These movie characters were adopted and that was their superpower

The limitations of celluloid and commercial storytelling notwithstanding, adoption is a recurring theme in popular cinema and is often handled with aplomb. This excerpt from Child of My Heart: A Comprehensive Guide to Adoption in India (2020, 2024) by Kalyani Sardesai is published with due permission from the author.

By Kalyani Sardesai

I really couldn’t place a finger as to the exact reason why Superman, Tarzan and The Jungle Book – popular kiddie movies all – left me feeling so uneasy. Despite the unspeakably exciting adventures that they embarked on, there was an undertone of loss underlining the protagonists’ lives. Of being separated from their own kind and raised by kindly parents from another world; of being inexplicably different from those around them; of their innate need to belong, and yet ultimately fulfil the true potential of those very ‘different’ genes.

The good news, as I see it now, is that all three – Tarzan, Superman and Mowgli – landed on their feet. But even as a child, I realised their journeys were far from usual. Perhaps their pain contributed to their achievement, as in the case of Superman.

The story goes that Superman is born on the planet Krypton and given the name Kal-El at birth. His birth parents send the baby to Earth in a tiny spaceship moments before Krypton is destroyed in a natural cataclysm. His ship lands in the American countryside. He is found and adopted by farmers Jonathan and Martha Kent, who name him Clark Kent.

To their amazement, Clark develops various superhuman abilities, such as incredible strength and impervious skin. His new parents advise him to use his abilities for the benefit of humanity, and he decides to fight crime. To protect his privacy, he changes into a colourful costume and calls himself ‘Superman’ while on the job.

Slipping with ease as most Indian movie lovers do, between Hollywood and Bollywood, my school-going self couldn’t understand why Indu, DK’s wife from the 1983 blockbuster Masoom, was so unkind to the utterly lovable kid Rahul. His mother had died, and DK had brought him to live with his family.

The larger picture of Rahul being DK’s son from an extramarital affair was lost on my childish mind. I remember asking aai: “So why can’t she (the wife, Indu) be nice to him (Rahul)?”

Aai asked me to concentrate on the popcorn. Not one to give up easily, I persisted: “Is it because she is bad?” Exasperated, aai snapped: “No, dear.” “Is it because Rahul is a bad boy?” “No! It’s not that simple…”

Luckily for Rahul (and me), the movie ended with Indu finally accepting Rahul as her own and I skipped home happily enough. Over the years, I would grow to understand the concept of adoption and appreciate its finer nuances.

Growing up in a home where my parents were ardent fans of old Hindi films, it was but a matter of time before I watched the 1959 Bimal Roy film Sujata. As the story unfolds, Upen and Charu, a Brahmin couple, find themselves saddled with an orphaned ‘untouchable’ girl on their daughter’s birthday.

The husband Upen grows to love the baby and ironically names her Sujata (of pure origin). But the wife Charu is visibly discomfited by her and by the regular reminders that she is an untouchable. Sujata’s heartbreak over her mother’s distance, and the fact that her sister goes to school but she is denied the same, underline the politics of both caste and adoption. In time, a Brahmin boy called Adhir falls in love with Sujata and is determined to wed her, much to Charu’s annoyance.

If Sujata combined caste with adoption, the Bollywood hits Aradhana (1969) and Kabhie Kabhie (1976) dealt with the concept of the unwed mother through the characters of Vandana and Anjali, forced to give up their babies due to social stigma.

In Amar Akbar Anthony (1977), three brothers are separated due to circumstances and given a new lease of life by their adoptive parents despite belonging to different religions. Adoption is often depicted in movies as an act of charity – an oversimplification and inaccuracy to be sure, as activists working in the field of adoption will point out.

But the sense of loss experienced by the main protagonists being orphaned men themselves is believable and dignified. They make up for it by adopting many children. (This is totally not recommended in real life, unless like movie stars Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, you have the means to do justice to each one. Even there, as brought home by the very public and bitter divorce between the two, keeping a huge family together is no cakewalk.)

Like Masoom, later movies like Dil Kya Kare (1999) and Main Hoon Na (2004) have men bringing their illegitimate children home to their wives. The sensitive and loving Jenny in Kal Ho Naa Ho (2003) even brings up her husband’s love child as an ‘adopted’ child, as much to shield the girl from the ultra-conservative grandmother’s wrath as to protect her husband’s secret from his mother.

Dramatic as they are, Hindi films often manage to accurately link the trauma of violence and separation with adoption. In the 2000 film Mission Kashmir, Inayat, a police officer, adopts Altaf, the innocent victim of an encounter between the cops and terrorists. The disturbed paradise of Kashmir is a fitting metaphor for Inayat’s traumatised world.

Similarly, the simmering rage of Amitabh Bachchan’s character, Vijay, can be traced to his adoption by a policeman post the murder of his parents at the hands of Teja in the monster-hit Zanjeer (1973).

The burden of gratitude experienced by adopted children is poignantly depicted through the quiet character of Shalini in Dil Chahta Hai (2001), who agrees to marry a man she clearly does not love for the sake of her foster parents. Fortunately, the parents find out in the nick of time and lecture her on the same.

