Piyush Roy
Rashid Bhai is not the conventional serious cinema loving audience that one would expect rooting for an unconventional, talk-heavy, semi-art house, self-reflective film like Dear Zindagi. The limited appeal of the ‘intellectual’ (read ‘classy’) film is indirectly acknowledged by the film’s distributors in their limiting it to a one-film late evening show in many UK multiplexes, where a ‘regular’ Shah Rukh Khan starrer like Chennai Express or Happy New Year would normally get at least three shows a day. Rashid Bhai however, has been diligently turning up for that one screening almost every day through the week-long running of the film. Hailing originally from Bangladesh, Rashid Bhai is a fairly assimilated Scottish citizen, an affable presence in the local hospitality business, a friendly man and a good chef, who is a must presence in most social events with a multi-religious, multi-ethnic or multi-cultural promise in the eclectic Edinburgh calendar. Like as always, on spotting a familiar face in the theatre, he comes up to say hello and offers liberal servings of popcorn that he carries to a screening to share, at times, with a signature pushy South Asian indulgence, that may occasionally get the intensely private, unintentionally worked up. “I am seeing the film for the third time. It’s becoming a habit, as I absolutely love its dialogues. I try to remember as much as I can and make a note of its meaningful conversations. Shah Rukh Khan shares some really good thoughts, very inspiring ideas…” he explains. I couldn’t agree more, my favourite line from the film is “Genius is about knowing when to stop”.
Thankfully after a near fortnight since the film’s release, Rashid Bhai will no longer have to manually note the dialogues of Dear Zindagi. Most of its memorable one-liners have started making their way to the many online portals, blogs and collections of inspiring quotes, including New Year cards with a message.Of course, Rashid Bhai has also been enjoying his every new dekho of the film, like many in the audience coming for a repeat viewing.
Gauri Shinde’s second film, Dear Zindagi, following a promising debut that also wowed, English Vinglish (2012), clearly makes her a filmmaker to watch out for; more so since this time her story hinges on a protagonist that you don’t even feel like liking, at least initially. Shinde also has written the film’s screenplay apart from sharing the credits for its dialogues with Krishna Hariharan and the film’s lyricist, Kausar Munir. That an all-women’s writing team telling the story of a predominantly flawed female protagonist can strike multiple chords of empathetic tug and the need for an on-screen hug in an audience member from another gender, miles away from its narrative milieu in today’s entertainment age of multiple distractions is indeed an achievement worth exploring.
Dear Zindagi has actually been impacting thought processes, if not changing lives. It is making people think about those five most important, non-negotiable presences in their lives. When the film’s protagonist, Kiara instinctively names her maid as one of the most important persons in her life, it surreptitiously acknowledges a welcome truism in our urban existence – the morphing of the house maid from a necessity to that of a confidante. I see that genuine care and friendship shared by my wife and her Lady Friday always! And I admire that mutual admiration and respect shared as a great social movement forward from the perspectives of a generation earlier where maids were only meant to be found fault with. I totally identify with Kiara’s frustration of having to still explain her small town relatives about her unusual creative career pursuits, and that part-time is the new full time. A job doesn’t only mean the one that offers a fixed salary in a 10-to-5, five/six-day-a-week routine, and that being a cinematographer, a writer, a researcher, a content creator or a consultant operating from home too are good paying jobs that also happen to be fairly fulfilling.
The film empowers its viewers to choose and experiment within relationships without feeling guilty. It offers a perspective to every frailty, the good, the bad and the ugly. It asks us to look at our parents also with love, not only respect and that holier than thou high pedestal reverence that offers little connectivity. It reminds us that to err is human, pasts are negotiable, being vulnerable is not weakness, short-cuts need not necessarily be bad, aspiring for a good life is not wrong and visiting a therapist for some mental peace is not something to be shy or guilty of.
In the pressure cooker existence of constant performance that life increasingly is turning out to be, it’s good to sit back, reflect and have a conversation kabhie kabhie on ‘Kahaan se chale the kahaan ke liye, par chalte chalte jahaan pahunch-na tha kya hum wahaan pahunch paaye…? Aur agar nahi bhi pahunche to kya uska gham jaroori hai?’
If that conversation is with a therapist it helps, and if that therapist is one of the most loved, and intelligent superstars of our times, finally playing his age, it becomes tad more believable and inspirational with an engaging dose of unadulterated acting magic.
