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The ‘Tere Ishq Mein’ Dispute: Lessons that will define the Next Decade of IP rights in Film Industry

  • Isheta T Batra, Kanika Goswamy
  • Jan 27
  • 14 min read

When a promotional tagline becomes the subject of an ₹84 crore lawsuit, something deeper is at play. Eros International's January 2026 legal action against Aanand L. Rai and Colour Yellow Productions over Tere Ishq Mein appears, on the surface, to be about intellectual property enforcement: Did the film's marketing materials infringe on the 2013 blockbuster Raanjhanaa by using the tagline "From the World of Raanjhanaa"? But peel back the layers, and this case tells a more complex story about Indian cinema's evolution. It is about what happens when relationship-based filmmaking meets corporate IP management; when creative partnerships that produced successful films face the reality of franchise economics; when ambiguous contracts written in a different era become battlegrounds in today's institutional investment environment.​


The dispute raises questions every stakeholder in the Indian entertainment industry should be asking: How do you balance a director's creative identity with a production house's investment protection? What happens when a co-producer relationship dissolves? How should OTT platforms conduct IP due diligence? And most critically, what contractual provisions prevent marketing disputes from escalating into multi-year, multi-venue legal warfare?


This is not just litigation. It is a case study in how Bollywood's informal, trust-based production model is being replaced by sophisticated IP frameworks that will define the industry's next decade. This case matters not because of who wins or loses, but because it exposes the structural gaps in how the Indian film industry allocates IP rights, structures co-productions, and resolves creative disputes.


The Legitimate Core of Eros's Position


Eros's fundamental assertion deserves serious examination: someone invested substantial capital in producing and distributing Raanjhanaa in 2013, bearing financial risk that entitled them to specific IP rights. That film generated ₹100 crore worldwide at the box office and has continued to produce revenue through streaming, television rights, and now AI-enhanced re-releases over 13 years. IP rights exist precisely to protect such investments from unauthorized exploitation by others, including former business partners.​


The marketing materials that triggered this litigation were not subtle. The July 2025 teaser for Tere Ishq Mein carried the explicit tagline "From the World of Raanjhanaa" alongside visual and musical references to the 2013 film. This was not accidental creative similarity that audiences might independently notice. It was deliberate commercial positioning designed to associate the new film with an established property. Passing off doctrine exists specifically to prevent such unauthorized goodwill exploitation, regardless of whether the parties have prior business relationships.​


Eros's character rights claims, while legally complex, are not frivolous and explicit marketing claiming a connection to the earlier film, the cumulative effect deserves legal scrutiny rather than dismissal.


The Business Reality of Film Financing


Critics who characterize Eros's stance as corporate overreach must contend with commercial realities. Production companies that finance films negotiate IP rights precisely because those rights constitute the primary asset they acquire in exchange for capital risk. If directors and production partners can later invoke those same properties to market unrelated films without authorization or compensation, the economic model of film financing fundamentally breaks down.


The evolving landscape of Indian film financing has shifted dramatically toward institutional investment and private equity participation. When sophisticated financial players invest ₹40-50 crore in productions expecting measurable returns, ambiguous IP ownership becomes commercially unacceptable. The ₹84 crore quantum may seem inflated, but damages calculations in IP litigation routinely reflect not just actual harm but deterrent value and licensing fees that should have been negotiated but were not.​


The Equally Legitimate Counter-Position


Colour Yellow Productions' defense rests on a different but equally credible foundation: Aanand L. Rai co-produced Raanjhanaa, contributed creative vision as director and writer, and never assigned away every conceivable right to reference his own creative work. Directors are not work-for-hire employees in Bollywood's co-production model. They are creative partners whose artistic identity becomes inseparable from the films they make.


The factual distinction between the two films undermines Eros's character infringement claims. Raanjhanaa tells the story of Kundan, a Hindu boy obsessed with Muslim girl Zoya in Varanasi, set against communal violence and political activism. Tere Ishq Mein follows Shankar Gurukkal, an Air Force pilot, and Mukti, a military psychologist, navigating their past relationship through flashbacks in military settings across India. These are not variations on the same story. They are fundamentally different narratives that happen to share a director and lead actor.​


If sharing a director, actor, and character archetype constitutes infringement, then Martin Scorsese could not make multiple films with Robert De Niro playing morally compromised protagonists, and Christopher Nolan could not explore time-manipulation themes across multiple Warner Bros. and independent productions. Auteur directors develop signature styles, recurring collaborators, and thematic preoccupations that manifest across their filmography. That is creative continuity, not IP theft.


