Tumbbad is a horror film that turns the desire for wealth into a disturbing fable. Its atmosphere is both beautiful and frightening, like an old bedtime story brought to life. Beneath the supernatural imagery is a very human question: when does wanting a better life become an appetite that can never be satisfied?
Hastar and the film’s invented mythology
In the story’s mythology, Hastar is the first child of the Goddess of Plenty. He takes her gold and then reaches for her food, provoking the other gods. His mother protects him inside her womb, on the condition that he will never be worshipped. This is the mythology presented by the film; it should not be read as a factual account of religious belief.
The division between gold and food is important to the story. Hastar’s desire is not satisfied by possessing one source of abundance. He wants the other as well, and that hunger becomes the foundation of the curse.
Vinayak’s growing appetite
Vinayak learns about the hidden treasure through his ailing grandmother. Once he discovers how to take gold from Hastar, he can repay his debts and acquire wealth. But reaching a more comfortable life does not persuade him to stop.
Each return carries danger. The treasure changes his circumstances while leaving his appetite intact. That is what makes his journey unsettling: the more he obtains, the more willing he becomes to risk for another gain. Eventually, that desire exacts its price.
What is enough?
For me, the film distinguishes an increase in possessions from an improvement in the quality of life. Money can provide security and choices, but endlessly comparing our wealth with someone else’s can leave us dissatisfied even when our circumstances improve.
Relationships, self-understanding and generosity offer a different kind of richness. We do not have to reject ambition to ask whether it is serving us. If we have more than we need, sharing can be more meaningful than treating every gain as a reason to chase the next one.
Coming back to the film itself, Tumbbad offers a striking visual experience. Its darkness, setting and sense of dread make the moral question memorable without turning the story into a simple lecture. It stayed with me as a tale about the danger of never deciding what is enough.
