Who Owns the Story?
- Sajeev Varghese
- May 17
- 4 min read

And why storytelling craft—not concept—is the soul of cinematic power.
There’s a question lurking behind every screen credit, every production meeting, every “based on a true story” deal in Bollywood:
Who owns the story?
Is it the person who lived it?
The person who pitched it?
The one who bought the rights?Or the one who shaped it into something unforgettable?
In India’s film industry, this question is often answered in whispers, in credits buried under studio logos, or in shouting matches across editing rooms. But it’s time we brought it front and center.
Because in the cinematic war for relevance, ownership is not just a legal term.
It’s a cultural reckoning.
The Illusion of Ownership
We’ve long been told that stories are sacred in India.
And yet, we’ve also witnessed a creative economy where:
Writers are often ghosted after “ideation” sessions.
Nepotistic powerhouses claim creative authority by default.
And the original spark—the human experience that birthed the tale—gets commodified, diluted, and mass-marketed.
Ownership isn’t just about who told the story. It’s about how the story was told—and why it was worth telling in the first place.
In today’s India, where identity is contested, culture is commercialized, and truth is a battlefield, the question of who owns the story becomes deeply political.
It’s not about ego. It’s about authorship. It’s about agency.
But Let’s Go Deeper.
A story idea isn’t the story.
It’s just the spark.
Anyone can have an idea:
“A girl escapes an arranged marriage to find her passion.”
“A filmmaker exposes corruption in Bollywood.”
“A group of underdogs build a platform to rewrite Indian cinema.”
You’ve seen these ideas before. Maybe even lived them. But only one thing turns that idea into something powerful:
Storytelling Craft.
Structure. Emotion. Character. Pacing. Dialogue. Theme.
And here’s the kicker:
You can’t copyright an idea. You can only copyright its expression.
When the Noise Drowns the Narrative: Rescuing Story from the Scroll
The deeper I go into storytelling, the clearer it becomes: it’s not a formula—it’s a force. Every so-called rule can be bent. Every old idea can feel brand new—when it’s told with lived insight and emotional truth.
Story is the operating system of human meaning.
It’s how we make sense of chaos. How we process change. How we remember who we are… and imagine who we could be.
But today, that system is under siege.
We are suffocating in content—not stories, content. Fast, loud, forgettable noise. Overhyped films without a soul. Recycled tropes wrapped in glitter. Doomscrolls pretending to be depth. Platforms pushing performance over presence. In this barrage of always-on, imagination is not nurtured—it’s numbed. Not because we lack creativity, but because we’ve stopped giving it space to breathe.
They love to say it at media summits with a knowing smile—“Content is king.” The phrase echoes through every panel at FICCI Frames like a divine revelation. But here’s the truth they don’t say out loud: content is not king—story is. And storytelling craft? She’s the queen that makes the kingdom worth ruling. In the Indian film industry, “content” has become a hollow buzzword—used to dignify anything with a runtime and a release date.
But a story without craft is just noise in high definition. Until filmmakers stop chasing virality and start honoring narrative integrity, we’re building palaces with no foundation—lavish, loud, and empty.
Here’s the tragedy: the stories we tell ourselves shape the lives we lead. And if all we’re feeding ourselves are empty frames and shallow edits, our very sense of self starts to hollow out. We lose originality. We lose presence. We forget how to live stories worth telling.
Because to create something that truly moves others, you must first be moved. And that requires something radical in a speed-driven world: slowness, stillness, and self-reflection.
You must live awake.
Feel the silence between scenes.
And listen, deeply, for what only you can say.
Because while the world chases virality—True storytelling waits for the ones who choose to be real.
India’s Blind Spot: The Craft Gap
In Hollywood, the screenwriter is sacred. The showrunner is king. The writer's room is the crucible of originality.
In Bollywood? We often treat the script like an afterthought. Or worse—like a formality.
And this misunderstanding costs us.
It costs us authentic representation.
It costs us international credibility.
It costs us generational trust from audiences who know when they’re being lied to.
“Story” isn’t what you pitch.“Story” is what you craft—with blood, sweat, and redrafts.
Unleashed: A Story About Stories
This is why Unleashed, the first book in The Filmistan Rewrite Generation Series, doesn’t just tell a thriller.

It dramatizes this very debate.
A coded platform that could democratize cinema.
Disruptors who understand the story as power—not a product.
And a corrupt empire terrified of losing its monopoly on meaning.
It’s a fiction rooted in reality.
A thriller born from the trenches of storytelling failure.
And a blueprint for reclaiming our voice—through craft.
So… Who Owns the Story?
Maybe the better question is:
Who earns the right to tell it?
Those who live it?
Those who listen deeply?
Or those who do the work—to shape it, elevate it, and land it like lightning in the hearts of an audience?
In Unleashed, that answer belongs to the storytellers who dared to rewrite the rules.
And in real life, that answer belongs to you.
Because the world doesn’t need more ideas.
It needs more people who know how to tell them right.
💥 Final Frame:
If you're tired of Bollywood’s clichés,
If you’re a filmmaker, writer, or story-driven rebel—And if you’ve ever felt your voice crack in the wind…
Because the story doesn’t just belong to those who take it.
It belongs to those who shape it with care.
And launch it like a revolution.
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