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HomeOpinionPoVNo love stories for Bollywood's married heroines. Only guns, revenge and trauma

No love stories for Bollywood’s married heroines. Only guns, revenge and trauma

From Rani Mukerji to Deepika Padukone, wives and mothers get to play cops and spies, but no longer the object of desire in a love story.

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There was a time when a marriage certificate was a death sentence for Bollywood’s leading ladies. It was often even treated like a dirty little secret. But that was a different time. Marriage doesn’t end an actor’s career anymore. It just ends her romance career.

For decades, the Hindi film industry openly punished women for getting married. The assumption was that audiences wouldn’t find a married woman desirable, and definitely not if she is a mother. Today, the industry congratulates itself for being progressive because married actors, even after becoming mothers, are still leading films. But it’s time we look closely at the kind of work they get.

After setting up a home and having a child, Rani Mukerji returned as Shivani Shivaji in the Mardaani franchise, and she has since played a version of the same character. Kareena Kapoor Khan moved into mysteries and thrillers like Talaash (2012), Jaane Jaan (2023), The Buckingham Murders (2023) and more recently, Daayra (2026). Deepika Padukone became an action star in Pathaan (2023), Fighter (2024), and Singham Again (2024). Alia Bhatt also did her fair share of headlining action vehicles like Jigra (2024) and Alpha (2026). Even with the exception of Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani (2023), the pattern remains. Female actors after marriage and motherhood are no longer an object of desire.

These actors continue to get substantial parts but increasingly in genres that emphasise competence, resilience, motherhood, trauma, revenge, or survival rather than romance.

Meanwhile, their male counterparts seem permanently frozen in a romantic time loop. The industry’s imagination stretches endlessly when it comes to male desire. Nobody asks whether a 50-year-old hero can still be the object of affection or if it’s icky that he is romancing a woman old enough to be his daughter. All judgment is reserved for women.

The result is fascinating. Bollywood has evolved just enough to allow married women to remain visible, but not enough to imagine them as romantic leads.


Also Read: Where did Bollywood’s everyday women go? Bring back the messy queens


No love for you. Think of your husband and child

It’s almost as if marriage grants actors access to “serious cinema”. Suddenly they can be detectives, cops, intelligence officers, avengers, spies, and lawyers fighting a system built to work against them. What they cannot be, apparently, is a woman at the centre of a swept-off-the-feet love story.

And that’s strange because romance is arguably the most universal adult experience. Why is a married actress mature enough to carry a film about murder, terrorism, and child trafficking but at the same time too mature to be a love interest?

The industry’s answer seems rooted in a very old discomfort: female desirability has an expiry date, whereas female competency does not. Once a woman marries, Bollywood stops selling her as a fantasy and starts selling her as gravitas.

And can we even blame the machine feeding into the popular notion? The body-shaming inflicted on Katrina Kaif for her post-partum weight tells us everything about how we view married women and mothers. You see comments like “She’s finished” under a post, and it’s just Kaif glowing in her motherhood.

Of course, there are exceptions. Vidya Balan has played a woman with agency, desire and flaws whether in The Dirty Picture (2011), Hamari Adhuri Kahaani (2015), or in Tumhari Sulu (2017). But the thing about exceptions is that they prove the rule. The broader pattern remains that women gain complexity after marriage while simultaneously losing access to romance. What’s ironic is that the industry often frames this shift as “empowerment.”

Look, a female cop. Look, a female spy. Look, a female vigilante. And yes, these are important characters. But empowerment shouldn’t require women to give up softness, flirtation, longing, and desire. As Tapsee Pannu recently noted while promoting her movie Gandhari (2026), Bollywood imagines strong women as intense women. As if vulnerability and romance automatically weaken the character.

Maybe the real feminist milestone won’t be another woman picking up a gun. Maybe it will be a 45-year-old married actor headlining a big-budget romance drama opposite a man her own age (or not), with nobody finding it revolutionary. The problem isn’t that women stopped getting roles after marriage like before. It’s that when a woman becomes a wife and a mother, her love story is over even though the hero’s just getting started.

Views are personal. 

(Edited by Insha Jalil Waziri)

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