Complimentary angles

So a few of us (including my visiting blog friend from India) were hanging out at New Asia bar at the 71st floor of Swissotel the Stamford. The Stamford is the tallest hotel in southeast Asia and New Asia bar, in my opinion, offers the best view of Singapore. So we were all looking at the beautiful city lights through the window when I suddenly remembered another panoramic view - the restrooms in the Stamford. So in a purely girly gesture, I dragged both girls to check out the restrooms. They were exactly like I remembered them - huge, beautiful, luxurious, an almost vulgar waste of space.

As I sat down on one of the cushioned chairs waiting for my friends who were checking out the interiors, a Caucasian girl walked past me. Then she stopped, turned and exclaimed, "Oh my god, I LOVE your dress!" Now I'm the kind who believes that it's not your clothes that people compliment, it's how you carry them. So I took the compliment rather personally and grinned like a hyena. She accepted my thanks and went her way, leaving me wondering about compliments from strangers.

There is something amazing about a compliment from a total stranger. It must take quite something for someone who doesn't know you at all, isn't trying to get anything out of you, to stop and say something that makes you happy, but is probably not of any consequence to him or her. That is, perhaps, the purest form of appreciation.

When my Mom was here on the way to the US, I sent a light blue top for my sister through her. Now my sister and I are polar opposites in everything. She's calm, serene and dignified. Ahem. I rest my case.

So Mom said, "I'll probably be bringing this back when I return. I doubt she will wear it." Unlike me, my sister doesn't wear very bright colours. She goes for greys, browns, blacks and muted shades of other colours.

"It'll look good on her. Ask her to try it on."

"Yeah, but you know her. This is not her colour."

"I know it's not her colour. But make her wear it once. If she doesn't like it, bring it back. I'll wear it." I told Mom.

A few days ago, Mom called.

"You know, she wore it today?"

"She did?? Where to?"

"The library."

"The library??"

"Yeah."

"Hmmmph! Of all places..." :/

"And some random girl walked past her and told her it was a beautiful top."

"Really?? And??"

"Yeah, and now she really likes it."

It's difficult to convey rolling eyes over the phone, but I rolled them anyway.

And I wondered - what is it about a stranger's compliment that overrides everything else? The same 'pointless' point made by your own family members now has a point because a total stranger made it? Perhaps it's the total lack of bias that makes a stranger's compliment so objective, so pure, so real... the truth?

Have you ever complimented - or been complimented by - a total stranger?

Kids say the darndest things

It's a lovely moonlit night. A lady is walking along the road, holding her two kids' hands. The girl is aged about four and the boy about seven. My friends are I are walking just behind them.

Girl (looks up and points at the moon) - Look! Look! Moon!
Boy (glares at his sister) - Don't point! It's rude to point!

(S)O-SO

"You saw an SRK movie yest and still no post about it on your blog. Are you alright? Is everything ok?"

My friend sent me this sms yesterday.

Sheesh.

The rest of you who probably think Bhai has kalti-maroed from patli gali after leaving bar khulla, are wrong. Bhai is not underground, Bhai is overworked. I am covering four titles of one of my editors who's away on marriage leave, and also involved in the training program for the newest editor in my team. Bole toh - this week fultu biji. Saans lene ko fursat nahin types. Aap convince ho gaye ki main aur bolun? (Yes, this dialogue is from Jab We Met - one of my favourite ones from the movie!)

Besides, a very dear blog friend is visiting Singapore and staying with Viv and me, so I doubt I will have a lot of time for the bar this week. Dukaan khulla hai, bindaas piyo, bhidu log! Bhai bhot generous hai.

So I watched OSO on sunday (I totally refuse to watch SLB's translucent-towel-dropping movie), and my review is exactly that. (S)o-so. I watched Jab We Met again in the theatre right after OSO and I think I still enjoyed it more. But there were brilliant moments in OSO too. Here is my quick review (may contain spoilers).

