Kajarya (2013)

I first saw the trailer for this movie in a little television between elevators in my apartment building. It was barely playing any sound, but the scenes looked energetic enough for me to be interested. The trailer was dramatic and loud, and a little too preachy for my taste. The subtitle of the movie is “Let the truth prevail”. It was still interesting because it was obvious the theme was relevant to our country, and because of the fact that its cast had Sumeet Vyas (Mikesh from Permanent Roommates). I wanted to see what kind of an actor he was outside of his comedic scenes. The trailer was definitely misleading.


The movie turned out to be quite calm. It is characterised by its documentary-drama like filming technique, which makes it even more powerful because I didn’t know which parts not to believe. The move talks about a sensitive issue, one that our country has struggled with for a long time – female infanticide. Hence, it is a given that the film will be serious and trying very hard to get a point across.

Kajarya was bold with this message, showing the contrast between the journalist Meera and a woman believed to be possessed by Kali, Kajarya. Meera is shown throughout the movie as a multi-dimensional character, with a persistent belief in justice, and yet she reacts with weakness when the justice is questioned. Kajarya, on the other hand, is dealing with harsher chemicals. Her transformation from a person hooked to opium, to someone who is behind bars but drug-free, is intense to notice. Both actresses have done a fine job of portraying their own characters well, but Ridhima Sud as Kajarya herself was extremely convincing. Her story in the film is riveting, and extremely sad.

The story keeps us in the city of Delhi, and also takes us to a remote village in Haryana where the villages participate in a cruel practice with a cosmological belief. The scenes with the villagers, and not the actors, were a few of the best scenes in the film. One that I especially liked was when Meera goes to the women of the village near their water pump, and the women refuse to trust her again. We also see Meera dealing with her life in Delhi – the parties, her boyfriend (played by Sumeet Vyas) and his family, and his job as a junior reporter where she does not believe she is taken seriously enough.

The cruelty associated with female infanticide is generally not a major point of concern for most who hear about it because it has been talked about so often. However, Kajarya does so in an manner that will give you goosebumps. It is difficult to judge which parts of it were accurate and which were not, because some were so shocking, it was difficult to digest. It is still true that 3 millions girls go ‘missing’ in our country. However, some scenes in the film are too dramatic and not vocal enough about the theme for it to have too much lasting impact.

The music of the film has been composed by Richard Horowitz who is an Academy Award nominee. There is a decent cover of “Mohabbat ki jhoothi kahani” in the film which made me hear the song in a very similar light to the original in Mughal-e-Azam. It is suitably placed in the film, and while there is not much else music, this song particular is enough in the narrative as it was being told.

There was some amount of antagonisation of men in the film, and it is difficult for me to tell whether it was an objective narration or a subjective transformation of the truth in order to tell a story. Kajarya’s fate was certain, however, even in that kind of fate, she seems cleaner, purer and dignified in spite of the fact that she did commit the crimes, someone who is too idealistic a character in comparison to a real human being. This is more so done with female characters. While male characters in films are glorified to the point of unrealism, women’s characters are made extremely likable and ideal, as both the genders are perceived as. On the other hand, the men were made to be the villains, even Meera’s boyfriend who is played by Sumeet Vyas. It feels like his character is so antagonised that you are left wondering why he was her boyfriend in the first place; there are no progressions in the movie that seem to denote anything about their relationship other than the fact that he is not a likable character. Meera, on the other hand, is redeemed again and again with some quality that she is not otherwise seen to possess. Whether this is character progress, or a mistake made due to not enough work going into the storyline, is for you to decide.

Certain scenes in the film were too dramatic and sensational, especially some parts that were shot in the village. It becomes difficult to take a documentary-drama seriously when parts of it are weak and unrealistic, especially when it pertains to a serious issue like female infanticide, something that has been discussed in a variety of different ways.

For it’s depiction of a very real issue in our country, Kajarya is a helpful and poignant commentary. However, in terms of filmmaking and in-depth characterisation, it falters slightly, and in spite of this, the movie is definitely worth one watch.



