Qarib Qarib Fun!

A simple story of completely opposite individuals with inhibitions and apprehension of their own. Both are crazy and nice at the same time and are consistent with their inconsistent ways.

Interesting way of falling in love, I must say.

(Mis)Concept of Taboo

Within our polished and distinguished lives, we have a forbidden segment that society does not want to talk about. In fact, the forbidden subjects find a reclusive and repellent way of surviving in a society that’s made with rules and for people, who follow such rules. It is desirable and despised in the same breath, surprisingly. 

Perhaps, one of the oldest surviving creatures on earth, the ‘Forbidden’ principles are looked through the eyes of the one who is willing to surpass boundaries, transcend cultures, experiment with truth.

There are few gems which make a foray in to the vicinity of the ‘Forbidden’, and dare to explore the cliche. What comes out is disturbing, powerful and staggering.

I want you to watch them, if you have the balls to do so.


A sexually abused 13 year old, who later confesses that it wasn’t really abuse in the first place. But, will a 13 year old understand if she is being abused in the first place is the million dollar question.

Unless, she feels uncomfortable about it, or feels that it isn’t the usual way of cuddling a 13 year old, then she can back off or resist.

It is a story of a dysfunctional individuals, thanks to early exposure to adultery.

Confronting the man responsible for taking advantage of her naive position opens up the pandora’s box to indulge some gross sexual conversations and the sinister intentions of man behind relationships.

Can it be called Love? Or is just, merely, lust and physical atonement?

Thousand questions, unknown answers and millions of eyebrows remain raised.


How many of us lend our hand of support to bisexual relationships? 

I don’t even know if we do find ourselves acquainted with any other relationship status codes except the usual, conventional, and of course, traditional. – Being straight.

I think we still live in a world were norms are not regulated neither organised. Worst, there are double standards and hypocrisy in the decision of right or wrong.

Yes, I like straight people do but I have nothing against ‘otherwise’ folks.

I think every girl has this sublime right to decide if she wants to get married or not. Even better, she chooses man or woman. I think is the theory of naturals, more than being unconventional or ridiculously shameful. 

Is it a sin if a girl falls in love with another girl? Yes, the mundane answer is ‘Yes. But is it something that you and me get to decide, is the more perceivable question.

Yes the seriousness and authentic of the relationships in itself can be questioned but the basis of judgement and interrogation should not be upon the gender of 2 individuals.

All kinds of people live and have the right to choose their partners.

It’s a free universe, remember? Straight, Bi, Hetero or Homo, you have every right to live and love, that is, the way you want it to be. The aesthetics must be in the right place.

The Art Of Loving/Masters of Sex

People have sex but a thesis on sex? Sounds ridiculous, isn’t it?

But, on the hindsight, why not?

Some of the most intimate, desirable and churning moments in a man/woman’s life comes out of sex.

Then, why not explore the core of human sexuality, understand devious emotion under the skin of pleasure?

Well, both these stories and their real time protagonists exactly did that, obviously amidst, massive criticism and hypocrisy.

Curatively inspired by true incidents, it’s woven with interesting and murderous characters that will often sweep you off the floor, for sheer audacity and conviction.

They did not go down in history as the most influential, but neither did they go unnoticed.

I would say, Bravo!


Some of the best moments in Deepa Mehta’s trilogy comes out from this movie. A subtle and powerful story of 2 women falling for each other in an environment woven with hatred, chauvinism and lust is recipe for some scintillating moments.

Indeed, Fire delivers, though controversially and effectively.

In a society where women are expected to be submissive and clouded, ‘Fire’ oozes fire, conflicting with boorish men and their quest to kill feminism through turmoil and circumstantial jinx.

No wonder, it took Box Office by a storm and ravaged through reluctant screens.

The Reader

Set in the background of World War II, it is an unusual love story of an elderly woman with young lad. Something which starts off with oodles of lust and physical attraction, it develops in to a more substantial relationship that looks a like having no future. Love.