This industry usually finds itself at the crossroads of creative continuity and IP theft because curtailment of a director or writer’s vision for a story tends to take away from art and culture. While art and culture find themselves deeply embedded in IP for the sake of legal protection, to nullify artistic ventures purely from a commercial and legal point of view would lead to stagnation of the industry. It is a widely accepted fact that a familiar plot could be recited from varying perspectives. The Kabir Singh could be recited as The Girlfriend, and one could argue that both perspectives hold cinematic weight.


The Co-Production Complication


The co-production relationship fundamentally alters the legal calculus. When Eros frames itself as “sole financier” bearing “full financial risk” for Raanjhanaa, that characterization conflicts with the established co-production arrangement where Colour Yellow Productions and Eros International are both credited as production companies. Given Colour Yellow’s participation as co-producer (whether contributing development costs, production resources, or backend financing), IP allocation should reflect that partnership rather than complete transfer to one party.


Standard co-production agreements allocate specific rights to each party based on their contributions. Distribution rights typically flow to the financing entity. Creative control provisions protect the director. Sequel and character rights may be allocated to either party or require mutual consent for exploitation. Without seeing the actual 2013 agreements, assertions about who holds what rights remain speculative. But the co-production structure itself suggests more complex IP allocation than Eros's "exclusive owner of all IP rights" framing acknowledges.


The 2020 Zee Entertainment Enterprises Ltd v. Ameya Vinod Khopkar (De Dhakka 2) judgment established that sequel rights do not automatically transfer even when copyright is assigned. They require explicit contractual enumeration. The Bombay High Court held that assignment deeds transfer rights only to what they explicitly enumerate, refusing to grant injunctions against sequels where the original assignment deed transferred "negative rights" but did not specifically include sequel or prequel rights. If Eros's agreements with Colour Yellow contain standard "all rights" language without specifically listing sequel rights, character rights, and derivative work rights, their legal position weakens considerably under binding precedent.


The Marketing Miscalculation Both Parties Made


The "spiritual sequel" positioning represents a calculated business risk by Colour Yellow that has backfired spectacularly. The promotional benefit of linking Tere Ishq Mein to Raanjhanaa offered marketing efficiency. It immediately contextualized the new film within Aanand L. Rai's acclaimed body of work. But that efficiency came with legal exposure that should have been assessed and either accepted as calculated risk or mitigated through clearance protocols.


Yet Eros's response reveals its own strategic miscalculation. After issuing a cease and desist in July 2025, reports indicate Colour Yellow modified promotional materials, removing certain Raanjhanaa references before the November 2025 theatrical release. The infringing marketing ceased. At that point, Eros faced a choice: accept the corrective action as sufficient remedy, or escalate to comprehensive litigation seeking ₹84 crore in damages.​


The litigation path transforms a marketing compliance issue into multi-year legal warfare involving multiple defendants across corporate and IP venues. The costs (legal fees, management attention, reputational impact, and relationship damage across an interconnected industry) will likely exceed any recoverable damages even if Eros prevails. Unless the strategic objective extends beyond this specific dispute to broader deterrence or leverage in parallel corporate conflicts, the litigation represents questionable commercial judgment.


How Hollywood Handles Spiritual Sequels: Lessons from Warner Bros. and Universal


The "spiritual sequel" concept occupies different legal territory in mature entertainment markets, offering instructive precedents for the Indian film industry. Hollywood's approach to character rights and derivative works has evolved through decades of litigation that Bollywood is only beginning to navigate.


The landmark 2014 case Klinger v. Conan Doyle Estate established a critical principle that directly contradicts Eros's comprehensive character rights claims. The Seventh Circuit ruled that characters from public domain stories remain in the public domain, while only incremental character developments from later copyrighted works retain protection. The court held that "characters and story elements first articulated in public domain works are free for public use".


Translated to the Raanjhanaa context: even if Eros owns comprehensive rights to the 2013 film, that does not automatically grant protection to generic character archetypes like "loyal friend confidant" (Murari) or "lovestruck protagonist" (Kundan). The court must identify which specific character expressions are sufficiently distinctive to warrant protection beyond unprotectable ideas. What restricts the courts in India is the context in which the Indian cinema functions. The archetypes for characters all across the board are grounded in a change in audience perception. For eg, the once glamorized “overly positive female lead” is now frowned upon, and the demand for stronger female-centric movies has increased. Capturing such changes could be tricky since it could lead to excessive involvement of the judiciary in this industry, and could lead to overlaps in creative visions, thus leading to more suits being filed. 