The Lobster (2015)

The Lobster, released in 2015, marked the debut of the Greek filmmaker – Yorgos Lanthimos into English films; he directed, co-wrote and co-produced it. This absurd comedy is dystopian and could be characterised by its continuous lack of emotions portrayed in the film. It is the description of a world where being single is a criminal act – and people are sent to a hotel where they are supposed to find another mate in 45 days, or they would be turned into an animal of their choice. The protagonist David (Colin Farrell) has been left by his wife for another man, and is hence escorted to the hotel to find a suitable partner for himself. He is an aging man, with average looks, and in that sense, he represents a perspective that could be extended to anyone watching the film. He is shown to have little to no self-awareness initially, and that is the feel of the entire film.

The movie is slow-paced but interesting, ominous yet funny at certain points, and reminded me in some ways of Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind (a better movie, in my opinion). Dystopian stories are always interesting to the effect that they portray a deeper sense of fear of society in a way that can only be understood if we focus on the current world we live in. While Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind is deals with a more personal desire, a desire to get rid of all memories that are painful (and the fear that that concept is flawed and painful by itself), The Lobster deals with a more ordinary fear – a fear of being alone. The movie has an absurd plot, and the importance of being a couple is greatly exaggerated in this dystopian movie. And why not? In our current society, a lot of importance is placed on the existence of romantic love and how to find it. This may be in the form of advertisements, films, music and any other media that is consumed by the masses. The industry around Valentine’s day is pegged to be around Rs. 15 billion in India alone, keeping in account the six days leading up to it. Indian films are not exempt from this obsession of happy endings in terms of romantic love. The need to belong to a couple is recreated by advertisements everyday – take the example of Closeup toothpaste advertising. Not only this, an app like Tinder is generating huge amounts of traffic, with close to 800 million swaps in a day and more than 1,00,000 subscribers around the world, and this is just Tinder; there are a variety of other similar apps that people use. The notion of needing to find a romantic interest, in whatever form, is heavy and undeniably strong.

In this scenario, The Lobster does not seem as outlandish an idea. People in the film are supposed to find one matching quality between each other which will then be approved by authorities to be appropriate. Since none of the people in the film (other than David) are given names, I will use the characteristics that we know about them, that eventually become their defining characteristics. The man with the limp hits his face hard against a surface to be able to get frequent nosebleeds so that he could match with another woman who seemingly got nosebleeds for no reason. This characteristic of getting nose bleeds randomly is seen to be an acceptable criteria of match-making in the film. Other such characteristics include heartlessness, short-sightedness, having a limp, and possibly even liking butter cookies. These shallow ways of looking at people becomes the heart of the film, drawing inspiration from the world we actually live in.

In such a world, the conversations between people with the intention of finding a suitable partner are absurd and vexatious in nature. There is no real discussion, and the characters are reduced to being robotic when it comes to dealing with other people. This hostile scenario has also led to the beginning of a group of people who are all single, and live outside of the law, in a jungle. This is the part of the film that was relatively weaker in my opinion, and I yearned to see more of the inside of the hotel and how people behaved there. However, amidst the people who were single, being a couple was forbidden. Any kind of flirting was punishable. David is then thrown into a scenario where not being able to find a couple results in death, and finding a perfect partner for himself is impossible, even after he meets the woman who is short sighted (Rachel Weisz), who had been narrating the story the whole time. Her narration is flaccid and unappealing, completely in harmony with the rest of the film. The way the actors speak, as well, made me feel like they were reading from a script directly without emoting it all, which adds to the feeling of how robotic they had become.

So what is the real fear the movie is trying to portray? Is it the fear of being alone? It seems like the movie’s ultimate discomfort lies in the fact that choosing romance and love has become too automated and shallow, that it is difficult to judge why exactly a partner is required at all. If falling in love and getting married is only so to the purpose of having company while growing old, someone to save you when you are drowning or choking, or even getting raped, love becomes a futile concept. This futility is described in the film in full detail, with love being a process for both the protagonists. Is this futility a symbol of our world today, where the process of finding love or even sex becomes a matter of quick judgment and superficial thinking? If you believe this to be a crucial way in looking at romance and sex, then this movie is a wonderful commentary about what we should be fearing if we keep heading towards this path.


I. D. (2012)

There has been a surge of paid online movie watching services, and with the hard beating down on piracy, they have gained a traction that is highly appreciable. It is nice to know that HotStar provides Game of thrones on a paid basis as the same time as it is telecast in the US, and that the makers of such a show are getting paid a lot of money to maintain the exceedingly amazing production value of the show (that has garnered a lot of popularity in India). Netflix is another welcome addition, albeit the lack of certain films and television shows. This is not to say that I am complaining because it still offers a wide variety of films and shows to watch, once you pay for a decently priced subscription. It brings audiences to the correct films, I feel, just the way it brought this movie in my notice.