1. Shabana Azmi totally phodoed it - her one-liner was the best in the movie.
2. I totally think Karan Johar should have said what Sanjay Kapoor said - that would have brought the house down!
3. Manoj Kumar, chill re, if there's anyone who should feel insulted about his portrayal in the movie, it's Sooraj Barjatya and even he was heard ROFLing over his scene.
4. I can't believe Vishal got two lines but Shekhar didn't get any. Acting nahin aati? Do line nahin bol sakta? Useless fella!
5. Deepika is hot, but not hotter than Shilpa Shetty in a sari.
6. Farah should only make spoof movies.
7. Sonu Nigam sounds heavenly in "Main agar kahoon". The song sounds better heard by itself - without the video.
8. The 70s scenes were not very authentic. Looked very movie-set type. I'd expected Farah to use the 70s' grainy look in the first half.
9. Shreyas was wasted.
10. "Real life mein kitna short hai!" was howlarious.
11. King Khan is King Khan. Arrogant rascalaaa, but we love him. Mind it!

Samachar samapt hue.

The code - cracked

Note: This is my 555th post. Panch sau pachpan washing powder panch sau pachpan! :D

So I have cracked my code, I mean 'cold' and can say my m's and n's. Yeay!

Now it's time to see which of you guys cracked my code on the last post! Everyone did well, but it was kinda expected, cos knowing Viv and me, you'd know that this would be very heavily cricket/Bollywood focussed. :D

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Of course this is Dhoni! Most of you got it, but Himesh Reshammiya was a close contender. I guess it could be Himesh, but he has more facial hair, yeah? Other contenders were Jack sparrow and Yasser Arafat!

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Again an easy-peasy one. There is only one famous muchhwala chef - Sanjeev Kapoor! Again, most of you got it, but special shoutout to Shub who thinks I am soooo SRK-crazy that I drew SRK in the movie Duplicate here. Haha! I don't think he had a moustache in Duplicate, did he? Army, yes, but Duplicate? :O Ursjina's guess was 'Sayesha's cook'! Damn I'm insulted! I dun need no cook-shook! :/ Ramkumar thought it was Viv! Hahaha!

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Okay, this is the one drawing I am most ashamed of. Fortunately, some of you guessed it, and may I just say you guys ROCK for having guessed this is Oprah in spite of the very bad drawing. I didn't mean for the others to turn out as kids, I just wanted to show that on her show everyone cries. Viv took the longest to guess this one! Your guesses included Rakhi Sawant, Evita, Mamata Banerjee, Sayesha (SHEESH!), SRK (Shub, I'm gonna kill you for this one!), "some teacher", Kalam, Viv (SHEESH!), Hilary Clinton, Indian Idol, Madonna and Ms. Briganza aha (Duhita, bonus point for you for this one!)!

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Yeah, Viv started with Beyonce too, but then I drew the big butt and he said Jennifer Lopez and then I drew the 'shake' lines near the butt and finally he guessed it was Shakira! Most of you also guessed one of the three. Sanchit and Bivas thought it's Mauli Dave (well done, guys!), while others came up with Annie (who's that?), Janet Jackson, Madonna, Britney, and Mariah Carey. Crazy Dhakkan gets bonus point for her guess "Saroj Khan trying her hand at singing".

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When Viv first drew this, I glared. "Dude, this is a cricketer. Do you know how many cricketers there are in the world?" Then he drew the goitre-like thing, and I immediately guessed it was Mandira Bedi. He wants a special shoutout to Kosh and VR who actually guessed this one correctly. Other contenders were Sachin, Dhoni, Ganguly, Symonds, Viv, Ponting, Malaika (why?), Sayesha (CHHEH!) and Deepika. My bonus point goes to Amey for asking, "Is that a bat or a knife?"

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South Indian superstar - Rajnikanth! Most of you got it, but other contenders were Nelson Mandela (Sheesh, my India map looks like Africa?), Shah Rukh Khan, Dravid, Mani Ratnam, de-turbanated Manmohan Singh (shabash, Bivas!), Manoj Kumar, Big B, Himesh and Narendra Modi.


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Okay confession - first I thought I'll draw the guy who copies Harsha Bhogle, then I remembered that I did not remember his name, or whether he even wore glasses. Sheesh. So I decided to draw Harsha. Apologies to his fans for giving him the wrong kind of frames. Again, most got it, but some also guessed Kumble, Udayan Mukherjee, Dravid and Sachin.