The Strategic Timeline


The timeline is revealing. In July 2025, Eros AI-altered Raanjhanaa with a modified ending and re-released it without consulting Aanand L Rai. Rai objected publicly, asserting moral rights violations. Eros responded by asserting absolute ownership and claiming Rai waived moral rights contractually. Then in January 2026, Eros filed the ₹84 crore Tere Ishq Mein IP lawsuit.​

Both narratives fit this sequence. From Eros's perspective: we own Raanjhanaa comprehensively, we can modify and re-release it as we see fit, and when Rai complained publicly then used our property to market his new film, enforcement became necessary. From Colour Yellow's perspective: Eros unilaterally altered our jointly-created film without consultation, then retaliated with weaponized litigation when we objected, using the Tere Ishq Mein marketing as pretext for broader corporate warfare.


Which interpretation is accurate? Likely both contain elements of truth. Business relationships deteriorate through accumulated grievances where each party views their actions as justified responses to the other's prior violations.


The OTT Liability Wildcard: Netflix's Exposure


Netflix's inclusion as a defendant introduces complications that extend far beyond this specific dispute, potentially reshaping OTT content acquisition practices across India.


Netflix occupies ambiguous legal territory as a "publisher" of content under the Information Technology (Intermediary Guidelines and Digital Media Ethics Code) Rules, 2021. Unlike pure intermediaries (hosting platforms with no editorial control), OTT platforms like Netflix exercise curatorial functions. They select, license, and promote specific content. This editorial role potentially undermines the Section 79 safe harbor protection that shields intermediaries from liability for third-party content.


Netflix acquired exclusive streaming rights, presumably conducting due diligence on IP clearances before acquisition. Eros's claim suggests Netflix's due diligence failed to identify IP issues that should have been apparent from marketing materials explicitly invoking Raanjhanaa.​


Standard OTT acquisition agreements include extensive warranty and indemnity provisions where content providers (here, Colour Yellow/T-Series) warrant that they hold all necessary rights and indemnify platforms against IP claims. In theory, Netflix should be protected by indemnification.


The Tere Ishq Mein teaser's "From the World of Raanjhanaa" tagline was not a subtle IP issue requiring specialized legal analysis. It was explicit reference to a third-party property in promotional materials. Standard IP clearance protocols should have triggered:​


  • Chain of Title Verification: Requesting documentary evidence that Colour Yellow held rights to invoke Raanjhanaa in marketing materials

  • Marketing Materials Approval Rights: Requiring pre-approval of all promotional content invoking third-party properties

  • Enhanced Indemnity for Known Issues: If Colour Yellow disclosed that Raanjhanaa marketing posed potential IP risks, Netflix should have demanded enhanced indemnity coverage

  • Title Search and Trademark Clearance: Running comprehensive searches for "Raanjhanaa" trademark registrations and identifying Eros as rights holder


The Contractual Ambiguity Problem


The core issue is not whether IP rights matter (they obviously do) but whether the 2013 agreements clearly allocated the specific rights now in dispute. Three scenarios explain the current litigation:


Scenario One: Explicit Comprehensive Assignment.

The 2013 agreements explicitly assigned all sequel rights, character rights, trademark rights, and derivative work rights to Eros with no retained creative control provisions for Colour Yellow. In this scenario, Colour Yellow's decision to market Tere Ishq Mein using Raanjhanaa references represents either a catastrophic legal judgment or deliberate contractual breach gambling that Eros would not enforce.


Scenario Two: Ambiguous or Silent Agreements.

The 2013 agreements contain standard "all rights" language without explicitly enumerating sequel, character, or derivative work rights. Both parties interpret ambiguous provisions favorably to their interests. Colour Yellow believes co-producer status and creative contribution preserve certain rights. Eros believes a comprehensive copyright assignment includes all derivative rights. This scenario creates genuine legal uncertainty requiring judicial interpretation.


Scenario Three: Defined but Disputed Rights.

The agreements allocate specific rights but contain provisions both parties now interpret differently based on implementation disputes. Perhaps sequel rights require "mutual consent" that each party claims the other violated, or character rights are defined ambiguously enough that both positions have textual support.


Scenario Two appears most probable given that sophisticated production companies with competent legal counsel are litigating these issues. If the contracts were unambiguous, settlement would occur rapidly based on clear textual analysis.


