Swati Bhattacharya and UNAIDS launch a short film on safe sex awareness for adolescent girls

Every week, around the globe, approximately 4,000 adolescent girls get infected with HIV. One of the biggest contributors to this heartbreaking reality is the lack of proper education about safe sex. And this education doesn't just come from what you read online, the social media pages you follow, or a chapter in your science textbook. It can, and should, come from your own home, even from your own parents.

This is exactly where UNAIDS' powerful short film Ghotul steps in. Produced by Shashank Chaturvedi of Good Morning Films, with creative direction by Swati Bhattacharya, and writing by Shruti Johri, the film is set against the backdrop of a rural home and centres around two women- Maai (mother) and her young daughter.

In the tribal wisdom, elders spoke freely with adolescents about love, desire, and growing bodies, not to shame them, but to guide them,” said Swati Bhattacharya. “Today, when young children often turn to the internet for answers, Ghotul reminds us of the need to bring those honest, caring conversations back into our homes.

Cinema has the power to unearth and reframe indigenous wisdom through a feminist lens. A film like Ghotul invites us to explore traditions that embraced autonomy, consent, and sexual agency long before modern discourse caught up, said Apoorva Bakshi. In doing so, it opens space for more honest, grounded conversations around fertility, desire, and relationships today.

The film opens beautifully as Maai and her daughter lie on the ground, relaxing together at leisure. Maai tells her daughter how much she misses her husband, Chaitu. Her daughter, with the curiosity that only children possess, asks, "Did you choose father, or was it the other way around?"

Maai's response opens up an entire world, "As a true Adivasi, I was the one who chose your father— at a Ghotul."

And so begins a conversation about this mysterious word the daughter has just discovered, one that will teach her the most incredible thing about her tribe's past and how her parents found each other.

Ghotuls were special institutions within the Muri and Gond tribes of India. They served as youth dormitories where unmarried girls and boys lived together, learning about social customs and sexuality in a safe, protected space. It sounds shocking to many today, but it was a beautiful, natural part of these communities.

Through her stories about her Ghotul days and how she navigated her own sexuality, Maai takes both her daughter and us, the audience, on a journey through what society now considers taboo, but was actually a cherished cultural tradition for many.

The film tackles some rarely discussed aspects of teenage sexuality — consent, female desire, and personal choice, all without any judgment or shame. This is what makes it so powerful.

Maai opens up about her partners before finding Chaitu, and why the others didn't work out for her. She explains how the Ghotul was a safe space for her and many other young people like her.

Then comes a difficult story. She tells her daughter about a boy named Lakhmu who was particularly impatient and pushy, insisting on sleeping with girls who hadn't even had their first period, despite the tribe's guidance against it. Because she was young and didn't know better, she gave in to his pressure.

Through this painful memory, Maai honestly describes how unpleasant and unenjoyable the experience was for her. There's no sugar-coating here, just raw, honest truth about consent and pressure.

But when Maai speaks about Chaitu, her whole demeanour changes. She describes him as gentle and kind. Through this story, she talks openly about her own pleasure and how Chaitu made her feel truly desired and excited. It's a conversation that would make many parents uncomfortable today, but here it feels natural and necessary.

After listening to all these stories, the daughter grows worried. She asks her mother, ‘Without a Ghotul in today's world, how will she safely find a true match with her own consent?’

Without missing a beat, Maai tells her that the Ghotul still exists, right in their own house. She takes out a condom from a box, showing her daughter that the Ghotul was simply about creating a safe space to practice safe sex. And a condom can do exactly that. 

The film ends with the mother-daughter duo embracing each other as they drift off to sleep, with the young girl gently holding onto the condom her mother gave her. It's a simple visual, but it carries so much hope. Here is one girl who will no longer be in the dark about her body and sexuality. One child who now understands that her pleasure, her choices, and her safety matter.

This honest conversation between mother and daughter is something we rarely see. Society has put so much shame around female pleasure and desire that we've forgotten something crucial and basic. A woman's pleasure, her body, and her consent are just as important as any man's.

Ghotul doesn't just advocate for safe sex practices. It goes further, it advocates for and empowers women and their right to pleasure. In a world where 4,000 girls get infected with HIV every week and 21 million young girls become pregnant each year, this kind of honest, shame-free education isn't just important, it's essential.

The film reminds us that sometimes the most progressive ideas aren't new at all. They're ancient wisdom we've simply forgotten how to embrace.