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Okay, here come's Viv's famous body cast. Come to think of it, most of what he draws resembles this. However, since I have been thinking of OSO (haven't seen it yet!!! Oh the horror!), the moment he drew the two lines across the abs, I knew it was King Khan. Viv was a bit sad that I did not even let him complete the six-pack, but boy, was he delighted to see that many others also guessed it correctly. Bonus point to Raj for guessing 'Hangman' and to Crazy Dhakkan for guessing 'Gabbar with his arms re-growing'. Aequo Animo thought it was a scarecrow, whereas Sandew thought it was someone wearing an oversized T-shirt. Sowmya said, "LOL @ this. Hands look like mug handles." while Amey asked "A man?". Clueless thought it was an Ajanta/Ellora painting while Duhita christened him 'Plastic man' (I'm already singing in my head, "Plastic man, plastic man, friendly recyclable plastic man!"). Somya thought it was Rakhi Sawant because "anything that looks weird is Rakhi Sawant."

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This was another simple one that almost everyone got. Those who didn't guessed Gopi Chand, Ritwik Bhattacharya (who's that?) Mahima, Hingis, Sania Mirza, Leander Paes and Federer. Come on people, surely that doesn't look like a tennis ball? I took great pains to draw that shuttlecock! :/


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Again, if you're in the OSO frame of mind, this is a give-away. Most got it, but those who didn't guessed Sayesha (why oh why?), Ekta Kapoor, Deepa Mehta, Ahana Deol (she's a director already?), Barkha Dutt and Deepika.

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When I drew the heavy kohl and lipstick, Viv still couldn't guess it. So I just kept drawing bottles and tubes of cosmetics till he arrived at Shehnaz Hussein. Some of you got it. Other guesses included Kareena Kapoor (actually yeah, in Asoka she did look like this!), Aishwarya, not Sayesha (gee, thanks! :/), SRK (*throws a durian at Shub*), Britney, Rekha, Paris Hilton and Mandira Bedi. Amey responded with a "Did Halloween come late? Who is THAT? :o"

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Again, almost everyone got this. Those who didn't (and thought it was Siddhu, Sukhvir Singh, Ishmit, etc.) hmmmph! :/ Sanchit thought it could be Mika or Rabbi too, but Mika doesn't wear a turban and Rabbi doesn't wear this overcoat thingie. Ha! :D

Okay, it's time to announce the winners!!

1st prize goes to... Sandew with 9 correct answers! *a keg of pani puri ka pani to Sandew*

2nd prize is shared by... Sanchit, Kosh, Shekhar and Bivas with 8 correct answers! *a jug of pani puri ka pani to each*

3rd prize is shared by... Shashikant, Shub, Ursjina, Stone and Baawara Mann with 7 correct answers! *a glass of pani puri ka pani to each. Oh wait. Except Shub. Shub doesn't get anything. :/*

Thanks for playing, everyone! :)


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Crack the code

So I have a bad code ad by dose is blocked ad I'b sittig at hobe feelig bored ad I thought I'd write a blog post. Viv ad I played pictiodary last dight ad we drew sobe persodalities. Cad you guess who they are? I have edabled cobbet boderatiod so dobody cad copy others' adswers. I will release the results id the dext post, with special bedshud of special guessers.

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Who put the goat in there?

My dear friend American Pie could not have sent me this video link at a more apt time. You see, I'm trying to learn tamil, and even though I can now officially differentiate between 'kannaadi', 'munnaadi', 'takaali' and 'muttaal', I still have a long way to go. However, this video actually made me glad that I don't understand everything in tamil, because if I did, I wouldn't be able to enjoy, appreciate and most importantly, ROTFLOL my ass off at this uber-hilarious (albeit highly inappropriate at times) video the way I did.



And here's another one I found on Youtube (this one's in Telugu).

O Bhaiyas, where art thou?

Diwali often makes NRIs nostalgic. In my case, it depresses me. I start missing the festivities in India and no matter how clean my house is, how beautiful the rangoli around the house is, how nice my new clothes are, how tasty the kheer I make is, how ethnic the hand-painted diyas at my doorstep are, how pretty the henna on my hands is, I miss certain things very very much. I basically miss the festive spirit in the air, which, in spite of the public holiday, I don’t feel here.

Even though I have been scared of loud firecrackers when I was young, I miss the smell of the barood in the air. Even though I have always hated sweets, I miss the exchange of mithais that happened between neighbours. Even though I hate crowds, I miss the crowded lane just before the ‘gali ka ladi bum’ was lighted.

And I miss the Bhaiyas.

The Bhaiyas were a rare specimen that knocked on your door every year a few days before Diwali. They were like Halloween kids, except that they were seventeen and to my six-year-old self, very very tall, and very very cool. They were also known to all grown-ups in our neighbourhood as ‘the good-for-nothing ruffians who had never given darshan at the college gates’.

