Award-winning documentary filmmaker and photographer, Sonali Devnani, tells vibrant, insightful and often contentious stories through her all-observant lens. She is not simply fearless; rather, she is highly particular, very passionate, and dauntless in her pursuit of stories that expose the very heart and soul of culture and in sharing the nuances of the living human experience.
Her new documentary “The Divine Hustle” is filmed in “India’s spiritual heartlands, where faith fuels not just devotion, but survival. The Divine Hustle follows three performers — nine-year-old Khushi, legless Gopal, and 27-year-old Abhishek — who survive by embodying Hindu gods in crowded temples and streets. As they navigate poverty, performance, and power, the film reveals the business behind belief, and how blind faith feeds both hope and exploitation.”
I sit with Sonali to talk about her new movie and more.
Religion is a topic that ignites passionate debate and divides opinion. What compelled you to dive into this complex world for your documentary, knowing it might stir controversy among viewers?
Born and raised in India faith is deeply woven into our daily life’s , religious rituals performed at every corner where a temple or place of worship exists . To me this Documentary wasn’t about religion it was about people , when I visited these sacred cities time and time again I noticed faith livelihood and dignity are intertwined in ways that are deeply human , a single temple was able to give livelihood to many but these characters transformed into divine performed not as a symbol of religion but to survive .
I knew touching a topic of religion would draw criticism but these stories I encountered were too layered too fragile and too truthful to ignore. I wished to show faith becomes livelihood , devotion becomes performance and and survival becomes art.
You’ve been a regular at the Pushkar fair and the Kumbh Mela over the years, spent numerous hours on the ghats in Benares, witnessing countless rituals. In your eyes, has religion transformed from a deeply personal faith into more of a spectacle or even a business?
There are just so many layers to faith and religion yes I see a spectacle I see a business but yet there is deep rooted faith . Places such as kumbh mela and pushkar fair are pilgrimages that take place annually and they attract millions of people and they get more commercial and that’s when the economic activities pick up pace just because of the large number of people – it is a perfect opportunity to make money for many , with the digital age people have come up with innovative ideas where devotion is used to make a living . The flower sellers , the priests , the boatmen each one occupies their own truth within that ecosystem.
Religious symbols have leapt from temple statues onto clothing racks and accessories, powering a thriving industry. While this trend could uplift communities, it often seems to benefit only a select few. What are your thoughts on this?
It’s true religious imagery has moved far beyond temples and rituals. Today it’s on clothes, jewellery, souvenirs, social media filter it’s become an entire economy. And in theory, this could be a powerful tool for uplifting the very communities who live closest to these traditions.
But the reality I’ve seen on the ground is very different. The people who actually carry these symbols in their daily lives the performers, the street vendors, the craftsmen, the temple workers rarely see the financial benefit of this booming market. The profits often go to bigger players: companies, brands, or middlemen who commercialize devotion without ever engaging with the communities that keep these traditions alive.
For me, the problem isn’t that religious symbols are being used symbols evolve with culture. The issue is who benefits. When someone buys a mass-produced ‘spiritual’ accessory online, the performer in Varanasi or the artisan in Pushkar sees none of that value.
As filmmakers, photographers, or storytellers, our role is to bring attention back to the people behind the image the ones who carry the weight of these symbols, often as their only livelihood. If commercialisation must happenand it willthen the least we can hope for is a system where those at the bottom of the chain aren’t forgotten.
Could you share some memorable behind-the-scenes moments? How long did the journey of making this film last, and what obstacles did you encounter along the way?
Pushkar and Varanasi are places I visit every year , ever since 2018 I noticed little children dressed as gods and involved in the process of glorified begging . It intrigued me , I tried to speak to as many as I could just to understand what lies behind the performance . It was only in 2021 I met one of my characters khushi in Varanasi and in 2022 I met gopal and Abhishek .
The entire process took a little over three yeats filming, returning, building trust, then the long journey of editing, funding, and post-production. What made it challenging was that these were not actors. Their lives didn’t pause for my camera. Some days they didn’t want to shoot. Some days they were struggling to eat. Some days the emotions were too heavy theirs and mine.
