Producing nine shorts simultaneously is a logistical nightmare. Akhila Krishna revealed in a BTS documentary that the biggest challenge wasn't budget (the entire anthology was made for under ₹2 crores) but emotional continuity.
“You cannot shoot Hasya (comedy) in the morning and Shoka (sorrow) in the afternoon. The actors get whiplash,” she explained. Instead, Krishna shot all nine films in blocks over 10 months.
Furthermore, the Navarasa theory dictates that Shanta (peace) should be the final Rasa, as it is born from the transcendence of the other eight. For the 2024 Hindi short film finale, Akhila filmed a 3-minute single shot of an old man watching the sea. No dialogue. No music. Just the sound of waves and a subtle smile. It was the most difficult to edit because, as she said, “Peace is boring if you don’t earn it. You have to watch the previous 8 films to feel the relief of the 9th.”
Duration: 10 minutes
Lead: Zoya Hussain
Veera is often mistaken for physical bravery. Krishna’s Rukh (meaning “direction” or “face”) repositions courage as the choice to be vulnerable. Hussain plays a transgender auto driver in Lucknow who, after being assaulted by passengers, must decide whether to file a police report. The entire short unfolds in a single shot outside the police station in the rain. Courage, here, is the slow turning of the ruk—the face—towards the station door. Hussain’s micro-expressions, from terror to resolve, are the entire screenplay. The final step across the threshold is more heroic than any sword fight.
A street food vendor, Munna, organized an impromptu comedy night beneath a flyover to distract himself from a mounting hospital bill. The city’s oddball characters—an ex-IT coder who wrote love letters to his modem, a schoolteacher with a parrot that recited math tables—formed a ragtag audience. Laughter spiraled into rebellion; for a few stolen hours, everyone shared a ridiculous version of themselves. Munna’s punchline—about the absurdity of being adult—landed like a clap of thunder, and the crowd erupted not only in laughter but in palpable relief.
“A masterclass in micro-budget emotional storytelling. Each film feels like a gut punch followed by a hug.” – Film Companion Akhila Krishna 2024 Hindi Navarasa Short Films ...
“Akhila Krishna redefines ‘rasa’ for the Indian woman who has never been allowed to feel fully.” – The Hollywood Reporter India
Awards (selected):
In the cacophony of modern Hindi content—where violence is often masqueraded as 'intensity' and loud melodrama as 'emotion'—Akhila Krishna’s 2024 anthology of Navarasa short films arrives not as entertainment, but as a surgical dissection of the soul. “A masterclass in micro-budget emotional storytelling
We have seen the Navarasa before. Bharata Muni’s Natya Shastra gave us the nine flavors: Love (Shringara), Laughter (Hasya), Sorrow (Karuna), Fury (Raudra), Heroism (Vira), Terror (Bhayanaka), Disgust (Bibhatsa), Wonder (Adbhuta), and Peace (Shanta). Historically, these have been treated as theatrical tools. But Krishna, in her 2024 iteration, does something subversive: She treats them not as performances, but as diagnostics.
Duration: 9 minutes
Lead: Gajraj Rao
Deceptively simple, Khalbali unfolds in a single take inside a crowded Delhi metro coach. Rao plays a retired schoolteacher who, noticing a young woman’s new bridal bangles, begins silently playing “antakshari” with strangers using only facial expressions. The humor arises from shared, wordless mischief. Krishna proves that Hasya need not be slapstick; it can be gentle, infectious joy born from human connection. The short ends with the entire coach laughing without reason—a radical act of communal lightness. “Akhila Krishna redefines ‘rasa’ for the Indian woman