Death isn’t the career-ender it used to be. In the age of digital ghosts and the algorithmic afterlife, it’s more of a strategic pivot.

Sutapa Sikdar recently took to Instagram to claim that her late husband, the incomparable Irrfan Khan, is "sending best wishes from heaven" for Vishal Bhardwaj’s latest project, O Romeo. It’s a lovely sentiment. It’s poetic. It’s also the kind of high-octane emotional currency that fuels the modern attention economy. We don't just watch movies anymore; we participate in a collective, digitised séance.

The project in question isn't just another Bollywood flick. It’s a "Shot on iPhone" short film, which means we’re firmly in the territory where art meets hardware marketing. Bhardwaj, the man who spent a decade translating Shakespeare into the gritty vernacular of the Indian underworld, is now working for Cupertino. The trade-off is clear. You get the prestige of a master filmmaker, and Apple gets to pretend that your $1,200 glass slab is all you need to become the next auteur.

Never mind the $50,000 worth of DJI gimbals, external monitors, and high-end lighting rigs that are invariably hidden just out of the frame in these "mobile" productions.

Sikdar’s note strikes a chord because Irrfan was the last of the real ones. He didn't have the plastic sheen of the modern influencer-actor. When he was on screen, you felt the dirt under his fingernails. So, when his widow invokes his spirit to bless a tech-integrated short film, it feels heavy. It feels significant. It’s also a reminder that in the streaming era, legacy is a resource to be mined.

Bhardwaj and Irrfan were a formidable duo. Maqbool and Haider weren't just movies; they were cultural shifts. They proved you could take the Bard, drop him into Mumbai or Kashmir, and make it bleed. Now, Bhardwaj is returning to the well with O Romeo, but the context has shifted. We’re no longer in the business of pure cinema. We’re in the business of "content."

The friction here isn't about the quality of the work. Bhardwaj is incapable of making something boring. The friction is in the delivery system. By framing this as a message from the beyond, the project gains a layer of unassailable sanctity. You can’t criticize a film blessed from heaven, can you? It’s the ultimate PR shield.

The tech industry loves this stuff. They want the soul, but they’ll settle for the metadata. Every time a legacy is invoked to push a new format—whether it’s a VR experience or a smartphone short—a little bit of the original magic gets sanded down. We’re obsessed with the "what’s next," but we’re terrified of leaving the "what was" behind. So, we bridge the gap with emotional Instagram posts and "Shot on" credits.

Sikdar’s note mentions that Bhardwaj was Irrfan’s favorite director. That’s probably true. Their chemistry was undeniable. But seeing that relationship used as a promotional beat for a tech-demo masquerading as a short film feels… crunchy. It’s the sound of a very old world being forcibly synced with a very new, very cold one.

We’re living through a weird moment where the dead are more active on social media than the living. Their estates post "behind the scenes" clips, their voices are reconstructed by AI, and their widows provide celestial endorsements for the latest Apple-funded venture. It’s a seamless integration of grief and growth hacking.

Irrfan probably would have laughed at the absurdity of it all. He had a way of looking at the camera that suggested he knew exactly how much of the industry was total nonsense. He was a man who appreciated the craft but seemed wary of the circus. Now, he’s the main attraction in the digital big top, providing the emotional gravity for a project that, on its own, might just be another tech-flex.

Bhardwaj is a genius, and the film will likely be beautiful. The iPhone’s sensor is, indeed, impressive for something that fits in a pocket next to your lint and receipts. But let’s not pretend this is just about art. This is about the ecosystem. This is about ensuring that when you think of Shakespeare, or Irrfan, or the sublime, you also think about your data plan.

If heaven has a good Wi-Fi connection, does Irrfan get a cut of the subscription fees?