Anything that was a reference to reality was to be removed
In the space of a single weekend in early July 2026, an Indian streaming platform briefly carried and then silently erased a film about a man who was killed for bearing witness to state violence — a disappearance that mirrors, with uncomfortable precision, the story the film set out to tell. Satluj, starring Diljit Dosanjh and depicting the abduction and murder of human rights investigator Jaswant Singh Khalra, was removed from ZEE5 on government orders after just forty-eight hours, following nearly three years of certification battles that had already blocked its theatrical release. The episode places India at a familiar crossroads: between the impulse to document difficult history and the power of the state to determine which histories may be seen.
- A film three years in the making and blocked from cinemas by 127 proposed cuts finally reached audiences through a streaming loophole — only to be pulled within 48 hours on government orders that were never publicly explained.
- The subject of the film — a human rights investigator who documented extrajudicial killings and was himself abducted and murdered by police — makes the silence around its removal feel less like bureaucracy and more like a pattern.
- Director Honey Trehan had fought the film board in the Bombay High Court, withdrawn his petition, accepted some changes, and still received no certification; the streaming release was an act of creative desperation, not triumph.
- Diljit Dosanjh, speaking live on social media after the takedown, said he had expected it — just not on a Sunday evening, before government offices had even reopened.
- ZEE5 has offered no timeline for the film's return, and the episode reveals that streaming platforms, though less regulated than cinemas, remain fully exposed to state takedown orders — closing the last door the filmmakers had found open.
A film about a murdered human rights activist disappeared from an Indian streaming platform after forty-eight hours, in a removal that felt less like a regulatory action and more like a repetition of the story it was trying to tell.
Satluj, starring Diljit Dosanjh, went live on ZEE5 on a Friday in early July. By Sunday evening it was gone, with a statement citing unspecified "current developments." The film's producer later confirmed the removal came on government orders. No official explanation has been offered.
The film follows the arc of Jaswant Singh Khalra, a human rights investigator who documented enforced disappearances and extrajudicial killings during Punjab's separatist insurgency in the 1980s and early 1990s. Khalra discovered that many victims had been secretly cremated without their families' knowledge. In 1995, he was abducted and murdered. Several Punjab police officers were eventually convicted for his killing.
What preceded the removal was itself a years-long ordeal. Completed in 2022 under the title Punjab '95, the film never reached a cinema. India's Central Board of Film Certification raised objections that grew from twenty-one proposed cuts to one hundred twenty-seven. Director Honey Trehan said the board wanted to erase "anything that was a reference to reality" — including the name Khalra, scenes of police violence, and factual claims in the film. The filmmakers fought in the Bombay High Court, then withdrew their petition hoping compromise would unlock certification. It didn't.
In a final gamble, the producers released the film directly on ZEE5 under a new title, exploiting the fact that streaming platforms in India are not required to obtain film board certification. On release day, Trehan announced the film had gone up without any cuts. For a brief moment, the siege seemed over.
Dosanjh, speaking on social media after the takedown, said he had expected it — just not on a Sunday evening. He noted that the filmmakers had kept promotion deliberately quiet, fearing the film would be blocked before it could reach anyone. He expressed quiet gratitude that audiences had managed to see it at all. The Hollywood Reporter had called it one of the finest Indian films of the year.
The film now exists in legal limbo, unavailable in India with no timeline for return. The episode exposes a structural gap: streaming platforms face fewer regulatory hurdles than cinemas, but remain subject to takedown orders under Indian law. A story about a man killed for documenting state violence has become, in its own telling, another chapter in that same history.
A film about a murdered human rights activist vanished from an Indian streaming platform after forty-eight hours, reigniting a years-long battle over what stories India's government will allow its citizens to see.
Satluj, starring popular singer-actor Diljit Dosanjh, went live on ZEE5 on a Friday in early July. By Sunday evening, it was gone—pulled from the platform with a terse statement that the film would remain unavailable in India "until further notice" due to "current developments" that ZEE5 declined to specify. The film's producer later told the Indian Express that the removal came on government orders. The government itself has offered no public explanation.