I.D. is a movie that was released in 2012, directed by Kamal K. M. with Geetanjali Thapa (who eventually went on to win the National Film Award for Best Film Actress in 2013, unsurprisingly so) as the protagonist. The film starts with a simple yet engaging premise, one that impressed me greatly. A worker comes to Charu’s (Geetanjali Thapa) residences that she shares with her friends, having newly moved to the city of Mumbai, for an odd paint job. Here, he collapses as he is working, and she has to, for lack of choice, take him to the hospital. The rest of the movie just revolves around how she tries to find the identity of this man, whose name is unknown to her – which is rightly addressed in the film, “Aisa kaun puchhta hai?” (Translation: “Who asks such a thing?”).

The movie outline looks simple enough on the Netflix page (and I am trying to make it a point not to IMDb the movie before watching it these days), and has a poor rating. However, the film has a taken a very simple storyline and very subtly shown to us the different sides of Mumbai – the culture of apathy from a particular group of people thriving on drama and mischief, or the culture of concern or indifference by another group when Charu is out looking for the identity of this man – who had no identity proof on him (a point I think the film was trying to make). There is one particular scene that I really thought was tastefully done – when Charu returns home to a party after ensuring the man was safe at the hospital, and the ebbing apathy of her friends and flatmates about the life of a man. The movie makes one think; it was an incident that could happen to anyone of us living on our own, meeting people in a cursory manner that we don’t even bother to know their name. The reaction of the people around Charu, and herself included, make one uncomfortable and thoughtful – what would one have done in such a situation as this? What would you have done? How long would you have taken responsibility for a man you had had nothing to do with, but whose family was probably waiting for him?

The movie drops several different commentaries whilst taking us through the slums of Rafeeq Nagar – about someone seeing the man Charu is looking for probably fall from a train (which would even explain why he collapsed while working at her place), about a shopkeeper responding rudely to Charu showing the man’s photograph around with the explanation that the slum-dwellers felt that media persons had abandoned the story of BMC demolishing hutments in Rafeeq Nagar and were angered due to it, and even a very slight glimpse into the life of transgendered persons in the slum area. This gave the film a feel of documentary-style showcasing of real-life events done with an exquisite amount of a research and a brilliant performance by Geetanjali Thapa. It is obvious why she won the best actress awards at the Los Angeles Film Festival and the Madrid Film Festival for this very movie. At this point, I have to point out the great job she did in the movie, and that I cannot wait to watch Liar’s Dice, for which she won the National Film Award.

The value of life has been very cheap since ages, and this film portrayed that very fact in a very succinct and meaningful manner. The story is simple yet well-executed – with great scenes inside a Mumbai apartment, but also in the murky slums of Bombay. I would definitely recommend this movie to anyone and everyone – whether it is a deep commentary of city-life you are looking for, or just an interesting and intriguing storyline to keep you engaged.

Hospice (The Antlers)

Hospice refers to care that is given to terminally ill patients. This care may refer to physical, mental and psychosocial needs that the patient has developed through the course of the illness. Coming across this album, one can only assume that it has to be yet another sensitive album about death and the sense of loss that drags along with it. The Antlers is one of my favourite bands after listening to this album. The Antlers is an American indie rock band that released their third album Hospice in 2009 as it saw critical acclaim soon after its release. I only came across the album (and the artist) recently. It interested me that it was a concept album, meaning that unlike normal albums, all the songs in the album were not disconnected. The album is a full-weave, each song a request to hear what comes next. There are many interpretations of the album and its autobiographical nature, but I can only write about mine.

Prologue: The introduction to the album struck me as vague. I was advised to listen to the album closely and carefully, which made me feel that the sounds in this short track made me imagine being inside someone’s lungs. I already knew this album was about hospital care, and it was disturbing to imagine the way that I did. I hope other listeners did not go through the same. Or I hope they did.