There were also practical challenges: shooting in chaotic festival environments, dealing with crowds, sudden rain on the ghats, limited budgets, and navigating the sensitivity of filming people whose livelihood depends on their image.
But the biggest challenge was also the greatest privilege: earning their trust. They didnt just let me film them they let me into their world. That intimacy shaped the film in a way I could never have planned on paper. It became less about documenting and more about honouring their lives.
L -Sonali with Khushi, one of the protagonists of ‘The Divine Hustle, dressed as Shiva.
You often form deep bonds with the people whose stories you bring to life. Could you share some ways your NGO has supported the people you’ve featured long after the cameras stopped rolling?
For me, filmmaking doesn’t end when the camera turns off. When you spend years with someone, watching them navigate survival with so much resilience, it’s impossible not to feel responsible in some way. That’s partly why I started working through my small NGO initiative not to ‘save’ anyone, but to offer support where it genuinely made a difference.
I was able to fundraise an electric handicap vehicle for gopal so he would be independent , I am trying to raise money for Khushi’s education so she can dream of a brighter future . Abhishek’s son also wishes to go to school and we are trying to get aid for his schooling as well. On my most recent trip to the Pushkar Camel fair, we distributed 600kg of vegetables, along with 200 kg of lentils and oil ti around 250 people. Most of the recipients belong to the Bopa tribe who make the fair ground their home for a month while the festivities are on.
Once you enter someone’s life so deeply, you can’t just walk away when the filming ends. My NGO work is simply an extension of the empathy that builds during the storytelling process.
Do the powerful stories you witness ever linger with you, weighing on your heart? How do you safeguard your own well-being, both body and mind, during such emotionally charged shoots?
Absolutely. These stories stay with me long after the camera stops. When you witness people navigating such fragile and intense realities, you absorb a part of their world. And that emotional weight can be very real.
Physically festivals are very challenging . They are crowded , much harder to shoot because of the sheer number of people , but we pace our schedules so the team is well rested and a lot of time before the camera turns on is just spending time with our characters.
Mentally it is taxing on days where you are feeing low and just experiencing their struggles so closely can weigh you down . I do try to process it slowly and believe that telling their stories will make a positive change in their lives – I try to keep the glimmer of hope , depend on close ones who reinstate that my empathy will make a difference .
Ultimately, what grounds me is the belief that we are all connected that humanity is a shared space where one person’s struggle or joy is never isolated. Filming these stories reminds me that kindness, empathy, and showing up for one another matter deeply. Protecting my own well-being allows me to stay present in that humanity, and to continue telling these stories with compassion sincerity and respect.
If filmmaking and photography had not called to you, what other passion do you think might have captured your heart?
Even if filmmaking hadn’t happened, helping people would still have been central to my life. I’ve always been drawn to the human side of things to supporting, guiding, and uplifting those who feel unseen. The camera just became the tool – the intention was always there.
R – Sonai’s first documentary film Addicted Innocence, based on drug addiction in children in Delhi, India, was the winner at the Chicago South Asian Film Festival in in the “Quick-length Documentary Movie” category.
Can you share with us what you’re working on next?
I’m actually taking a pause now – pressing that reset button before I dive deep into the creative world again . There are a few ideas I’m nurturing all rooted in the same themes that move mea resilience, dignity, and the quiet strength in everyday lives.
Right now, I’m doing a lot of research, building connections, and allowing the next film to reveal itself in its own time. What I can say is that it will stay true to my way of working – intimate, human-centered storytelling that gives a voice to those who are often overlooked.
Lastly, how do you take your coffee?
Black. I like to taste things as they are – in coffee, in cinema, and in the people I film.
Sonali Devnani
Sonali Devnani is a photographer and documentary filmmaker whose work focuses on social issues and human resilience. She creates films that inspire change and often fundraises for the communities she documents. Drawn to the intimacy of portraits, Sonali celebrates human connection through her lens, finding beauty and strength in everyday lives.