In an age when our minds are locked onto screens, judging characters through filtered lenses and headlines, there comes a Malayalam movie like Ronth that gently forces us to pause, reflect, and confront the prejudices we didn’t even know we nursed. More than just a cinematic experience, Ronth is a layered exploration of humanity, told through the seemingly ordinary yet deeply profound journey of two policemen on a routine night patrol. But what begins as another chapter in law enforcement unfolds into a story that quietly dismantles the very foundations of societal judgment.
From the opening frame, where shadows stretch long and reality breathes heavy, the film grips not because of melodrama, but because of its stark honesty. These are not superheroes chasing grandeur, nor villains lurking in disguise. They are just two human beings tasked with holding up fragile threads of order, while battling their own unknowns. As they traverse dimly lit streets and face the unpredictability of the night, we are walked through their inner corridors too – their vulnerabilities, conflicts, and moral dilemmas. Every seemingly mundane slab of duty becomes a mirror reflecting deeper truths. And suddenly, the uniform blurs, revealing the person behind the badge.
Isn’t that what we have long forgotten to do, see the person behind the label?
“I stopped explaining myself when I realized people only understand from their level of perception,” said Jim Carrey once. That perception, sadly, is often shaped not by empathy or understanding, but by prejudice, rumor, or a viral clip. Particularly when it comes to figures of authority, like police officers, we tend to reduce them into caricatures , either corrupt power-mongers or symbols of control. But how often do we sit down and ask: What does a night in his shoes feel like? What toll does it take on someone to witness the darkest corners of humanity and still return home to hold their child?
The same judgment seeps into all spheres of our lives. We consume art, music, performances, achievements — everything through an invisible lens, always calibrated to calculate not only talent, but morality. A music composer moves us to tears with his melodies, yet online chatter compels us to measure his personal character. A sportsperson’s performance, once jaw-dropping, suddenly falls under shadow because of an old controversy. A brilliant actor delivers a performance of a lifetime, and still, the dialogue drifts towards their private choices.
What fragile pedestal are we building, expecting humans to be infallible while hungering for their excellence? A striking metaphor plays out in a memory that surfaced while watching Ronth. Once, in the serene Ashram of Tiruvannamalai, a man known for his misdeeds entered wearing a sparkling white shirt. His presence unsettled many. One devotee, unable to contain his discontent, approached Saint Ramana and questioned how such a man could be allowed into such a sacred space. Ramana simply looked at the man and replied, “See how clean and sparkling his white shirt is.” Not a sermon. Not a judgment. Just a gentle nudge to see and truly see what we often ignore.
That one moment holds within it an ocean of insight. Because Ramana did not deny the man’s past and. he just chose to focus on something else. He chose to highlight the visible cleanliness, as a metaphor perhaps, for the potential of goodness in anyone and a possibility waiting to be noticed, even if buried under layers of mistakes. Isn’t that the grace we often extend to ourselves but rarely offer to others?
May be it’s time to stop mixing the art with the artist unless their actions harm the very humanity their work represents. Maybe it is time to stop expecting our role models to be spotless saints and understand that brilliance and human imperfection can coexist. The real betrayal is not their flaws. It is our hypocrisy. When we admire a music composer for his genius yet cancel him for a personal failing that may have little to do with his art, what are we really doing? When we dismiss the courage or grit of a law enforcer because we carry an ingrained notion and are we being any better than the thing we claim to hate?
As Ronth portrays with haunting realism, life does not present clear heroes or villains. It merely offers choices, decisions, and moments that shape perceptions. And within every uniform, every artist, every person — lives a story, often far more complicated than our simplified summaries. And maybe it is time we start applying this not just to ourselves, but to those we so quickly judge. Maybe the dignity we seek from the world is the same we ought to offer others, regardless of who they are or what the world says they have done.
In the end, goodness is not in perfection. It is in perspective. Perhaps the more important question to ask isn’t about others, but ourselves “What are we choosing to see in people?”.
Sometimes, it’s enough to just notice the sparkling white shirt.
Justice N.Anand Venkatesh Judge Madras High Court