***

Flashback 1986

The doorbell rings. Mom asks me to open the door.

I look through the peephole. It's the Bhaiyas of the neighbourhood. I like them. They let me fly their kites, ride their bikes, spin their tops and field during gully cricket.

I open the door.

Bhaiya 1 - Is your Mom in?

Me - Yes. And Dad is in too.

Bhaiya2 - Oh shit!

Bhaiya3 - Okay, can you call your Dad?

Me - Dad, Bhaiya log are here!

Dad comes to the door.

B1 - Namaste, Uncle.

Dad (suspiciously) - Haan namaste namaste... what is it?

B1 - Happy Diwali, Uncle!

Dad (glares) - Diwali is next week.

B2 - Yes yes. But we have to prepare beforehand, isn't it?

Dad - Prepare for?

B1 – The celebrations, uncle!

Dad - Just exactly why are you here?

B3 - Uncle, 50 rupees...

Dad - 50 rupees?? Why?

B1 - Uncle... chanda...

Dad - Chanda??

B2 - Diwali donation, uncle!

Dad - Diwali donation?? For??

B2 (nervously) - Uncle, everyone is giving...

Dad - But why??

B3 - Uncle, ladi bum!
(I'm sorry, but there's just no other way to spell it if I want to do justice to the way they pronounced it!)

Dad - Ladi bum? What's that??

B1 (grins with delight) – Uncle, it's a firecracker. For the whole neighbourhood!

Dad - For the whole neighbourhood??

B2 - Yes, uncle! We are going to buy the 1000-rupees wala ladi bum and line it from one end of our lane to the other.

Dad (dirty look) - Huh?

B3 - And then we will light it at 10 pm. It's for everyone who lives in this lane... You can come out and watch.

Dad - Watch? Watch what? Watch you people set fire to a 1000-rupee note?

B2 (murmurs) - Ufff... Yeh banker log...

B1 - Uncle, please?

Dad continues to look at them sternly.

B2 (tries to look beyond Dad's shoulder) - Aunty, please? Samjhaiye na Uncle ko...

Mom looks at Dad helplessly.

Dad - I will give you 20 rupees. That's it.

B1 - What will we do with 20 rupees, Uncle? If everyone started giving only 20 rupees, the ladi bum won't even reach the end of the lane!

Dad (glares again) - It will reach all right. Just don't subtract your alochol money from it.

B3 - Alcohol? Uncle, what are you saying?? Alcohol and us??

Dad - I know your ways. You will use 50% of the money for your ladi-wadi bum, and I know where the rest will go.

B1, B2 and B3 look at one another in mock-horror, and then silent resignation.

B2 - But Uncle...

Dad - 20 rupees. Take it or leave it.

B1 - Okay fine, Uncle...

Dad hands 20 rupees over.

B2 - Thank you, Uncle!

B3 - Happy Diwali, Uncle, Aunty!

Dad – Theek hai, theek hai, bye.

B1 (to me) - Bye! 10 pm, okay?

Me (delighted to have been spoken to) - Bye, Bhaiya log!

"Good-for-nothing gundas..." Dad mumbles, shakes his head in disapproval and goes back to reading the paper.

***

Sometimes I wonder where all the Bhaiyas are now. I imagine some of them as pot-bellied uncles probably, trying to sweat it out in the family business. Maybe some of them really made it big. Maybe they are all are married by now, bogged down by office and family responsibilities and stolen of their infamous gunda-image. But to those who still have that spark and remember the Diwali-chanda days two decades ago, I want to extend my appreciation.

You guys were an integral part of the years I had spent in India, and my Diwali-nostalgia will always always include you.

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Check-in' the mail?

July 1998

So I’m sitting in the canteen writing a letter (yes, you read that right!) when a second year guy approaches me.

"Hi Sayesha, what on earth are you doing?" He grinned.

"Bharatnatyam." I wanted to say, but smartass freshies really get it (and I’d had enough and enough of being ragged), so I decided against it.

"I'm writing a letter." I said.

"You're writing a letter?"

"Yeah."

"To whom?"

"Santa Claus." I went in my head, then changed my mind again.

"Mom and Dad."

"You're writing a letter to your Mom and Dad?" He was extremely amused.