Kettering: Doing a quick Google search will tell you that ‘kettering’ is not a meaningful word at all. It is, in fact, a cancer centre in a place called Kettering. This is where the true nature of the music begins to faze over oneself. Peter Silberman is a talented vocalist. His voice is calm and generously quiet in this song, as it begins to tell the story. I assume this song is from the perspective of the nurse that works in a hospice facility. The patient (a woman) already seems an abusive and intolerant person, sickened by her proximity to death. I cannot even begin to describe how destructive this song can be if listened to in the right way.

But something kept me standing

By that hospital bed

I should have quit but instead

I took care of you”

Sylvia: This song starts again with a weird sound and calm vocals. The sound was, and this is true for the whole album, extremely disturbing. The patient (who has a name now) is being addressed in the song, and I assume this time it is more personal than just the nurse tending to her. This time, I think it is the husband of the patient, and this makes it even more moving for me because he keeps repeating “Let me do my job…” in the verse of the song. It may as well have been the nurse. The name Sylvia also refers to the poet Sylvia Plath who committed suicide by sticking her head in the oven. This is one of favourite songs on this album. It is vocally an achievement that few vocalists can produce.

“Sylvia, can’t you see what you are doing?

Can’t you see I’m scared to speak

And I hate my voice because it only makes you angry…”

Atrophy: The truth about the song is plain and simple. The patient is the victim, but that has not stopped her from being abusive and paranoid. Death is an experience no one should have to have dragged through life. The husband, who I assume is the protagonist of the song, is torn by his inability to act for his own welfare because of the sense of commitment for his wife. His self-esteem is atrophied. Helplessness is so tenderly captured in this song that it is almost too clear to the listener the quality of life the husband is reduced to. Midway in the song, there is a strange build-up, the ending to which really surprised me. After a continuation of yet other strange sounds and noises, the song ends with lines that have been etched in my mind.

I’ve been repeating your speeches, but the audience just doesn’t follow

Because I’m leaving out words, punctuations, and it sounds pretty hollow.”

Bear: This song stands out in the album as one of the three singles of the album. The most upsetting idea about this song is that it is about abortion. The “bear” being referred to is the unborn child of the couple. It only vaguely fits into the whole theme of the hospice care and the patient’s misery which is why I assume it is about various trials that the couple has to go through and is not chronologically arranged. I have used this word to describe several songs in the album, and this song will not be an exception. It was immensely disturbing to hear him sing,

“We are not scared of making caves, or finding food for him to eat.

We are terrified of one another and terrified of what it means.”

The melody is upbeat and catchy, and if one does not know the lyrics, it is a perfectly happy song. And it must be. I do think it has been written by a younger protagonist, and the naiveté of the boy is clear and evident. This is the point in the album that the album loses its pace, and slows down to just a trickle of melancholy.

Thirteen: Sharon Van Etten is an introspective vocalist and has always been one of favourite female musicians. She is dreamy and surreal, and she contributes that to this song which I assume is from the perspective of the patient. This is the first, and the only, time that we see real vulnerability, the patient’s. She is distressed and emotionally shaken, begging to be saved and disappointed that no one can really help her. The lyrics and the vocal part is too short, but it is so hauntingly beautiful that for really long three minutes, you will forget that she is an abusive spouse and not a loving woman and that she reduced her husband to a commitment he is supposed to support.

Two: As aforementioned, this album is completely open to interpretation. This is the first time that I imagined that probably; the nurse and the husband were, in fact, the same person. If this is true, the album takes a newer form, the nurse met the patient in hospice. He already knew the state of her body when he married her. He did marry her; it is evident from the lyrics of the song. This song gives us a much more in depth understanding of the patient herself and we realize the fact that she is heavily disturbed and has been sick since she was a young kid. Her illness has always been a part of her, has always kept her from being who she was, and this has led to her being exceedingly paranoid. The husband is devastated, and this song is not much different from Atrophy because here, too, the husband is making it very clear that he has stuck by her side even with the state of her mind. It might also not be surprising to learn that the patient also probably has bi-polar disorder, a mental illness that makes it very difficult to stay around. Like Bear, the song has a buoyant melody and the true nature of the song is only revealed in the lyrics. The ending of the song is sudden and distressing, and I assume here that the patient has finally passed away.

Shiva: The song was extremely difficult to understand but after much thought I realized what imagination the lyricist has used in writing it. The patient is dead, but the protagonist is imagining that he is dead, and that his own face is turning into the face of his dead lover. It is reprehensibly disquieting that one can actually feel that way, and the singer has resigned to exhaustion. He gave up too much to be with his lover, and now that she is gone, his helplessness is of a varied kind. I was surprised that Silberman took so long to reach the sorrowful stage of the album, that I misinterpreted the songs several times.

