This past weekend, The Sunday Morning Brunch took in ‘Sitaare Zameen Par,’ a 2025 Hindi-language sports comedy drama starring and produced by Aamir Khan. Marketed as a spiritual successor to Khan’s beloved 2007 film ‘Taare Zameen Par,’ this new story follows a suspended basketball coach who must complete community service by helping a team of children with disabilities prepare for a tournament. 

For many of us, ‘Taare Zameen Par’ was one of the first films we watched that meaningfully portrayed a child with a learning disability – and it stayed with us. Watching ‘Sitaare Zameen Par’ not only evoked that same sense of empathy and reflection, but also reminded us how rare and necessary such representation continues to be.

Disability is often invisible in our everyday lives, especially for those who don’t have close relatives or friends with disabilities. Media – particularly film – is one of the few powerful tools through which people are introduced to disability experiences. Without early and consistent exposure, society as a whole struggles to develop empathy, understanding, and inclusive attitudes towards persons with disabilities. 

‘Sitaare Zameen Par,’ with its focus on children on the autism spectrum, offered more than entertainment; it became an eye-opening experience. For many in the audience, it was the first time they truly engaged with the idea that autism is a spectrum, an idea that the film presented with compassion and clarity. 

Need for real representation 

Given how central representation seems – especially to those living with disabilities – Brunch reached out to individuals with lived experiences to hear their thoughts on what it means to see disability reflected on screen.

Anuruddha Hettiarachchige, who is on the autism spectrum, shared his sentiments simply but powerfully, noting: “I love seeing people like me in films. It’s not just about inclusion; it’s about feeling seen and validated.” 

Anuruddha’s mother and primary caregiver, Rohini Ranruwan Widanapathiranage, reflected on her own journey raising a child with autism in a time when awareness was almost nonexistent. “He was born in 1987, and back then, autism or the idea of a spectrum just wasn’t common knowledge,” she explained. 

“With my son, there weren’t any obvious physical signs, so for the first nine years of his life, we didn’t know what he was experiencing. Even the doctors couldn’t tell us. There was so little information and the media never showed this. We didn’t know if this was something other people went through or if it was something unique to our experience. It was an invisible illness, and we didn’t know how to support him.”

She continued: “Once we figured it out, things got better. But in those early years, if a film like ‘Sitaare Zameen Par’ had existed, it would have changed everything. We would have known we weren’t alone.”

Rohini went on to stress how much still needed to be done in Sri Lanka when it came to disability representation. 

“My earliest memory of seeing someone with autism on screen wasn’t even from a Sri Lankan film. It’s time our own cinema takes up that space. In Sri Lanka, there’s still a huge gap in public knowledge, especially because many disabilities are invisible. And those with visible disabilities often aren’t socialised, because they’re kept out of sight. It’s a cycle. 

“However, if more characters with disabilities were shown in the media – especially in popular formats like teledramas that people watch every day – it would go a long way in normalising disability in our society. But the representation must be real, not caricatures,” she said.

Showcasing authentic representation 

Brunch also spoke to Uyanahewage Priyadarshani, who is a person with a disability, who offered a thoughtful perspective on what authentic representation should look like. She highlighted a key aspect of ‘Sitaare Zameen Par’ that stood out to her: the casting of actors with disabilities. 

“When it comes to representation, I think one of the most powerful elements in films like this is when they actually feature actors with disabilities,” she said. “Too often, able-bodied people are cast to play actors of individuals with disabilities, but the lived experience isn’t something you can act – it’s something you have lived. 

“That’s why it matters when someone from the community plays the role. Only a person with disabilities living that life knows how they feel, how they love, and their daily struggles. Oftentimes, we don’t see these more mundane things represented on screen because it is almost always from the lens of an able-bodied person.”

She recalled the 2005 Sri Lankan film ‘Samanala Thatu’ (‘Butterfly Wings’) as a notable example. “That film became very famous and they cast an actual person with disabilities in the lead role. For that kind of character, you can’t just show an able-bodied person who is pretending. There are so many talented persons with disabilities who are ready to perform if given the chance.”

When asked whether she believed there was adequate representation of disability in Sri Lankan media, Priyadarshani was candid: “No, it’s not enough. We might see a character with disabilities once in a while, but it’s usually the same type of role, told from the perspective of able-bodied people. There is so much diversity in disability – how we live, how we love, and how we face social and economic struggles. These stories deserve to be told in full, not just through able-bodied lenses.”

