His Story of Itihaas: The Film That Exposes What "Some" Want Buried
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- Amita Apte
Some films don’t just entertain—they resonate. They challenge our perceptions and offer a fresh lens through which to view the world. They dare to depart from formulaic storytelling and, rooted in intellectual integrity and deep research, invite the audience on a journey of truth-seeking. ‘His Story of Itihaas’, directed and written by Manpreet Singh Dhami, belongs to this rare category.
This isn’t your typical love story or action blockbuster. Born out of four years of rigorous research and after facing rejection from 70–80 well-known actors, the idea finally reached acclaimed actor Subodh Bhave—who not only accepted the role but breathed life into the character of Neeraj Atri, a popular YouTuber. Bhave’s performance is compelling and layered, doing full justice to the character’s ideological and emotional depth.
In an era where patriotism among youth is often reduced to watching historical war dramas, His Story of Itihaas dares to tread a different path. It follows a professor of science—raised on liberal ideas—as he begins to question the historical narratives found in his daughter's school textbook. What unfolds is not just a personal awakening, but a powerful journey of unmasking long-suppressed truths.
Yet, despite its honesty and relevance, the film faces systematic suppression. Distributors and multiplexes are deliberately sidelining it—screening it in obscure locations and at odd hours. In some places, bookings for His Story of Itihaas are deceitfully switched with completely unrelated films like Final Destination. In Vadodara, screenings were abruptly canceled citing the absence of "senior officials." In many cities, full-house shows were mysteriously taken off the schedule, replaced by other films—while theatre halls reportedly remained empty.
Is this merely a coincidence or a calculated attempt to silence a narrative that challenges the mainstream? This is the question now echoing across social media among those who have managed to watch the film.
If a film like His Story of Itihaas is denied space in our theatres, then are we not stripping the Indian audience of its right to witness historical truth? It’s time for the people to demand that this film gets the respect and space it deserves. The truth should not need a gatekeeper.
The story begins with a mathematics professor who finds disturbing inaccuracies in his daughter’s history textbook. This seemingly innocuous moment triggers an intense quest for truth—one that shakes his worldview and pulls viewers into an investigative journey questioning the very foundation of what we’ve been taught.
What makes the film especially powerful is its dedication to factual accuracy. Credible sources back the events portrayed, and the storytelling remains grounded despite its heavy themes. The film takes an uncompromising look at the ideological dominance of Marxist historians in India and how their bias shaped generations of textbooks and public thought.
Notably, it highlights the intellectual influence of historians like Romila Thapar and Irfan Habib, who openly aligned themselves with Marxist ideology and allegedly manipulated historical narratives to suit their beliefs. Their interpretations, often dismissive or hostile to Hindu traditions, are critically examined through striking visuals and well-researched commentary.
Despite the global acknowledgement of the atrocities committed under Marxist regimes, Indian academia has largely ignored this bloody legacy. Institutions like JNU and AMU became breeding grounds for a particular ideological narrative—one that often omitted uncomfortable truths and promoted a single-sided version of history. His Story of Itihaas boldly confronts this reality.
The film also builds upon the research of K.K. Muhammed, a former regional director of the Archaeological Survey of India, who has openly criticized the suppression of historical truths by ideologically motivated historians. By doing so, the film becomes more than a narrative—it becomes a revelation.
The film doesn't shy away from questioning the so-called secular historiography that has painted Hindu traditions in a negative light while downplaying the brutality of Islamic invaders. These invasions, their mass violence, and cultural destruction are shown in raw detail—stories long buried in the name of communal harmony are finally brought to light.
It also challenges the colonial narratives that linger today. British policies like “divide and rule” continue to cast a long shadow over Indian society, and the film connects these dots with clarity. Misunderstood concepts such as the caste system are addressed too—explaining how it was originally based on merit and action (karma), not birth, and how colonial misinterpretation amplified social divisions.
Subodh Bhave’s portrayal powerfully communicates these subtleties, bringing to life the idea that ancient Indian society had far more nuance and humanitarianism than what modern textbooks suggest. British archival documents, ironically, help validate this perspective—an irony the film does not miss.
In its final act, His Story of Itihaas exposes a larger ecosystem within academia—one that allegedly supports anti-India narratives in exchange for foreign grants, awards, global fellowships, and elite affiliations. This ecosystem, the film suggests, perpetuates a cycle where ideological loyalty is rewarded, while truth is punished.
His Story of Itihaas is not merely a film. It is a bold invitation for every thinking Indian to reassess what they know about their past. It is a call to re-examine historical consciousness, to reject ideological monopolies, and to reclaim cultural identity through truth.
Answering that call is no longer optional—it is a responsibility.
Some films don’t just entertain—they resonate. They challenge our perceptions and offer a fresh lens through which to view the world. They dare to depart from formulaic storytelling and, rooted in intellectual integrity and deep research, invite the audience on a journey of truth-seeking. ‘His Story of Itihaas’, directed and written by Manpreet Singh Dhami, belongs to this rare category.
