Shubhdeep Singh Sidhu had a special attachment to his Pind or village. So, he added the name of his village to the world of music and this name became a brand. Born in Musa village in Punjab’s Mansa district, the singer and rapper quickly rose to fame across the world, especially among Punjabi immigrants. The recently released BBC documentary The Killing Call, on Moosewala’s meteoric rise to fame and his murder, quotes a friend of his who says that Moosewala “had become fearless” and “he packed 50 years of his life into those five years.”
Britain’s The Guardian newspaper included Musewala among the 50 emerging artists in 2020. In 2021 he released Mousetape. This track created a stir all over the world. It made it to every chart from the Billboard Global 200 to the Canadian Hot 100 and New Zealand Hot Charts. With over 1 billion streams on Spotify, Mousetape became the first Indian album to achieve this milestone. Sidhu was shot dead in 2022 at the age of 28.
Moosewala did not shy away from sharp criticism of political figures, political system and social hypocrisy. His songs often made bold references to police brutality, political corruption and the plight of Punjabi youth and the ravages of unemployment. His favorite subjects were the government’s neglect of farmers, drug addiction and extreme despair among the youth.
He directly raised issues like political corruption and religious and political injustice. In his song 295, he took aim at the laws that stifle dissent and punish it. In this rap, he sang, “If you speak the truth, you will be put in jail under Section 295.” His track SYL, released after his death, mentions the politics of water sharing (disputed Satluj Yamuna Link Canal), political prisoners, farmer crisis. But it was banned.
Moosewala also gave prominence to Sikh and Punjabi identities through his songs. His songs caught the imagination of the youth and they started being seen as a strong regional voice against national unity. He has often been criticized for promoting gun culture and glorifying violence. Many of his songs featured fiery symbols for a loud voice of strength, pride and identity, which particularly energized Sikh youth. In this sense his songs sometimes cross the line between radical identity and subversiveness.
Moosewala was shot dead in broad daylight on May 29, 2022. A day earlier the state government had withdrawn his police security. This matter remained controversial. He was shot more than two dozen times. Canada-based gangster Goldie Brar had claimed responsibility for the murder and claimed that Moosewala was secretly helping the rival Bambiha gang of the Bishnoi-Brar network. But many people believe that Moosewala’s anti-establishment stance became the enemy of his life.
If he had remained alive, he would have turned 32 on June 11, 2025. On this occasion, BBC World Service has released The Killing Call. Her father Balkaur Singh has expressed strong objection to this documentary directed by investigative journalist Ishleen Kaur and produced by Ankur Jain.
Balkaur Singh had filed a petition in Mansa court to stop the release. His argument is that Moosewala’s name and similar story of his life have been used in the documentary without the consent of the family, which may create confusion among the people, as the trial of his son’s murder is still going on. At the time, he described the documentary as “disgraceful” and accused the filmmakers of exploiting a personal tragedy for commercial gain. After the legal appeal, BBC did not do the scheduled screening in Mumbai, but released the film on YouTube.
The film includes a recording of the voice of Goldie Brar, who claimed responsibility for Moosewala’s murder. Despite Balkaur Singh’s objections, The Killing Call takes a detailed investigative look at the circumstances of Moosewala’s murder. It draws attention to the nexus of politics, crime and celebrity personalities in Punjab.
legal dilemmas
Documentaries usually have to maintain a delicate balance between exploring the truth and one’s personal grief. This is not the first time that filmmakers have faced objections from family members of the people shown on screen. The documentary series Making a Murderer (2015–2018) on Netflix faced intense criticism for allegedly distorting evidence and selectively presenting facts, sparking debate over the ethics of nonfiction cinema.
Fictional biopics and historical films are also often criticized for altering or simplifying real events. In the last few years, many major films in Indian cinema have been accused of distorting historical facts, in some cases this is justified, in others it is not. Raees (2017) was criticized for glamorizing a gangster. But gangster Abdul Latif’s son has sued the makers of Raees for Rs 101 crore, claiming the film defamed his late father and damaged the family’s reputation. The Gujarat High Court ruled in favor of Shah Rukh Khan and the producers, stating that a defamation claim cannot be sustained after the death of the person concerned.
Anurag Kashyap’s Black Friday (2004) faced bans and political pressure for its serious depiction of the 1993 Mumbai bomb blasts. In 2005, Mushtaq Tarani, an accused in the 1993 Bombay bomb blasts, filed a petition seeking a stay on the film’s release. Tarani’s contention was that the film would create prejudice in the minds of people against him and other accused persons. The Bombay High Court agreed and initially stayed the release of the film. The film was finally released in 2007.
conceal the truth
Biopics like Azhar (2016) and Sanju (2018) were accused of hiding the bitter truths of the lives of Mohammad Azharuddin and Sanjay Dutt. Historical films like Bajirao Mastani (2015), Padmavat (2018) were accused of distorting events and protests arose in many quarters. In the song ‘Ghoomar’ the makers had to cover Deepika Padukone’s waist digitally. It shows the absurd changes creators have to make to please the self-appointed guardians of culture.
Thackeray (2019) is made like a biopic of Bal Thackeray. Critics say the visuals of the political leader appearing in court, especially in a case involving incitement to violence, are not in keeping with the record. Bala Saheb never formally appeared in any judicial proceedings related to the 1992–93 riots or other matters.
Recently, Vicky Kaushal’s film Chhaava (2025) faced severe criticism from the Shirke family for portraying their ancestors as traitors. Deepak Raje Shirke accused the filmmakers of misrepresenting historical facts. The family threatened to file a Rs 100 crore suit and hold statewide protests if their objection was not addressed. Director Laxman Utekar contacted Bhushan Shirke and apologized. He clarified that there was no clear mention of surnames or villages in the film.
Where to draw the Lakshman Rekha?
The tension between storytelling and historical fact is not new. Robert J., known as the father of documentaries. Flaherty was accused of fabricating scenes in Nanook of the North (1922), one of the first feature-length documentaries ever made. Despite being revolutionary for its time, Nanook’s Inuit life has been somewhat romanticized. Flaherty introduced changes to Inuit traditional activities that did not exist at the time, such as hunting with harpoons instead of guns.
This tension especially arises when documentaries focus on real people, especially true crime stories. These films often highlight injustice or systemic rot. The challenge lies in the balance between recording reality and walking the fine line of morality. While legal concerns like defamation are legitimate, merely hurting sentiments should not be a reason to censor or suppress such film productions.