“Well, I was lying down with my feet in the air

Completely unable to move

The bed was misshaped, and awkward and tall

And clearly intended for you.”

Wake: When I listen to this song, all I can see is the protagonist passing his time through the place that the lovers called home. It is hard for him to explain why he never left her, why he stuck with her even though he knew that he could not save her, as her husband or as her caretaker. The relationship has taken toll on his mind, and his weakness is bare in the song. The last few lines of the song are said to himself as he tries to convince himself that he did what he could but that none of it was really his fault. He repeats one line several times and it is sad that the line is, “Don’t let anyone tell you deserve that.”

Epilogue: This is the last song of the album and my favourite from the album. It’s melody is unmistakably beautiful, and a final goodbye to the woman that he loved, the woman who probably destroyed him. Even after her death, he is disturbed that she has buried him with herself and he tries to save her, but all she wants is to be buried in the ground together.

“I’ve woken up, I’m in our bed, but there’s no breathing body there beside me

Someone must have taken you while I was stuck asleep

But I know better as my eyes adjust

You’ve been gone for quite a while now, and I don’t work there in the hospital.”

The album has caused me ample depression and disturbance, as surprising as that was for me. Listening to the whole album was difficult, and I really do think there is some science involved in making it a particularly unsettling album in general. Very few pieces of art have the ability to really unsettle you, and I think that considering how refreshingly amazing this album was, it was worth it.


Bombarded with the same male-centric roles, I have almost given up hope regarding Indian cinema and its selective portrayal of only a section of the society that it attempts to understand. It is not only unfair, but also alienating, since there is no representation of women in cinema. In case there is, there is a certain characteristic to it that makes it “feminine”, and a story of a woman’s struggle and her proving her worthiness by cleaning herself of societal angst. Which is fine, but like the coming of age for movies like “Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara” or the sexual freedom of “Vicky Donor”, certain movies just seem odd with female leads in them. Queen defies this.

Kangana Ranaut queen bollywood movie 2014 First Look poster

Vikas Bahl wrote the script of Queen inspired from women that he knew in Delhi, women whose lives were planned out for them by their parents, and who resigned themselves to these lives. But that doesn’t seem to be what Rani, the protagonist of the film, is made of. She did fall in love with the man she is about to marry, she is not forced into marrying a stranger. It is a choice she makes herself, and when he breaks off this marriage, she is supposed to be held accountable. This is where my love for the movie begins to rise. The film does not portray Rani to be a weak woman who has no say in where her life is headed. She has made a mistake; she is not perfect. Indian audiences need to be able to get used to women who are prone to mistakes, and who make wrong decisions in their lives. Women who take decisions from their own faculty of reason, and not the helpless agreement of her parents. Rani fails in her ability to choose, and the subtle message that came across to me was the fragility of the character of the lead; and so much unlike the usual plot-device women that I am used to seeing on the screen. She needs to be held accountable for choosing a man that was clearly wrong for her, who she chose to marry in spite of his many unacceptable flaws, as we eventually find out.

Rani leaves the comfort of her home, to pursue her dream of visiting Paris on her honeymoon, another decision that she makes just because she wants to. There is no rationale behind this, she takes this decision off her own accord, and it will be a decision she will be held accountable for. The rest is a part of the movie that I am not going to spoil for people who haven’t watched it; but I will advice them to.

The music is wonderful; Amit Trivedi uses the various points of the movie to very elaborate song sequences, and yet at points where you realise the seriousness of the script, it devolves into a very minimalist vocal performance. I have to once again concur to the fact that Amit Trivedi is definitely the next major song-writer for our times, and he has yet a long way to perform. Other than this, the acting is decent, although I do think the accolades that Ranaut has received are slightly overrated; she has done a good job portraying a character that due to her acting abilities, does not seem an unusual choice. The rest of the cast is also above average, with Lisa Haydon’s performance quite weak at certain moments. For me, the best acting performance was given by Rajkummar Rao, quite simply because I truly hated him after watching the movie. He has also proved himself to be a decent actor in the movie “Kai Po Che”. I would personally love to see more of his movies, albeit in a different kind of role.