“The very fact that you couldn’t tell us or talk to us is a defeat of our love,” the foster father lovingly admonishes Shalini, and advises his biological son to accept the breaking of his engagement. “If she’s not happy, how can you be?” he points out with irrefutable logic, prodding Shalini to say yes to her true love, Akash.

In films like Baghban (2003) and Vivaah (2006), the adopted children grow to be more important to the parents than the biological children. In Baghban, the adopted son is the picture of duty, while the biological sons do not have the time of the day for their old parents. While such a portrayal once again burdens the adopted child with superlative expectations, at least it does not add to the negative outlook towards them in a society as feudal as ours.

A classic case of films not mirroring real life, perhaps? Or is it simply a mirror to the complexities of parenting?

Not all depictions of adoption are this layered. Some of them are downright tacky, with the adopted child being portrayed as absurdly docile – think: Manju in Chaalbaaz (1989) and Seeta from Seeta aur Geeta (1972) – and the adoptive relatives as pure evil. The fairy-tale characters of Cinderella and Snow White aren’t a patch on Manju or Seeta for sheer simple-mindedness! There are times you want to shake them up. For better or worse, these two are the most widely recognised adopted characters in Hindi cinema.

The depiction of the adopted son Rahul in Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (2001) appears at first to be rather empowering: he is responsible, conscientious and the heir apparent to his father’s business empire (despite the subsequent birth of a younger, biological son).

But this is only until he marries a bride of his choosing. Suddenly, he finds himself thrown out of his family’s embrace with a single damning sentence. “Today, you have proved beyond doubt that you are not my blood,” says the patriarch to everyone’s horror.

Rahul leaves home with his bride. The movie ends with Rahul being reunited with his parents, thanks to the efforts of the younger son Rohan. The positive message is that children are children, biological or adopted, and families need both to complete them.

Infertility, the usual precursor to adoption, has been sensitively showcased in Vicky Donor (2012) too, albeit with a dash of humour. Even as the sperm donor Vicky impregnates countless women whose husbands are sterile, thereby bestowing upon them the gift of parenthood, he can’t help his own wife, Ashima, who is diagnosed with female infertility. Their choice is adoption. On one level, it is a confusing message; on the other, it reiterates the fact that every child has a right to be.

Baahubali I and Baahubali II, the Telugu magnum opuses of 2015 and 2017 respectively, had as the protagonist, the adopted son of Queen Mother Sivagami Devi. At every turn, the matriarch sides with her adopted son Amarendra Baahubali (also a prince of the ruling house), upholding his strength of character, valour and innate goodness over her own son Bhallaladeva’s right to rule.

As the plot progresses, Bhallaladeva has Baahubali’s throne taken away, and to finally do away with the threat he continues to pose, incriminates him as a traitor in the eyes of the fair-minded Queen Mother. Heartbroken as she is, Sivagami has Baahubali put to death only to realise that he had been innocent after all. Furious at Bhallaladeva, she then upholds Amarendra’s son as the next ruler.

The cinematic drama notwithstanding, the fictional story is rooted in the very real ancient Indian practice of royal families recognising the rights of adopted sons to rule in every sense of the word.

Several adopted movie characters are often seized with a desire to meet their biological parents. In Kabhie Kabhie, Pinky searches out her biological mother and grows to love her. In Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara (2011), Imraan finds his biological father Salman after years of search but has to confront the reality that Salman hardly cares about him.

In a country as rich in mythology and folklore as India, the mythological allusions are a given. In Raajneeti (2010), Bharti has an illegitimate son who is adopted by the driver of the family and named Sooraj. The film is a part adaptation of the Mahabharata, and Sooraj’s character is inspired by Karna, the son of the Sun God Surya.

Similarly, the banishment of the eldest Vivek from Hum Saath Saath Hain (1999) due to his stepmother’s fear that he will overshadow her biological sons is reminiscent of none other than Rama, one of the most prominent avatars of Vishnu, one of the Holy Trinity of Hindu gods.

While the theme of adoption serves different purposes in different films, it does help to take the conversation about adoption forward. What is particularly encouraging is that the adopted children usually find themselves through their struggles and manage to prove that the comeback is often greater than the setback.

Coming back to Superman, an early radio ad describes him thus: “Look… up in the sky!” “It’s a bird!” “It’s a plane!” “It’s Superman!” “Yes, it’s Superman, a strange visitor from another planet who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men. Superman, defender of law and order, champion of equal rights, valiant, courageous fighter against the forces of hate and prejudice who, disguised as Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights a never-ending battle for truth and justice and the American way.”

A classic case of the so-called outsider becoming the ultimate insider. Skim the surface and it’s a message for all seasons and all reasons: Superman is different. Instead of complaining why he is so, he uses his God-given ability to the betterment of the local community. He goes through his ups and downs, but he also finds love, friendship, admiration and success. So yes, Superman was adopted and that was his superpower.

Lead image: Prabhas (as Baahubali) and Ramya Krishnan (as Sivagami Devi) in Baahubali II (2017)