Deepika Padukone's Meera - A Study

Since everyone is putting in their two cents on what they thought about Love Aj Kal, I cannot be outdone:

I thought Deepika Padukone wasn’t so bad as Raja Sen made her out to be. While this is not definitely her best work yet according to Taran Adarsh, she did make her character rather believable. She is supposed to play an overly practical girl who chooses her career over anyone else, without a single romantic bone in her body. And by romance, I don’t mean the fine dining, red roses, violins sort of romance. I am talking about comfort, understanding and compromise sort of romance. She’s not the girl who will tell her man I will give up my rather interesting job because you want to have your ego and your dreams and your girl. She will tell him I rather marry the boy mummy daddy chose because they are sure to choose someone who understands my dreams and they can’t be wrong because they have been married 30 years.
Deepika’s Meera is understands how the world functions and is very indicative of the new feminist breed of women. She makes her own decisions and she calls a spade a spade.

On retrospect, I think Deepika’s Meera is the strongest character in the film.
Saif Ali Khan plays yet another metrosexual confused ‘dude’ who tries too hard to ooze uber cool. If he was paired with say a Kareena or a Priety, he would have looked easier on screen but while Deepika Padukone is earthiness and a ‘okay I am on screen and I am a no nonsense girl so don’t even bother,’ he is ‘how do I create chemistry with someone who is better off with a guy who reflects all the serious points in life.’

And serious she is. Oh God. After one point, her seriousness got so annoying that it got boring. Her smile, though gorgeous, lacks the wistfulness her character feels throughout. However, I think her character is not a very easily likeable person. She is not supposed to be all sunshine and butterflies just because she has dimples. She’s focused, and she’s callous. She’s also indecisive and she wants things to be convenient. She’s direct and doesn’t mince words. In short, she’s just another normal girl trying hard to let go of her love. I think it’s a well thought out character.

So that’s what I thought of Miss Padukone. The film overall had its moments. But I honestly related to the break ups, and the yearning. I also cracked up at what could be the best line of the year: 'Main baad main maafi maang lungi.' Poor Rahul Khanna. He should win an award for Most Dumped Guy onscreen.

Imtiaz Ali really knows how to frame a scene. Sepia filters never looked so beautiful. The ending had to be a crowd pleaser and Neetu Kapoor is still beautiful.

The First Among Many Firsts

Growing older is hitting closer home. An old school friend recently got married and I got pwnd as the loved one says. I found out through Facebook that AB has been tagged in an album named ‘Wedding.’ So I click on it because I love to see wedding pictures of people I have no idea exist and don’t care they do, when suddenly I see that old gummy smile, and those twinkling eyes winking cheekily at me. AB was married a couple days ago and I found out through Facebook. Imagine that. I have become a social victim of the internet.

AB is younger than me by a few months and I have always thought of him as the House Captain with the epaulets that would stick out on his shoulders and make him look like a Star Fleet officer. But now that our AB is married, reality is sinking in even faster. I am soon to be 25, I am soon going to be officially in a place where I can’t depend on my dad for getting the car serviced, or expect my mom to cook dal for me. I have to start caring for other people; I am soon going to be a care giver. Shudder. The word ‘care giver’ reminds me of pristine, white gleaming hospitals.

A favorite childhood AB memory of mine is when we got dressed in our best Indian clothes to go for an Independence Day Dance at the Naval Club. And soon we were boogying the night away to ‘Cecilia,’ and ‘Macarena,’ and I remember our two left feet dance: Jump to the left, hop to the right, do a mini pelvic thrust…or do what AB does…stomp the ground with each foot. Stomp stomp in perfect rhythm goes one foot, stomp stomp goes the other.

Another time, I was asked to play the harmonium during the school assembly. As I struggled to lead the totally disinterested Class 7 choir into the nasal bars of Daya Kara Daan, there he was: AB. Smiling and encouraging so that I don’t forget the chords. Just the night before, he had painstakingly taught me all the chords and keys of the school songs.

This is how it feels when my childhood actually feels like it has ended. Empty. And yet, happy. And grateful. Look how far we’ve come.

Good luck, and many congratulations, AB!