I grew up thinking that a 10-year age gap was not only normal, but ideal in a relationship. Because my parents had one. It was just a number and I thought it shouldn’t come between two people who wanted to build a life together. Maybe that’s why it took me years to realize that we treat this age difference differently depending on the gender of the older partner.
Which Bethlehem Kudumba unit got me thinking?
The recently released Malayalam film Bethlehem Kudumba Unit is creating a buzz across South India and is being described as a feel-good romance by audiences and reviewers. Critics also appreciated the way the film handles the over 13-year age difference between the characters played by Mamitha Baiju and Nivin Pauly, without portraying the relationship as predatory or manipulative.
Mamitha Baiju also stars in the Tamil film Vishwanath and Sons. Interestingly, both films were released just a week apart and revolve around the same romantic premise – an older man and a younger woman. The audience easily accepted both relationships, which I found fascinating.
Director Girish AD narrated The Hollywood Reporter that he limited Mamitha’s character’s age to 22 and Nivin’s to 35 to 50, but did not make him older as it would have felt “creepy”. The age difference was deliberately tailored to the audience’s discomfort threshold – and it worked.
This led me to a simple question: Would these films survive a gender transition? If nothing else changed except gender, would our reactions stay the same?
This led me to a simple question: Would these films survive a gender transition? Just imagine the same setup, the same movie – family, comedy, chemistry, everything. The only change is that the woman is 13 years older. Would it still make it onto the family watchlist? Or would the same age difference suddenly have to be defended? If nothing else changed except gender, would our reactions stay the same?
An age difference does not automatically mean that one person is exploiting the other. What actually happens in the relationship is more important than just assuming a predator and prey dynamic. However, a large age gap can be associated with differences in experience, financial independence and social power, raising real concerns about power imbalances; Harassment, manipulation and coercion can occur in such relationships and these should be raised without hesitation.
Women are allowed to be desired, but are they allowed to desire?
Our society has decided that a woman’s desirability comes with a shelf life: stay young to stay desirable, with women’s youth tied to beauty, desirability, and even labels like “good” wife or “good” mother. Meanwhile, men’s age is not measured by the same logic; Instead, it often comes with status and stability. We also see this common double standard in the cinema. Actress Dia Mirza once pointed out“I find it interesting that I’m facing actors in their 50s, 60s and even 70s – and we’re supposed to be seen on screen as equal romantics.”
Conversely, an older woman falling in love with a younger man is often portrayed as unusual, scandalous, sexualized, or transgressive, rather than simply love. The story ends up telling us everything except her love life. As soon as she is no longer considered young by social standards, she is pushed into supporting roles such as mother, aunt, mentor or carer.
Indian cinema in general seems to have no idea about age-gap couples. In Cheeni Kum, 64-year-old Buddhadev falls in love with 34-year-old Nina – an age difference of 30 years. Still, it remains a conventional romantic comedy, complete with the usual family tensions, and Nina’s decision to be with him is rarely questioned. In Dil Chahta Hai, Sid falls in love with Tara, who is older and divorced. Their relationship takes a tragic turn, especially compared to the other characters who have “happy endings” in the film.
Age is almost invisible in these stories and needs no explanation if the man is older. The same number is harder to miss when the Woman is older.
Lipstick Under My Burkha dared to show an older woman’s longing for a younger man by treating her desire with gentleness. But her family doesn’t treat her the same way. They consider their desire to be a disgrace and a transgression serious enough to warrant punishment and humiliation. I can’t imagine a mainstream film in which a male protagonist is similarly punished for loving a younger woman.
Wake Up Sid features a small age difference, with Ayesha being older than Sid. She initially rejects him, and their later reunion makes one thing clear: maturity and willingness count for more than a number. But it remains more of an exception than an example.
More recently, the Tamil film Hi, starring Nayanthara and Kavin, was released around the same time as Bethlehem Kudumba Unit and Vishwanath and Sons. Nevertheless, the film was met with unease. The real age difference between the actors is only 5-6 years, which is smaller than in the other two films. However, online they were even referred to as “Akka-Thambi” (sister-brother) as Nayanthara was the elder. The director felt compelled to defend the cast while Kavin resisted calling them fake Age gap romancesimply describing it as love. All three films are based on the same idea, but it’s only when the woman is older that the film seems to need a defense.
Cinema and the public easily accept that a younger woman chooses an older man because gender determines who we “allow” choices and whose decisions we accept. Choosing a younger woman also doesn’t rule out the fact that there may be a power imbalance in a relationship with an older man. Nevertheless, we say “her decision” or “she pursued him” and end the conversation there. We only apply this logic one way and question her when she is the older partner.
We see the same double standards off-screen too. When Priyanka Chopra and Nick Jonas married in 2018, she was accused of “caught‘ him. Their partnership was easily reduced to distrust and ridicule. Chopra represents a double disruption to the usual script – she’s older on the one hand and pushing the boundaries of endogamy on the other. Perhaps that’s why “cougar” exists as a derogatory term without a male equivalent. “Silver fox,” on the other hand, is often used to describe a man in the exact same position.
Cinema is a reflection of society, just as society is reflected in cinema. When we as viewers repeatedly see in these stories that men are the romantic leads while women of the same age disappear, it no longer seems like an individual decision, but rather like a pattern.
The family test
As I mentioned earlier, my own parents have the same age difference, with my mother being the younger partner. I have never had anyone question my parents or their relationship because of this. But I’ve seen people question a woman with a younger partner. The age difference hasn’t changed; What has changed is the story people create around it.
A friend of mine once told her family about her relationship with a man 12 years her senior. Her parents’ first reaction was relief, not panic. They thought her choice made sense: she had chosen someone more experienced and more “settled.” Plus, no one asked him why he wanted someone younger. The opposite is never so easily accepted.
One day my cousin started dating a woman older than him. The age difference was almost the same, but the questions changed completely. Nobody cared about whether he was happy. There were only two questions: Why can’t he find someone his age or younger, and why does she want someone younger?
An older woman with a younger man thwarts the expectations on which Indian heterosexual marriages and families are built. While there can be power imbalances in relationships with a large age gap, we often only care about “protecting” the younger partner if he is a man.
In a way, Bethlehem Kudumba Unit made me want a version of this story that doesn’t exist yet: the version where the older lead is a woman and the film still becomes a romantic comedy without having to convince anyone. Until Indian cinema can make this film with the same warmth, “love knows no age” is just a phrase we parrot. We don’t really believe that love has no age. Rather, we have conveniently decided whose age doesn’t count and whose does.
Shabnam K is a law student at Delhi University. Having previously worked in the development sector, her interests lie at the intersection of law and society.