The film's subject is Jaswant Singh Khalra, a human rights investigator who documented allegations of enforced disappearances and extrajudicial killings during Punjab's separatist insurgency in the 1980s and early 1990s—one of the bloodiest chapters in modern Indian history. Khalra discovered that many victims had been secretly cremated without their families' knowledge. In 1995, he himself disappeared. He was later found to have been abducted and murdered. Several Punjab police officers were eventually convicted for his killing. The film follows an activist doing this same work, tracing the arc of Khalra's investigation and his fate.
What makes this removal striking is not just its speed but the journey that preceded it. Satluj was completed in 2022. It never reached a cinema. For nearly three years, it languished in a dispute with India's Central Board of Film Certification, the government body that must approve films for theatrical release. The board's objections began at twenty-one proposed cuts and eventually swelled to one hundred twenty-seven. Director Honey Trehan told Scroll in 2025 that the board wanted to remove "anything that was a reference to reality." The demands included a new title, the deletion of references to Khalra himself, edits to scenes depicting police violence, and challenges to factual claims in the film. The board warned that the film could trigger law-and-order problems in Punjab. The filmmakers fought the demands in the Bombay High Court, then withdrew their petition, hoping that accepting some changes would unlock certification. It didn't. The list kept growing.
In desperation, the producers announced last week that they would bypass cinema altogether and release the film directly on ZEE5 under a new title—Satluj instead of Punjab '95. This was a calculated gamble. Streaming platforms in India are not required to obtain certification from the film board; they operate under different rules, the Information Technology Rules of 2021, which mandate age ratings and grievance mechanisms but are less restrictive than cinema law. On the day of release, Trehan announced that the film had gone up "without any cuts or compromises," in the form the filmmakers had originally intended. For a brief moment, it seemed the long siege had ended.
Dosanjh addressed the removal in a live social media video, his tone one of resignation mixed with relief. He had expected the film to be taken down, he said, but not so quickly. He thought it might happen Monday morning when government offices reopened. Instead it came Sunday evening. He acknowledged that the filmmakers had kept promotion minimal precisely because they feared the film would never be released at all. "If we had promoted it, the film would definitely not have been released at all," he said. Yet he expressed gratitude that audiences had finally been able to watch it after years of delays. The Hollywood Reporter had called it "one of the finest Indian films of the year."
Now the film exists in a strange limbo. It is not officially available anywhere in India. ZEE5 says it hopes to bring it back soon but has set no timeline. Trehan told the Indian Express he was at a loss. The removal exposes a gap in India's regulatory architecture: streaming platforms face fewer hurdles than cinemas, but they remain subject to takedown orders under Indian law. A film can slip through one door only to be pulled back through another. What began as a story about a murdered activist investigating state violence has become, in its own way, another chapter in that same story—a demonstration of how difficult it remains in India to speak about certain truths, even now, even in the age of streaming.
Citas Notables
If we had promoted it, the film would definitely not have been released at all.— Diljit Dosanjh, actor
Anything that was a reference to reality was to be removed.— Honey Trehan, director, describing the censorship board's demands
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did it take four years for this film to reach any audience at all?
The film board kept asking for cuts—eventually one hundred twenty-seven of them. The filmmakers fought in court, then gave up, hoping compromise would help. It didn't. So they tried a different route: streaming instead of cinema, where the rules are supposed to be lighter. For forty-eight hours, it worked.
But the government still found it.
Yes. Streaming platforms don't need film board approval, but they're still subject to takedown orders under Indian law. It's a loophole that isn't really a loophole. The platform pulled it without explanation, citing government orders.
What was the board actually afraid of?
The director said they wanted to remove "anything that was a reference to reality." The film is about a real activist who investigated real killings. It depicts police violence. It names names. That's what they objected to.
Did the actor know this would happen?
Dosanjh said he expected it eventually, just not so fast. He thought they'd have until Monday. The speed suggests someone was watching very closely.
Is the film lost now?
Not lost. It exists. People saw it in those two days. But officially, in India, it's gone. The platform says it hopes to bring it back, but there's no timeline. It's a kind of erasure that isn't quite erasure.
What does this tell us about India's approach to its own history?
That certain stories about state violence remain dangerous to tell, even decades later. Even when the people involved are dead and some officers have been convicted. The story itself is still treated as a threat.