Imagine writing 800 episodes of a hit show… in longhand.
Because you couldn't afford a computer.
And then spending decades chasing accountants who wouldn't pick up your calls.
That's the life Vinod Ranganath knows.
The man who wrote Swabhimaan, Kittie Party, Jassi Jaisi Koi Nahi — and eight films most of you have watched without ever noticing his name in the credits.
He just paused a 33-year writing career to fight one lonely battle.
Royalties for Indian screenwriters.
Years ago, writer-director Vijay Krishna Acharya got a strange message from the UK.
A society had traced Guru (2007) being telecast on German TV.
The amount owed to him? £257.
Tiny. Almost laughable.
But for the first time, someone in the world had said: the writer deserves a slice too.
In India, that idea is still fighting to exist.
The 2012 Copyright Amendment promised writers royalty rights.
But without a registered copyright society, it was just paper.
Enter SRAI — Screenwriters Rights Association of India.
Formed in 2013. Registered as a copyright society only on 30 December 2024.
And suddenly, letters started arriving from around the world 🌍
Royalties for Indian films watched abroad. Some made before Ranganath was even a writer.
SRAI has just ~680 members.
Ranganath estimates 500-600 writers with money literally waiting for them… haven't joined.
One-time fee: ₹6,600.
The hesitation? "How much will I actually get?"
His reply is beautiful:
"It's a bonus for work you've already done. Why are you negotiating a gift?"
SRAI approached JioHotstar in July 2025.
Met Sony in September 2025.
Neither has agreed to negotiate.
The same global companies that pay writers residuals in Hollywood… go silent in Mumbai.
SRAI chair Anjum Rajabali has a sharp name for it:
"Modern-day colonialism."
Just look at music.
IPRS — the society for lyricists and composers — went from ₹45.7 crore in FY18 to ₹564 crore in FY23.
A 12x jump. Because broadcasters simply accepted royalties as the cost of doing business.
SRAI wants the same for stories, screenplays, dialogues.
Box office? Not covered.
But the moment a film hits Netflix, Prime, or a TV channel — the writer gets a cut.
As filmmaker R. Balki, on the SRAI board, puts it:
"For successful films, it's a windfall for everyone concerned. Why shouldn't the writer be part of it?"
Every great scene you remember. Every dialogue you quote. Every twist that made you gasp.
Someone wrote that. Alone. In a room. Often for a single flat fee.
Ranganath isn't asking for charity.
He's asking for the writer's name to finally show up on the bank statement — not just the end credits.
That's all for now!
