an actor and host targeted by online trolling; Chinmayi, a singer and activist who led the MeToo movement in South India; and Madhuri Keta, a businesswoman, author and critic who examines how movie tropes often fuel real-world harassment. 

Deconstructing ‘samaan’ (goods), ‘saraku’ (commodity), and the myth of “good intent”.

Pavan: A specific vocabulary has emerged from this controversy – words like samaan and saraku. Jhansi, you mentioned this is about more than “unparliamentary” words. 

Jhansi: View this as a single incident in a local region, but one that is not the first and certainly not the last. People have abused women’s bodies with misogynistic language for a long time. My issue begins after his “apology” – at the press meet where he built a convenient narrative. He said, “If I hurt you with my comments and those two unparliamentary words, I am sorry for those two, but I stand right in my opinion.”

That is the problem. My issue isn’t just the initial comments; it is the patriarchal narrative he promoted against a woman’s body and her right to expression. He had the audacity to go back on stage, promote his film, and push his ideology. The apology is void.

Chinmayi: I didn’t know what samaan referred to until someone pointed it out. Telugu is not my first language, but in Tamil, they say porul. It means the same thing: porul means object; samaan means object. I question if people even 10 or 20 years ago spoke like this about co-professionals sharing a stage.

Sivaji is 54. He blames Gen Z for everything, but he uses language even kids wouldn’t use in public. He said he was “distressed” by the reaction Nidhhi Agerwal received, but then he said, “Ah, nuvvu itla vasthava… nuvvu illa untava… ani pandaga cheskuntaru” [Oh, you’ll come like this? You’ll look like this? They’ll celebrate]. It is a call to action. He reinforces that men will behave like this, and then concludes, “Yes, all men.”

Anasuya: He staged a press meet to promote a film, but it was hate speech in disguise. It was provocative and intimidated the audience. He knows the pulse of the Telugu audience – how naively they worship cinema figures. I fell for it initially. I feel embarrassed that I tried to explain that I’ve played female leads. I was seeking validation, and I take it back.

When he said, “Ninnevaru emanaru Anasuya garu, nenu heroines ni annanu” [Who said anything to you Anasuya? I spoke about heroines], he was being strategic. He told me, “You don’t have the stature of a heroine, so don’t respond.”

We need to talk about civic sense. Consider an open kitchen. A dish is visible; it’s right there in front of you. Does that give you the right to grab it like an animal because you can’t afford it? No. You respect the boundaries your civic sense dictates. I am not comparing a woman to food, but a woman’s presence in public is not an invitation for a “grab-and-go” mentality. Accessibility is not consent.

Madhuri: It was crass and lacked decorum. It was clearly victim-blaming. Practically, yes, security matters. Samantha........

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