Revisiting Aparna Sen’s 15 Park Avenue Two Decades Later (A Two-Part Blog Series)
Kanav Narayan Sahgal
Nyaaya, Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy, India
The National Law School of India University (NLSIU), Bengaluru, India

February 2026

In this special two-part series, we revisit Aparna Sen’s 15 Park Avenue two decades later, asking, what lessons the film can teach us about mental health and caregiving, and how its characters might help educate us better on these issues today? The first part focuses on the film’s engagement with societal attitudes towards schizophrenia, stigma and caregiving; while the second part turns inward, reflecting on the author’s own experiences of living with his father, who has a severe mental illness.

Part 1: ‘Seeing’ Schizophrenia

15 Park Avenue and the Dynamics of Care

Editorial Note: This blog contains detailed discussion of plot elements and key narrative developments in the film. Readers should be aware that spoilers are included.

According to the National Mental Health Survey (NMHS) of India 2015–16, conducted by NIMHANS, mental illness constitutes a significant public health concern in the country. The survey estimates that nearly 15% of Indian adults (aged 18 and above) require active intervention for one or more mental health conditions. The lifetime prevalence of mental disorders in India stands at 13.7%, with urban areas showing a substantially higher burden (13.5%) compared to rural regions (6.9%).

Within this broader mental health landscape, schizophrenia and other severe psychological disorders remain particularly significant yet under-discussed. The NMHS reports a lifetime prevalence of 1.4% for schizophrenia and related disorders, among adults aged 18 and above. Although it is numerically less prevalent than other disorders, schizophrenia is associated with long-term disability, intensive caregiving needs, and sustained social stigma.

And yet, despite the enactment of legislation such as the Mental Healthcare Act, 2017, and a series of significant court interventions, the lived realities of persons with mental illnesses  and specifically those with schizophrenia, and their caregivers remain fraught. Most recently, in 2025, the Supreme Court of India reaffirmed mental health as an integral component of the Right to Life under Article 21 of the Constitution of India. Yet, the gap between the promise of the law and lived realities remains unfulfilled for many.

It is in this context that Aparna Sen’s 2005 film 15 Park Avenue demands renewed attention. Sen’s cinema has consistently engaged with bold representations of female disability and sexuality in ways that are way ahead of time—from Sati (1989), which portrays a mute young woman subjected to oppressive ritual practices in nineteenth-century Bengal, to Paromitar Ek Din (House of Memories, 2000), which features a young woman with intellectual disability. 15 Park Avenue (2005) extends this trajectory through its sensitive portrayal of schizophrenia, caregiving, and the gendered dimensions of mental illness in India.

This two-part blog revisits 15 Park Avenue two decades later by returning to some unsettling questions that the film does not resolve (perhaps intentionally). In writing this blog, I ask: what does care look like when a person’s reality diverges radically from that of those around them? Is it justified to subject someone to involuntary institutionalisation in the name of treatment? How should we judge intimate relationships that are shaped by guilt, desire, and obligation rather than choice? And perhaps most provocatively, if a person’s hallucinations are as real to them as the material world is to others, who gets to decide what it means to be “cured”?

At its centre, 15 Park Avenue follows the life of Meethi (Konkona Sen Sharma), a young woman with schizophrenia who longs to be reunited with her husband and children at the address, 15 Park Avenue, Calcutta (now Kolkata). The central tension of the film lies in the fact that neither the marriage, nor the children, nor the address itself actually exist.

Alongside Meethi’s struggles, the film foregrounds the emotional labour of caregiving. Her elder sister Anu (Shabana Azmi) and their mother (Waheeda Rehman) emerge as key figures who negotiate care through a combination of exhaustion, frustration and protectiveness.

Anu, for instance, takes primary responsibility for managing Meethi’s psychiatric care and plays a crucial role in mediating between the psychiatrist's clinical authority and Meethi’s distress by questioning, rather boldly, whether treatment was genuinely helping Anu at all. We also see Anu’s empathy surface during Meethi’s difficult episodes, where she consistently acts as a calming presence by speaking gently to Meethi, maintaining eye contact, and physically comforting her as much as possible. Over time, Anu’s own life trajectory—her relationships, mobility, career goals, and emotional availability—comes to be shaped around Meethi’s needs.

The mother’s caregiving, by contrast, is marked more visibly by anxiety and fear. These are responses that are not uncommon among ageing caregivers. She watches over Meethi closely at home, particularly during periods of instability, and supports her hospitalisation during severe episodes, even though these decisions cause her visible distress. Together, both their actions reflect what is often described as “caregiver burden,” a phenomenon that, in the Indian context, has been linked to negative mental health outcomes for caregivers if not addressed. It is for this reason that the film rightfully refuses to romanticise either of the two characters' caregiving relationships. Instead, the bonds between Meethi, Anu, and their mother are portrayed as being shaped just as much by warmth and humour as they are by fatigue, fear, and misunderstanding.

Joydeep (Rahul Bose), Meethi’s former fiancé, occupies a more ambiguous position in the film. His unresolved guilt towards Meethi’s condition structures her very worldview, in which their marriage never ended. These emotions, however, spill into his present life by unsettling his “real” marriage to Lakshmi (Shefali Shah). Joydeep is portrayed as neither a villain nor a saviour. Instead, he embodies a kind of moral uncertainty that forces viewers to question where the responsibility of partner-caregiving ends, and where self-preservation begins.

A 2003 study conducted by Angermeyer and Matschinger’s in Germany provides a valuable framework for understanding the social dynamics depicted in 15 Park Avenue. Conducted in Spring 2001 with a representative sample of 5,025 German adults, the study examined the impact of labelling on public attitudes towards people with schizophrenia and major depression. The findings revealed that labelling someone as having schizophrenia carried both positive and negative connotations, with negative effects clearly outweighing the positive. Specifically, when members of the public endorsed the stereotype that people with schizophrenia are “dangerous,” this belief, shaped by emotional responses of fear and anxiety, significantly increased their preference for maintaining social distance from individuals with schizophrenia. In contrast, when respondents perceived individuals with schizophrenia as being in need of help, this perception elicited ambivalent emotional responses that influenced preferences for social distance in both positive and negative ways. These insights are also reflected in the film, as Meethi’s initial involuntary commitment and the fear exhibited by her mother both exemplify the consequences of perceived dangerousness. At the same time, Anu’s close and devoted care towards Meethi demonstrates how empathy can mitigate social distance.

Taken as a whole, a range of emotions—be it fear, longing, anger, or confusion—permeate every corner of Meethi’s world. In that regard, Aparna Sen invites us to step inside, to “see” schizophrenia through the eyes of multiple characters—Meethi, her mother, Anu, and Joydeep—and to consider how love, fear, and empathy is negotiated in the face of uncertainty.

The author would like to thank Dr. Shreelata Rao Seshadri for screening this film and reviewing an earlier version of this blog. 

About the Author
Kanav is the Programme and Communications Manager at Nyaaya, the access to justice vertical of the Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy. He is also a visiting faculty member at the National Law School of India University (NLSIU), Bengaluru. His research interests lie at the intersection of sexuality, health, and legal policy. All views are personal.

Email: sahgalkanav@gmail.com

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kanavsahgal/