Actionable Frameworks: Six-Point IP Protection Protocol for Co-Productions

For production houses, distribution companies, and content creators, this dispute offers cautionary lessons that translate into specific contractual protections:


  • Explicit Enumeration Clause

The De Dhakka 2 precedent established that sequel rights require explicit contractual enumeration. Standard "all rights" language is legally insufficient. Post-De Dhakka compliant language should specifically list:

  • Sequel rights, including rights to produce sequels, prequels, and midquels using any characters, settings, or story elements

  • Character rights to specifically named characters with descriptions

  • Spin-off rights to create derivative works featuring characters or settings

  • Remake rights in all languages and territories

  • Adaptation rights to all media including theatrical, streaming, television, gaming, and formats not yet developed

  • Merchandise and commercial exploitation rights

  • Rights to all promotional and marketing materials

  • Moral rights waivers under Section 57 of the Copyright Act, 1957, with specified limitations

  • Rights to modify, alter, edit, and create AI-generated or technologically enhanced versions


  • Character Rights Schedule

Attach a detailed schedule identifying specifically which character elements parties consider protectable versus generic. This schedule forces parties to identify specifically which character elements they consider protectable versus generic, creating evidentiary record for future disputes. The schedule should list each character name, portraying actor, distinctive traits claimed as protectable expression, and explicit rights allocation. This addresses the exact ambiguity at issue in the Raanjhanaa dispute where Eros claims character rights to Kundan and Murari but the extent of those rights remains undefined.


  • Marketing Materials Clearance Protocol

All promotional materials that reference, invoke, or create association with any third-party intellectual property (including prior works by director or talent collaborators) must receive written approval from rights holders before publication. This directly addresses the Tere Ishq Mein teaser issue where the "From the World of Raanjhanaa" tagline created litigation. The protocol should specify approval timeframes, define what constitutes "reference" versus permissible creative discussion, and establish liquidated damages for unauthorized use.


  • Dispute Resolution Tiered Mechanism

Structure agreements to force early resolution before litigation costs become prohibitive:

  • Level 1 (Days 1-15): Good faith negotiation between designated executives with settlement authority

  • Level 2 (Days 16-45): Mandatory mediation before retired High Court judge specializing in IP

  • Level 3 (Day 46+): Binding arbitration before sole arbitrator with entertainment industry expertise

Indian IP disputes are increasingly being resolved through arbitration as courts recognize the arbitrability of infringement and passing off actions. This structure provides alternatives to multi-year High Court litigation.​


  • Filmmaker Retention Clause for Auteur Directors

Balance production company IP protection with the director's legitimate interest in career continuity and creative identity. Directors should retain limited rights to:

  • Reference their directorial work in professional biography, portfolio, and creative pitches

  • Employ similar directorial styles, thematic preoccupations, and aesthetic choices in future works

  • Collaborate with the same talent in future unrelated productions

But explicitly waive the right to market future works as sequels, spiritual successors, or thematically connected to the film without producer's prior written consent.


Expert Perspectives: What Industry Veterans Should Consider


The implications crystallize several strategic considerations for industry stakeholders:


For Production Companies: If you are financing a film and expecting returns, investing in specialized entertainment IP counsel to draft clear assignment deeds is insurance, not expense. Production houses must specifically enumerate every conceivable derivative right or accept that courts will interpret ambiguity against comprehensive assignment. Investment protection requires vigilant enforcement.


For Directors and Creative Talent: Your creative identity has commercial value. Negotiate to retain it. Aanand L. Rai's dilemma reflects directors failing to anticipate that their signature styles and recurring collaborators would become disputed IP. Directors should negotiate retention clauses preserving their right to employ consistent aesthetics, work with preferred talent, and reference their filmography, while acknowledging they cannot market new works as sequels without rights holder approval.​


Get a pre-production clearance. If you have even the slightest of inkling that there is an overlap of IPs, involve legal forces to conduct due-diligence and enable you to obtain a pre-production clearance if necessary.  Such clearances go a long way in the grand scheme of things. Courts are inclined to take such clearances as legal truths that would automatically work in your favor.


Document everything. If Colour Yellow contributed development costs, creative materials, or early-stage financing to Raanjhanaa, but those contributions are not clearly documented in the co-production agreement, courts may disregard them. Creative partners must maintain detailed records of all contributions that justify retained IP rights.


For OTT Platforms: Due diligence on IP clearances should represent 0.5-1% of acquisition value. The diligence cost is negligible compared to litigation exposure and brand damage from hosting disputed content.