As much as it’s forbidden today, way back then, such relationships would be placed under buckets like ‘Sin’ and ‘Malicious’. 

It is inauspicious story for auspicious reasons. Again, its love. The boy isn’t in frame of mind to understand why this is wrong and the older woman is so devoid of relationships in her life that falling in love with a young lad who could be the age of his son doesn’t stop her from continuing the passionate relationship with him.

Yes, war brings them together and war separates them. Obviously, such relationships need not understand the complexity of other precarious matters like caste, community and religion. When the clock turns, time sways away.

So did they, but the the relationship never made a dent in their hearts. In contrast, it only led them to understand that all that goes around comes back one day.

Blockbuster Review: Django Unchained – Ruffled Business!

A periodic flamingo ahead of a civil war with a solitary government prognosis and an aid who threatens the very existence of an inevitable black with an improbable quest to bisect the native world with a penchant of pursuance with audacity. Phew! Only and only, Quentin Tarantino can pull that off! And, he does with mayhem.

Right from the beginning till Django gets home victoriously, Tarantino’s script keeps it flowing like a river down the placid hills. The identification phase of Django couldn’t have been more precarious. “Could I take a look at your inventory…” was a crazy enough statement to get your nerves rolling down your cheeks and Schultz remains your ultimate protagonist-like menace. It also gives you a first hand look of Django (D is silent), soaked and chained. Well, that establishes the plot we are swelled in to.

We witness an amazing and courageous relationship between a black and white amidst ruins of marque slavery. And that makes the characters lounge over in awe, and many towards fathom of intrigue. It’s often myriad when you see your clan marching towards prospering fortunes while self are buried under the chains of barbarism. Difficult to believe and too painful to accept. Django is subjected to this relative phenomenon and every time he is scrutinised, Schultz savours the moment to introduce him as ‘Django, The Freeman’. He isn’t a slave and the uncapped ones loathe envy.

The sequences between Django and Mr. Schultz propagate human relationship of the highest order. While he lures him in to the gigantic proportions of ‘A Bounty Hunter’, he establishes the purpose with a fragile yet demanding phrase. “I have never given freedom to anyone, and now that I have, I feel a sense of responsibility towards that person”. Perhaps, in the world of Tarantino’s epics, such expressions of humane monologues fidget top class applause.

And just when I was getting in to the skin of Django and his mentor, in comes Calvin Candie. A lighter poke in to his arrival with a bash, Calvin gives our focal characters, a run for their brutal money. Initially, he is lurched in by Schultz’s charismatic presentation and his need for a ‘slave with panache’ but when Stephen intervenes, he becomes what he is. A pernicious slave hunter. For a little while, Calvin upstages the lead survivors in the beast of racists. Stephen is a black rascal, and understands his seeds well. He agonises Django in his search of lady love and those moments between Schultz, Calvin, Django and Stephen are probably, the craziest. And fittingly, outrageous.

Curtains come down in a typical Tarantino madness. Blood, gory and fountains of flesh run havoc as Django perpetrates and annihilates with the flair of a slave with fists of steel. The end sees him take his wife along with him, not before burying Calvin and Stephen amongst the ruthless mercenaries.

Tarantino’s casting is his mettle of soul. And I can’t stop raving about a singular phantom. Christoph Waltz is a man perceived and delivered well (he bags the Golden Globe for the supporting actor as this review gets published), Django looks, plays and escapes as a perfect slave. My pick (was difficult as I loved every inch of Dr. King Schultz) is DiCaprio. Calvin Candie is the specie we all would love to meet and dissect as two very different animals within his monstrous repertoire. Blazing and galvanising! Stephen was there because he is family for Tarantino, else how could I watch a Tarantino film without Samuel L Jackson!? Little frame but big shoes with a tantalising eye and a nose that pokes often with substance.

“You are a poor loser” – exclaims Calvin. “You are an abysmal winner” – Dr. Schultz touts back.

Django Unchained, is a dazzling Tarantino film.