"She's writing a letter to her Mom and Dad!" he hollered to two of his batchmates who also decided to join in and examine “the specimen who wrote letters to people”.

"Why don't you email them?"

"They don't have email."

They looked at each other.

"Besides, letters have their own charm." I added.

"Letters have their own charm... wah wah!" they guffawed.

"You know what, Sayesha? I bet you'll stop writing letters by the time you make it to second year."

"I'll NEVER." I said indignantly.

("Never stop writing" I meant, not "never make it to second year".)

"I will prove you wrong, dude!" I made a resolution.

Erm, I stopped writing letters by the end of the first semester.

My excuse? Everyone did. Dad had got email, it was faster and hassle-free, and I could do it in the middle of a boring class. I emailed him every day. Then every week, then every month. I believe I’m still at every month.

Back in the days of letters, we checked our mailboxes once in a few days. The world then moved online and there were fewer reasons to check our mailboxes. Mailboxes became almost useless, in other words - spam central. And we got crazily emailing. In the beginning, it was fun. Emails were long and descriptive and delightful. Over the years, they started getting shorter and shorter. We actually preferred them that way. Then people we know stopped emailing us, and people who did not know us started instead. People who were trying to sell you online university degrees, or drugs to enhance body parts your gender doesn't have in the first place, or promises to transfer gazillions of dollars to your account on no account, or pleas for help from 8-year-old Ethiopian orphans who never grew a day since the early nineties when they first started emailing us. Sometimes we ‘paid it forward’ by sending them to people we dislike.

We hated these emails because they were not sent to us - they were not personalised. They were stupid forwards meant for the whole damn world and sent to the whole damn world. We deleted it all. Then came gmail and the spam disappeared. So for all those jobless blokes who checked email just to delete spam and hence “have something to do”, gmail was of no use.

But we continue checking. I am not even sure why we do it. I highly doubt that it’s in the hope that someone some day will write us a nice long email meant only for us. If that was the case, why do we look at the personalised emails that bhoole bhatke come to us and go, “Shit! Do I have to reply to this?” We read it and put it aside because we don't know what to reply, even though it was probably why we kept checking our email. And even if we reply, and we get a reply to our reply, and after that, there is not much to say anymore. But isn’t that why we were checking our email in the first place – to receive something meant for us? Didn't we delete like everything else??

Yesterday I made a resolution, to make better use of email. To email properly and reply properly, and perhaps devote an hour or so every weekend to what Rachel (F.R.I.E.N.D.S) calls "catching up on correspondence". Enough is enough. I can't keep checking my email when I don't expect to send any out - it's downright ridiculous!

Strange… We want to be remembered, but we don't remember.

But we keep checking our email. Day in day out. At home, at work, during the weekdays, during the weekends. From our PCs, from our laptops, from our phones. We keep checking. Several email accounts. Several times a day. Like maniacs.

Sometimes I wonder - what the heck are we checking for?

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Jab they met (and exceeded) expectations

Chill, bewdas, chill - no spoilers. :)

When a movie has a title as inane as ‘Jab we met’ and stars Kareena Kapoor, there are only two people in the world who can make me watch it. (They even look like each other, hehe!)

1. Raja Sen, Rediff movie reviewer – I have been a fan of the guy since I read an interview of his where he described the relatively unknown movie ‘Socha Na Tha’ as “an honest script” and I felt like he had literally stolen my exact thoughts about the movie. Yes, I may be a total Bollywood person with my share of love for the SRKs and the Karan Johars, but truth be told, my all time favourite movie is the simple and down to earth Socha Na Tha.


2. Imtiaz Ali, the relatively unknown director of the movie ‘Socha Na Tha’ who also wrote and edited the movie, and went on to script ‘Ahista Ahista’, another movie I like very very much. What I love about Imtiaz Ali's movies are the way the characters speak - just like you and me. I guess it helps that he's a writer/director, so nothing conceptualised by Imtiaz the writer is lost in translation - because Imtiaz the director ensures it is executed exactly the way it was conceptualised.

So Raja Sen did not review ‘Jab We Met’ (perhaps he’s gearing up for the OSO/Saawariya marathon next weekend) but as soon as I knew that Imtiaz Ali had directed the movie (check out this conversation between the two), I not only knew I was going to watch it, I knew I was going to love it.