For Emerging Filmmakers: Treat your first co-production agreement as more important than your script. Emerging directors often accept unfavorable IP terms to secure financing, assuming success will provide leverage for better deals later. But if your first film succeeds, those unfavorable terms determine whether you control your creative identity for your entire career. Aanand L. Rai's current predicament likely traces to IP assignments made when Raanjhanaa was greenlit, when his negotiation leverage was far weaker than today.


Accept terms that allow for mutual decision-making for future collaborations. Emerging directors’ acceptance of unfavorable IP terms is strongly rooted in immediate project deadlines. Know that your future projects can be toppled if your IP rights are not secured. Push for mutually beneficial clauses in cases you believe that clauses solely in your favor would receive major pushback.  


Join industry associations offering legal resources. Organizations like the Indian Film & Television Directors' Association should provide template agreements and subsidized legal review for emerging members. The standardization of clear IP allocation benefits the entire industry by reducing litigation.


What Courts Will Actually Examine in the Dispute


When the Bombay High Court evaluates this dispute, technical legal doctrines will matter less than specific factual findings:


  • Contract Interpretation: Do the 2013 agreements between Eros and Colour Yellow explicitly assign sequel, character, and trademark rights to Eros? If explicit assignment exists, Eros's position strengthens regardless of co-production status. If ambiguous or silent, the De Dhakka precedent suggests such rights were not transferred.


  • Actual Confusion Evidence: In passing off claims, did consumers actually confuse Tere Ishq Meinas Eros-authorized or endorsed? Marketing materials claimed connection, but did that create marketplace confusion about source or sponsorship? Did the general public flock to cinemas because of this alleged connection, thereby driving up sales? Surveys, social media analysis, and audience testimony become dispositive evidence.​


  • Character Reproduction Analysis: Does Shankar Gurukkal in Tere Ishq Mein reproduce sufficient protectable expression from Kundan in Raanjhanaa to constitute infringement, or are the similarities limited to unprotectable character archetypes? Does Murari's appearance reproduce protectable elements beyond generic "friend confidant" archetype?


  • Commercial Harm Quantification: Can Eros demonstrate ₹84 crore in actual damages (diverted audiences, lost licensing fees, brand dilution) caused by the marketing materials? Or does the quantum represent punitive damages unsupported by evidence?​


  • Remedial Adequacy: Did Colour Yellow's modification of marketing materials after receiving the cease and desist provide sufficient remedy, making monetary damages appropriate only for the July-November 2025 period?​


A factor that plays heavily in this dispute is the recognition that many character archetypes commonly employed in Indian cinema are neither novel nor exclusive, but form part of a shared, transnational cinematic vocabulary with roots in Hollywood, Korean, Japanese, Thai, and other global film traditions. International copyright jurisprudence has consistently treated such archetypes as unprotectable ideas rather than proprietary expression.


However, uncertainty arises not from the utilisation of archetypes per se, but from the increasing tendency to frame new works through explicit or implicit references to existing films or characters, but particularly by invoking notions of continuity, legacy, or “spiritual succession” without clear licensing. Such practices risk creating legal ambiguity around association, endorsement, or derivation.


If this ambiguity is left to breed, it may lead to over-cautious contractual and marketing constraints in cross-border collaborations, potentially discouraging international partners not because archetypal storytelling is impermissible, but because unclear boundaries between inspiration and association elevate litigation and reputational risk.


The answers to these fact-intensive questions will determine outcomes, not abstract legal principles about IP rights in general.


Way Forward


The Eros-Tere Ishq Mein litigation ultimately reflects Bollywood’s uncomfortable transition from relationship-based collaborative filmmaking to corporate IP asset management. Both parties likely have legitimate grievances based on their reasonable interpretations of ambiguous agreements created in a different commercial environment. Both parties have made strategic miscalculations that have escalated containable disputes into expensive multi-venue warfare. And both parties will emerge from this litigation with damaged industry relationships and legal costs that likely exceed any recovered damages, regardless of which party prevails on technical legal grounds.


For industry stakeholders, the lesson isn’t which party is right, it’s that spending resources on clear contractual drafting costs far less than litigating ambiguous provisions later. The Bombay High Court will eventually determine who holds what rights to Raanjhanaa and whether Tere Ishq Mein’s marketing infringed those rights. But the industry would benefit more from treating this dispute as a cautionary tale about partnership structuring than as precedent about IP doctrine.

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