Ever been told that "Indian women don't kiss"? Well, a screening committee of the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC) reportedly made that claim while slamming Nagesh Kukunoor's Hyderabad Blues. The offending scene-a fleeting communion of the leading pair's lips-was passed only four months later by a tribunal, and the film given an A (Adults Only) certificate. That was in 1997. In the 21st century, it seems desi maidens do smooch after all ... they just don't linger over it. Kukunoor's latest release, Bollywood Calling, has been given a U (Universal) certificate. Sure, it meant sacrificing about 15-20 seconds of the film, but at least he only had to shorten-not delete-a kissing scene, and beep out the words "freakin'" and "breasts", though "tits" was inexplicably allowed. "It's hilarious," chuckles co-producer Elahe Hiptoola, "because ironically, now everyone assumes that the word being beeped out is f***in' and not freakin'."

INDIAN ROULETTE: Ghar Main Ho Sali ... (top) has been okayed by a panel that raised eyebrows at Hyderabad Blues' name; a kiss had to be shortened in Bollywood Calling (below)

Urf Professor is the story of a scholarly hitman. The film, produced by the Delhi-based Digital Talkies (DT), was refused a censor certificate last year reportedly because of its foul language. Ditto for another DT production, Divya Drishti, reportedly because of the liberal sprinkling of profanities and the depiction of a homosexual relationship between two married men. "Our censors are 15-30 years behind the times," laments Ankur Tewari, executive producer of Urf Professor. "They should have a contemporary outlook and the wisdom to judge whether a film maker is trying to tell an honest story, or using sex and violence simply to attract audiences." DT has re-submitted both films to the CBFC after voluntarily cutting out several minutes. But so what if they can't be screened in theatres? In recent weeks, the yet-to-be-cleared cut versions of both have been telecast by Zee Cinema.

Debutant director Anurag Kashyap is a very tired man. The scriptwriter of Ram Gopal Varma's acclaimed Satya, Kashyap suffered the ignominy of having his crime saga Paanch banned by the CBFC in 2001. Reasons given: it shows only negative characters, glorifies crime, shows the modus operandi of a crime, and so on. Kashyap re-submitted the film after voluntarily excising nine minutes. He has now finally got a clearance on condition that, among other things, he further beeps out every instance of the word ch******. "In the milieu that the film is set, what do they expect?" he asks bitterly. "They even objected to the use of grass in the film, but in Abhay, Kamal Haasan is shown using Ecstasy with Manisha Koirala and breaking into a hallucinatory song and dance about it."

Of all the potboilers churned out by Indian studios, this is perhaps the least logical. For years, filmmakers have decried the country's outdated censorship laws and the lack of uniformity in the decisions of the CBFC, which is governed by The Cinematograph Act, 1952. "If our censors had their way, we'd have to sanitise all our films, ignore street idiom and the hierarchy of idioms that come with social strata and educational level," says director Shyam Benegal. Many filmmakers believe that Kashyap has been victimised because he is a newcomer, though of course established names have often not been spared either. Shekhar Kapur's Bandit Queen and Elizabeth are landmark cases in point. While some sections of the film industry would be satisfied if the constant inconsistencies are done away with, others advocate a US-style system where films are given ratings, but directors are not asked to make cuts.

After all these years, they would be surprised to hear an echo in the establishment. CBFC Chairperson Vijay Anand-maker of classics such as Guide-is currently working on the possibility of a Cinematograph Act, 2002, which outlines just such a system. He also wants to ensure that the board is not reconstituted with every change in government; and that some basic training is imparted to members. Yes, he insists, Information & Broadcasting Minister Sushma Swaraj is aware of his fledgling plans. Conservative sections of the CBFC are reportedly opposing a ratings-only policy, but Anand is travelling to the board's nine centres to win regional officers to his point of view.

Convincing politicians will be quite a task too. BJP MP Shatrughan Sinha, a vocal votary of censorship despite his film background, says wryly, "I know the film fraternity. If they are given the licence, films that have shifted from being black-and-white to colour will take on shades of blue." But that's just the point, director Govind Nihalani shoots back, "Why are we so afraid of the Chudail ka Mausam kind of film? They are being made anyway, even now. The muck initially generated in a liberal system won't last when film makers realise it doesn't find favour with the masses."

Still from debutant director Anurag Kashyap's Paanch: Long road to clearance

Anand is obviously flirting with controversy. But a new act has been a long time in coming. In the present set-up, films are initially viewed by an Examining Committee. In case of a dispute, the producer can argue the matter with the committee which remains a bunch of nameless faces, or appeal to a Revising Committee. Then comes the Appellate Tribunal. Even those willing to work within the existing framework are flummoxed by the CBFC's arbitrariness. Kukunoor, for instance, was initially asked to change the name Hyderabad Blues because the board felt the title suggested a blue film. Yet, a production with a graphic name like Ghar Main Ho Sali To Pura Sal Diwali (crudely translated, If You've Got A Sister-In-Law at Home Then It's Party Time All Year Round)-currently being shown in Agra and Saharanpur-gets passed with an A certificate.

Filmmakers also lament the practice of asking for cuts even in films awarded an A certificate. Equally upsetting for them are the contradictions in interpretation. So sex often gets the scissor in English films but suggestive Hindi film songs are cleared. "By and large, frontal and back nudity of a woman is not allowed, but in the case of a man, while a full frontal is forbidden, the back is permissible. Why?" asks Paresh Manjrekar, sales and marketing manager of 20th Century Fox (India). In fact, representatives of Hollywood studios in India complain that overseas products are dealt a far heavier hand than their local counterparts. "Look at Shakti Kapoor yelling out 'bastard' repeatedly, or walking around with his naada (drawstring) hanging suggestively between his legs. Look at the Jaan lewa song from Moksh where the camera zeroes in on the woman's breasts. How come that's not seen as vulgar but when a white man does something straight it's not okay?" asks Vikramjit Roy, manager (operations), Columbia Tristar Films of India. Worse, the red tape that goes with importing a film to India almost guarantees a 1-2 month delay between the US and India releases, throwing the field open to pirates.

But perhaps the most curious fossil in the rules is the application form these companies must fill out for certification of an imported film. Point 11 reads, "Has the (film) ... been produced by or in collaboration with South African or Rhodesian nationals ...?" The reference to South Africa is the residue of the country's apartheid-ridden days. As for Rhodesia ... hasn't anyone told these people the world has changed?