Quick sms messages went out to my friends Shub and Pizzadude (I could not wait for certain people who live in China) and soon we found ourselves in the best seats of the house, thanks to my paranoid buying of the tickets 45 minutes before the show (an Imtiaz Ali movie can only be appreciated from nothing less than the best seats). We had all been rolling our eyes at the movie title, but the worst was when we saw the title written in the hindi script. All of us read it out as ‘Jab we mate’ and burst out laughing like maniacs even before the movie had started. Little did we know that we would be laughing every five minutes of the movie courtesy a certain very very funny Ms. Kapoor.

Now here’s the honest truth – I have disliked Kareena Kapoor rather immensely all my Bollywood-fan life. And over the years as she reprised the role of her K3G Pooja (or Poo, as she was better known as) in movie after movie, she became the warning signal and I ran in the opposite direction at the mere mention of her being in a movie. Just when she’d redeem herself in a Yuva or a Omkara (I was impressed by her in both movies, even though she had very brief roles), she’d make another bimbotic appearance somewhere. And I used to think – if only she got rid of the annoying Poo inside her (okay that sounded gross, but you know what I mean), perhaps she’d make quite a good actress. Maybe all she needed was the right movie.

And boy, is ‘Jab We Met’ the right movie.

Imtiaz Ali is a genius. Interestingly, all three of his movies so far have had the underlying theme of ‘running away from home’, yet they are all treated in very different and creative ways. His movies are like thrillers without the gore – you get involved in the character’s life and stay involved till the end. You want to know what is going to happen to the characters, and often you do not know whom to empathise with, which makes his movies amazingly real and relatable. And the creative ways in which he ends the movies, even if the ending is one of those happy predictable ones, always always get my applause. Not to mention the little ironic quirks he sprinkles evenly throughout the movie.

I believe the reason why I like Abhay Deol and Ayesha Takia so much is the way Imtiaz presented them in Socha Na Tha (and later Abhay again in Ahista Ahista). He managed to get the best out of both of them. And just when you thought that it was because he worked with newbies whom he could easily mould into the characters he wrote, he pulled off a ‘Jab We Met’ with a seasoned commercial actress.

The casting of ‘Jab We Met’ could not have been more perfect. However, it must have taken some vision to imagine Kareena in the role of Geet. And it must have been quite a task to make her shed her Poo-ness and get under the skin of Geet so effortlessly that even hardcore anti-Kareenas like me melt away and root for her. It's the kind of role that is difficult to portray without making the character an annoying, hamming over-the-top one, especially by someone like Kareena Kapoor. Though Imtiaz Ali is the kind of director who has that perfect control over his cast and does not allow them to ham, due credit must go to Kareena for letting him portray her in such an un-Kareena manner. Throughout the movie, she had many unconventional lines to say, which are extremely difficult to pull off, but Kareena got away with them and how. I am pleased to say that as of 3rd November 3.55 pm, I officially like Kareena Kapoor as an actress. And that is a brave brave statement for me to make.

Don't you love it when the so-called ‘predictable Bollywood’ takes you by surprise? I totally totally love it.

Shahid Kapoor has a shaky start in the movie. In fact, in the first two minutes of the movie as he wanders around in the streets in his business suit and glasses, sans the monkey-grin that we’re all so familiar with – you will actually think of him as a miscast. But as the movie progresses, he grows on you, just like Kareena does. I never believed that real-life couples can be convincing in reel life, but this movie has changed my belief. There could not have been a better fit for the role of Aditya than Shahid. Mainly because this is an out and out Kareena Kapoor movie, and Shahid lends able support to the larger-than-life character of Geet she portrays. He steps back and lets her shine, in a way that perhaps a boyfriend, not a co-star, would. You see the genuine chemistry between the crazy-bubbly Geet and the sensible-serious Aditya, you yearn for their togetherness and wonder - why oh why did Kareena and Shahid have to break up?

(And you also realise that if he turns off the monkey-grin you see in every movie of his, the Shahid dude is quite a looker. The intense gaze, the glasses, the rolling his eyes and shaking his head at her antics, all welcome.)

The movie, in spite of being brilliantly funny, is intense, moving and honest. It will touch you - if not now, some day in your life, one of the lines from the movie will come back and get you. I am so going back to watch it again (can't let Viv miss out on this one, and can't wait for the DVD).

Kareena and Shahid may not be together now (damn you Saif, now you’re going after the kids?!), but this movie is the best parting gift they could have given each other.

And us too.

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