Nafraton mein mohabatton ko na bhoolna… Trust the eternal romantic Imtiaz Ali to give us yet another tale of love and trust him to transform a love story set around Partition into a requiem for peace. Of course, we have seen a number of cross-border love stories laced with the message of harmony. So when the narrative begins with a Sikh patriarch, Ishar Grewal (the brilliant and exceptional Naseeruddin Shah), rushing to the Wagah border in Amritsar, you think you know where the story is headed.
We see love blossoming in the flashback with Aarti Bajaj’s editing cutting past and present. In the first half, the key players fall in place. In Sargodha of pre-Partition Punjab, Vedang Raina (impressive) emerges as a young Naseer besotted by Zia (the beautiful Sharvari), who is equally charmed by her Keenu’s sincerity. Their love has that old world charm and earnestness writ all over it. The threat of Partition casts its ominous shadow, only Keenu thinks it will make no difference to their relationship, for, isn’t one free to choose where one can stay?
Cut to present. We see Diljit Dosanjh playing Ishar’s grandson, Nirvair, a failed comic. He returns from the UK to meet his dying grandfather and it seems only he can make sense of what the old man is yearning for.
If you too thought that Diljit has a cameo, let it be stated that his part is as central to the story as any other. He not only ignites the screen but balances out what could have been a grim narrative. Of course, you might be a tad irritated when he gives us gyan on how Cyril Radcliffe arrived at the arbitrary line, tearing apart the nation and Punjab into two parts in five weeks. Especially, since Diljit proffers this wisdom in comic fashion.
Imtiaz does not shy away from depicting the horrors of Partition. One particular scene involving the family matriarch (Dolly Ahluwalia Tewari, stoic yet tragic) pierces your heart. Though you’ve seen similar scenes in many a film and the one in Govid Nihalani’s ‘Tamas’ is forever etched, here it is no less impactful. You feel the lump in your throat rising and hereafter it stays exactly there and eyes turn moist more than once, especially in the climax which Naseer’s genius elevates into a revelatory work of art.
If Imtiaz builds up the arc and falters a bit in the first half, he takes you into a deep cesspool of emotions post-interval. Nothing is what meets the eye. No character remains unidimensional. Even the uncaring son in Rajat Kapoor endears himself to you. Why Ishar is perceived as heartless comes alive in a flashback: “We are refugees, we have no time to mourn.”
Family bickering, ramblings of Naseer’s character — all appear organic. ‘Dhurandhar’ actor Danish Pandor, though vile as Ayub, also has reasons to hate. No community is maligned, none glorified. Being a migrant means not belonging… period. And uff, the dialogue, ‘Pyar milta nahi pyar hamare andar hota hai…’
A commitment-phobic relationship between Diljit’s Nirvair and Banita Sandhu’s Kaveri brings to fore yet another preoccupation of Imtiaz. But, it’s not just this contrast between the everlasting love of yesteryear with the fluctuating modern-day variant which is the biggest strength of the film. It’s something more sublime. As Diljit quizzes his grand uncle, “Why aren’t you telling us what happened during Partition?”, his answer is: “You will not understand.” How many of us can truly relate to the nostalgia that the pre-Partition generation has for its homeland even though they left the place under a dark cloud of hate and violence. That is the real key to the film.
The love for one’s roots overrides all negative emotions. ‘Main Vaapas Aaunga’ — the point is not whether the restless dying man will meet his beloved or not. Rather, in a hate-filled world, only Imtiaz can remind us that love returns again and again.
If you loved ‘Dhurandhar’, watch the other end of the spectrum. It’s not about giving a clean chit to Pakistan, only the story by Imtiaz and Nayanika Mahtani underlines the trauma a refugee carries in his heart and often passes it on. The post-credit song, ‘Kya Kamaal Hai’, is what Imtiaz actually cares to say. Music by AR Rahman does not give you a love song you can hum forever. Irshad Kamil’s lyrics in ‘Vo Nahin’ are top notch.
This is Imtiaz’s love letter to mohabbat, not in the shape of just one person or one love story, but the kind which keeps us all together and will eventually save humanity. It is a must-watch, especially for the young, as it is history but is also contemporary. And that is Imtiaz’s biggest triumph — to connect two disparate worlds. Longing, memory, pain, trauma have rarely coexisted in such an artistic and poetic manner.