This isn’t your typical love story or action blockbuster. Born out of four years of rigorous research and after facing rejection from 70–80 well-known actors, the idea finally reached acclaimed actor Subodh Bhave—who not only accepted the role but breathed life into the character of Neeraj Atri, a popular YouTuber. Bhave’s performance is compelling and layered, doing full justice to the character’s ideological and emotional depth.
In an era where patriotism among youth is often reduced to watching historical war dramas, His Story of Itihaas dares to tread a different path. It follows a professor of science—raised on liberal ideas—as he begins to question the historical narratives found in his daughter's school textbook. What unfolds is not just a personal awakening, but a powerful journey of unmasking long-suppressed truths.
Yet, despite its honesty and relevance, the film faces systematic suppression. Distributors and multiplexes are deliberately sidelining it—screening it in obscure locations and at odd hours. In some places, bookings for His Story of Itihaas are deceitfully switched with completely unrelated films like Final Destination. In Vadodara, screenings were abruptly canceled citing the absence of "senior officials." In many cities, full-house shows were mysteriously taken off the schedule, replaced by other films—while theatre halls reportedly remained empty.
Is this merely a coincidence or a calculated attempt to silence a narrative that challenges the mainstream? This is the question now echoing across social media among those who have managed to watch the film.
Even in culturally rich cities like Pune and Thane, the team had to struggle to secure screens. A single screening in Nashik was revoked without explanation. And yet, wherever the film has been shown, viewers have walked out deeply moved—overwhelmed by the film’s courage and clarity.
How do movies like #HisStoryOfItihaas get silenced without an official ban?
— Manoj Shah (@shahmanojk) June 3, 2025
Here’s how the ecosystem works:
•The film gets a token release: a few shows on opening Friday, scheduled at odd hours and distant locations—when hardly anyone can attend.
•By the weekend, when real… pic.twitter.com/HyFnSJvICJ
If a film like His Story of Itihaas is denied space in our theatres, then are we not stripping the Indian audience of its right to witness historical truth? It’s time for the people to demand that this film gets the respect and space it deserves. The truth should not need a gatekeeper.
What Lies Behind the Curtain of History?
The story begins with a mathematics professor who finds disturbing inaccuracies in his daughter’s history textbook. This seemingly innocuous moment triggers an intense quest for truth—one that shakes his worldview and pulls viewers into an investigative journey questioning the very foundation of what we’ve been taught.
What makes the film especially powerful is its dedication to factual accuracy. Credible sources back the events portrayed, and the storytelling remains grounded despite its heavy themes. The film takes an uncompromising look at the ideological dominance of Marxist historians in India and how their bias shaped generations of textbooks and public thought.
Notably, it highlights the intellectual influence of historians like Romila Thapar and Irfan Habib, who openly aligned themselves with Marxist ideology and allegedly manipulated historical narratives to suit their beliefs. Their interpretations, often dismissive or hostile to Hindu traditions, are critically examined through striking visuals and well-researched commentary.
Despite the global acknowledgement of the atrocities committed under Marxist regimes, Indian academia has largely ignored this bloody legacy. Institutions like JNU and AMU became breeding grounds for a particular ideological narrative—one that often omitted uncomfortable truths and promoted a single-sided version of history. His Story of Itihaas boldly confronts this reality.
The film also builds upon the research of K.K. Muhammed, a former regional director of the Archaeological Survey of India, who has openly criticized the suppression of historical truths by ideologically motivated historians. By doing so, the film becomes more than a narrative—it becomes a revelation.
Breaking the Silence on Distorted Narratives
The film doesn't shy away from questioning the so-called secular historiography that has painted Hindu traditions in a negative light while downplaying the brutality of Islamic invaders. These invasions, their mass violence, and cultural destruction are shown in raw detail—stories long buried in the name of communal harmony are finally brought to light.
It also challenges the colonial narratives that linger today. British policies like “divide and rule” continue to cast a long shadow over Indian society, and the film connects these dots with clarity. Misunderstood concepts such as the caste system are addressed too—explaining how it was originally based on merit and action (karma), not birth, and how colonial misinterpretation amplified social divisions.
Subodh Bhave’s portrayal powerfully communicates these subtleties, bringing to life the idea that ancient Indian society had far more nuance and humanitarianism than what modern textbooks suggest. British archival documents, ironically, help validate this perspective—an irony the film does not miss.
In its final act, His Story of Itihaas exposes a larger ecosystem within academia—one that allegedly supports anti-India narratives in exchange for foreign grants, awards, global fellowships, and elite affiliations. This ecosystem, the film suggests, perpetuates a cycle where ideological loyalty is rewarded, while truth is punished.
His Story of Itihaas is not merely a film. It is a bold invitation for every thinking Indian to reassess what they know about their past. It is a call to re-examine historical consciousness, to reject ideological monopolies, and to reclaim cultural identity through truth.
Answering that call is no longer optional—it is a responsibility.