But the real blow came from controversy. A petition was filed in the Rajasthan High Court alleging that the song Chinnamma Chilakkamma had hurt the religious sentiments of a particular community. The court issued an arrest warrant for Husain. Forced to apologize, an anguished Husain withdrew the film from theaters just three days after its release, effectively ending its commercial life.
In the pantheon of Indian cinema, 2004 was a year dominated by mainstream blockbusters. But amidst the song-and-dance spectacles, a singular, audacious film emerged—not from a traditional director, but from the canvas of one of India’s greatest modern painters, M.F. Husain. That film was Meenaxi: A Tale of Three Cities . meenaxi
A visual poem rather than a conventional narrative, Meenaxi was a project of immense ambition, artistic risk, and ultimately, profound controversy. Nearly two decades later, it is ripe for rediscovery as a cult classic—a film that dared to dream in colors the mainstream had never seen. At 88 years old, M.F. Husain, already a legendary figure in the art world, decided to direct his second film (after the experimental Gaja Gamini in 2000). He approached cinema not as a storyteller bound by linear logic, but as a painter working with moving images, music, and time. But the real blow came from controversy
Tabu’s chameleon-like performance, A.R. Rahman’s ethereal score, and for the chance to see Indian cinema at its most unapologetically artistic. Forced to apologize, an anguished Husain withdrew the
It remains a tragic what-if—a masterpiece rejected by its own time, scarred by controversy, but shimmering with a beauty that refuses to fade. For those willing to surrender to its rhythm, Meenaxi offers a journey not through three cities, but through the three cities that exist within every artist: the world of the body, the world of faith, and the world of the soul.