When this movie was being discussed, I was sure I wanted to review it. This was because it is the kind of movie that I would like to see more of in the coming years. Yes, it was not perfect. It was a funny, dramatic film, but in a way that had some element of ridiculous fantasy involved. But it is definitely a turner in terms of how female characters are viewed. Whether it is Rani and her subtle acceptance of her mistakes, her desire to do what she wanted without regards to the consequence, her travelling with a majority of men and not having romantic feelings of any of them (while also proving herself to be a wonderful friend) or her sexual brazenness at kissing a complete stranger without any idea for future commitments, is something that Indian audiences will come to appreciate after some time. And that is a time that I am looking forward to with great patience.

What men like

I absolutely love coming back to college, and it has been a while since I felt sad while leaving home. I do, however, feel extremely dreadful thinking about the bus journey to college. The constant sleepiness and headache for 4 long hours evoke a sense of dread in me that I cannot seem to get rid of. But the worst part out of all of this is the movie that they play in the tiny television. I generally seat myself in the front seats, because it gets tumble-ful (if that is a word) in the back seats, and have to handle the immense noise that the television makes. I try to drown it out by playing loud music in my earphones, but today, due to bad battery life of my phone and earphones that only play in one ear, I got to see the most amazing movie that Bollywood has released in 2014 – Yaariyan.

I was hoping the bus driver’s friend would play Highway, it was a movie I wanted to see when it was released, but couldn’t. Now, some movies are so bad they are good (like Aap ka Suroor starring Himesh Reshamiya), but this movie was so bad it was quite simply bad. Here is what happens in the movie in a gist. I will not even begin to say how sexist it was, because it will a complete waste of breath.

Lakshya (Himansh Kohli) comes to this magical college, the location of which is completely unknown, where a lot of strange, non-collegy things happen. This may include a girl called Jiya constantly licking lollipops in the most pornographic way possible (I have to say here, the use of double entendre by the director is flawless), nerds identified by full-rim glasses and pigtails, and Australians (all of whom are exceptionally evil and believe in cheating by the mere fact of them being white; this film takes the freedom fight to a completely new level). This movie contains everything, and I am not kidding here. Does it contain a convenient friend that suddenly enters out of nowhere dying while protect the honour of the college, you ask? Check. Does it contain this very college losing because they cannot concentrate on a bike race because of said death, you ask? Check. Does it contain a son not loving his poor, helpless, widow mother enough? Check. Does it contain a guy falling into a high-ass waterfall, jumping out of it, and finishing a race by climbing onto the roof of a college? Check. What does this movie not have?

Also, two minutes of silence for the Australians who have been shown in such poor light, that they might as well forget their chances of redemption in India. They are the most vile, cheating, and ruthless people on the face of the earth. All they want to do is steal horrible songs by some Indian band which got formed out of nowhere and began writing music, because yes, writing music is that easy and doesn’t require any real skill at all. I apologise to Australia, the entire goddamn country, because that is what the film made me want to do.

This movie gives us a very clear idea of what men like once they are in college. This is what the story writer thinks, not me. So this fresh-faced young boy comes to college and finds himself among women of two kinds. One who dresses skimpily, gets drunk, kisses boys and licks lollipops (and conveniently begins to play the electric guitar eventually), and two, the nerdy girl with glasses who wears shabby clothes, does not drink (because sanskar) and does not want to kiss a boy or lick lollipops. That is the full extent of the variety of girls in the film. The boy is torn between choosing what he wants. There is that girl who is so morally loose that all he wants to do is pretend to be drinking out of her cups due to exceedingly tasteless camera angles, and there is the girl who is the perfect girl because she does not drink alcohol, but who is ugly as fuck (by ugly, I mean, glasses and curly hair, nothing else). This Sophie’s choice only has one solution. Makeovers. Make the ugly girl look sexy, and the problem is solved! But the director must have told the wardrobe-handler (or whoever does this kind of a job) to make sure to make her look sexy only in a wet salwaar kameez (because, well, sanskar). But do not, and I repeat, do not make her want to kiss him yet. Make her want to kiss only when he forcefully grabs her in front of the entire college, and then kiss her. Perfect love story!

Let me also please spend a few words to tell you exactly how bad an actor Himansh Kohli is. Very. Extremely. Excessively. Frightfully.

I advise you to go watch The Xpose. At least it will make you laugh. This movie couldn’t even do that well.