She also addressed a more complex and often overlooked issue: exploitation in the name of representation. “I was recently part of ‘Walk to Equality’ – a fashion show featuring persons with disabilities. Some people commented that we were being used for profit or publicity. But to me, that show was a breakthrough. It was the first time we were given that kind of platform. I was grateful,” she said.

However, she also offered a cautionary note: “It becomes exploitation when people keep using us without giving anything back to the community. If I’m offered a role or a chance to perform, I might even do it for free the first time because the opportunity itself is meaningful. But if you keep asking for our time and talent and never offer compensation or growth, then that’s not representation. That’s exploitation.”

Similarly, Isum Sandul, another person with a disability, said: “This kind of representation is absolutely necessary. It opens up opportunities for people like us and finally gives others a chance to understand the needs and wants of persons with disabilities. I think disability representation is so important because it helps normalise the presence of persons with disabilities within society.”

Responsibilities of creators 

Given that this conversation revolves around representation in film, Brunch also sought a filmmaker’s perspective to understand how they view the importance of disability representation, not just as storytellers, but also in terms of the practical and creative challenges they face. 

Yasodhara Kariyawasam, an emerging Sri Lankan filmmaker, shared her reflections on both the responsibilities and realities of representation from behind the camera.

“If we’re talking exclusively about visual representation – about actors and characters in film – then one of the main issues is casting,” she said. “To cast actors with disabilities, we first need to be writing characters with disabilities. And that’s where the gap starts. There’s a real lack of disability representation at the scriptwriting stage itself.”

Yasodhara emphasised that when such characters were written, the ideal was to cast actors who actually lived with disability. However, she acknowledged the real-world limitations directors might face: “The reality is, not every person with disabilities is an actor. Yes, there are talented people out there, but if you’re casting for a very specific character, you need a pool of trained actors to choose from. 

“Especially in Sri Lanka, acting can be a luxury – not everyone has the time, access, or resources to study it professionally. So we have to admit there is a gap, but that doesn’t mean we don’t start trying. We absolutely must.”

She also voiced concern about how disability was often portrayed in storytelling, noting a troubling trend among writers to use it as a shortcut to evoke sympathy. “There’s something I really dislike when it comes to how characters with disabilities are sometimes used. It’s lazy writing. Writers use disability as a plot device to make the audience feel sad or inspired, but people are more complex than that,” she noted. 

“You don’t need to make a character disabled just to make them sympathetic. Humans are already layered. What we need are well-written, three-dimensional characters who also happen to have disabilities.”

Yasodhara stressed that it was time for filmmakers to go beyond stories centred on pain or triumph and instead explore everyday experiences. 

“Are all persons with disabilities in need of saving or sympathy? Can’t we tell stories that reflect the normalcy of their lives – their friendships, careers, romances, families? Stories that aren’t about overcoming disability, but simply living with it? That’s the shift we need. And it’s our responsibility, as creators, to make that happen.”

Her insights highlight the importance of meaningful, authentic storytelling, where persons with disabilities are not just present on screen, but portrayed as whole individuals with lives as dynamic as anyone else’s.

Representation must evolve

Films have always held a mirror up to society, reflecting our values, struggles, and dreams. But when entire communities are left out of the frame – or worse, reduced to stereotypes – the mirror cracks. Representation of persons with disabilities in film is not just about inclusion for inclusion’s sake; it is about recognising humanity in all its forms. It is about enabling empathy, promoting understanding, and building a more equitable world, one story at a time.

‘Taare Zameen Par’ moved many of us as children, introducing us to the idea that difference is not deficiency. Now, ‘Sitaare Zameen Par’ revisits that theme through a new lens, reminding us how powerful storytelling can be in shaping perceptions. But as the voices we heard have made clear, representation must evolve; it must move beyond sympathy, beyond one-time visibility, and towards authentic, ongoing inclusion.

There is still much work to be done. But with each film that dares to tell these stories with care, nuance, and integrity – with each actor with disabilities given a role, and each filmmaker who chooses to write these lives into existence – we inch closer to a world where everyone can see themselves reflected on screen while gaining a deeper understanding of what it means to be human.