Do Deewane Seher Mein: Simple Love, Real Insecurities

I recently watched Do Deewane Seher Mein on Netflix. Since it’s backed by Sanjay Leela Bhansali, I was naturally curious. We hardly get old-school romantic movies anymore, the kind where love feels simple, and tradition is not mocked. That’s also what pushed me to check out Bada Naam Karenge on Sony Liv, created by Sooraj Barjatya.

If you’ve grown up watching Barjatya and Bhansali films, both these productions will feel familiar in a comforting way. At a time when romance on screen often leans heavily into physicality, these stories bring back themes like family, matchmaking, and mutual respect. They are the kind of feel-good watches you’d pick for a relaxed weekend.

Coming back to Do Deewane Seher Mein, the story revolves around two individuals dealing with their own insecurities and how those insecurities affect their relationship. The female lead struggles with her appearance, shaped by years of comments and comparisons, especially with her sister. That part felt very real to me. Growing up, I was the “ugly duckling” in my family too. I had thick glasses, was painfully shy, and very thin. It was only in my 20s that I began to fit into what society considers “good-looking.” Even now, compliments feel a bit superficial to me. That’s what constant criticism during your formative years can do. So I completely understood her emotional journey.

The male lead’s insecurity is also relatable, but I wish the film had spent more time building these emotional layers. The foundation is there, but the depth feels slightly underdeveloped. Because of that, when the characters reach their breaking point, it doesn’t hit as hard as it could have. The story had strong potential but seemed to lose momentum along the way.

That said, both Siddhant Chaturvedi and Mrunal Thakur deliver solid performances and do justice to their roles.

Overall, Do Deewane Seher Mein is a decent one-time watch, especially if you enjoy classic-style romantic storytelling. It’s currently streaming on Netflix.

If You Were Locked in a Room with 10 Men for 10 Days

I came across this post on Reddit recently. It immediately made me think about my own experiences.

At the end of the day, it really comes down to energy, doesn’t it?

When I was in the North East, and it started snowing heavily, I stepped into a small shed with a heater. The shed was full of North Eastern men, including my guide. I was the only woman there at that moment.

And yet, I did not feel unsafe even for a second.

That moment stayed with me because it showed me something important about how we perceive safety while traveling or being around strangers.

Now imagine a similar situation somewhere else in India. There are some men I know personally, even a few colleagues, with whom I would feel uncomfortable being stuck in a small space. Not because they have ever done anything that could be complained about. Nothing like that. But the energy they give off simply does not make me feel comfortable.

Safety often has less to do with whether we know someone and more to do with the vibes they give off and whether we are comfortable with those vibes.

Many women will relate to this. We tend to have strong instincts when it comes to unsafe environments. Research often suggests that these instincts developed over time as part of human evolution. Women had to learn to read subtle cues in order to stay safe.

That is why sometimes we feel calm around complete strangers, while at other times we feel uneasy around people we already know.

If women were allowed to choose the people they would spend those 10 days locked up with, most of us would probably make the right call about who we feel safe around.

The real problem arises when that choice is taken away from us, and the men we are to be locked up with, whether known or unknown, are chosen by someone else. When that happens, the chances of discomfort or even unsafe situations naturally increase.

For me, that snowy day in the North East was a reminder that safety is not always about familiarity. Sometimes it is simply about the energy people carry, and the signals our instincts quietly pick up.

Ithiri Neram: When Old Love Returns Years Later

Ithiri Neram Movie Poster with Roshan Mathew and Zarin Shihab

I picked the Malayalam movie Ithiri Neram randomly last weekend. I usually choose movies based purely on my mood. Because of that, I often ignore films or dramas that are trending or getting a lot of attention. Sometimes I simply may not be in the mood for that genre.

Ithiri Neram had been sitting in my watchlist for quite some time. After my North East trip, I suddenly felt like watching something slow-paced and centered on human interactions. I wanted a quiet Malayalam film that focuses more on emotions than plot twists. Ithiri Neram seemed perfect for that kind of weekend watch.

The story deals with a slightly controversial theme. It follows a married man who reconnects with his college flame. In a way, it reminded me of the Tamil movie 96, but almost in reverse.

Because the story revolves around a married man who still carries unresolved feelings for his ex, the film creates an unusual emotional conflict for the viewer. You enjoy the crackling chemistry (a type of chemistry that conveys a lot through eye contact) between the lead pair, yet at the same time you feel a sense of guilt. You cannot help but think about the wife, who has no idea what her husband really feels about their marriage. According to him, that “special feeling” is missing in the marriage. This aspect of the story also became a point of debate among viewers. Some felt that the movie glorified an extramarital emotional connection. But I don’t think movies always need to function as a vehicle for social messaging. Cinema is also a space to tell stories about human emotions, even the uncomfortable ones.

And the truth is, the idea that someone may still carry feelings for an old love is not unrealistic. It may not be something people openly admit, especially after marriage. But it is a very human experience that exists quietly in many lives.

The chemistry between the two leads is undeniable. Their conversations and silences pull you in emotionally. At times it feels like the film quietly pushes the audience into rooting for something that is not right.

Once you reach your 40s, you also start realizing something uncomfortable. Chemistry is rare. You may settle down with someone you deeply respect and care for. The relationship can be stable and supportive. Yet, like Anish in the film, you might sometimes feel that something extra is missing. That “extra” could be a kind of chemistry you once experienced in the past and have been searching for ever since.

Over time, many people choose stability over chemistry. And in many ways, that decision makes sense. Life cannot run on chemistry alone. Intense chemistry can also bring strong emotions that are hard to manage, and that intensity can sometimes destabilize relationships.

Roshan Mathew and Zarin Shihab deliver beautiful and natural performances. Their screen presence carries the emotional weight of the story very well. The comedy relief also works nicely and matches my kind of humor. I genuinely enjoyed those lighter moments.

The supporting cast adds good balance to the film. Performances by Nandu and Anand Manmadhan help keep the story light so that the emotional tension never becomes overwhelming.

If you enjoy slow movies that focus on relationships, nostalgia, and complicated emotions, Ithiri Neram might be worth adding to your watchlist.

Ithiri Neram is currently streaming on Prime Video.

Sometimes the Best Part of Travel Is the People You Meet

For me, the best part of travel is rarely just the destination. It is almost always the people I meet along the way. Sometimes they are fellow Indians I happen to run into while traveling abroad. Other times, they are locals who live there. Either way, travel experiences often become more meaningful because of the people you unexpectedly connect with.

It always amazes me how you can visit a completely new place and instantly click with someone. Someone you had almost zero chance of meeting in your life. Someone you may never meet again. There is something both beautiful and bittersweet about that.

For a brief moment, you feel understood. You find a kind of ease in being yourself. It makes you wish there was someone like that back home. A friend with whom conversations flow naturally, and silence is comfortable. But when the trip ends, you leave with the quiet realization that a part of that connection belongs to that place and moment. And you need to regrettably acknowledge and accept that fact and move on.

Now that I am back in India after my trip to the North East, I realize something interesting. What stays with me is not the destination or the sightseeing. It is the people I connected with during my travels. The random conversations, the shared laughter, and the small moments that made the journey special.

Those encounters also reminded me of something important. Even in my 40s, making new friends is still very much possible. Travel has a funny way of proving that meaningful connections can happen at any stage of life.

Of course, we can stay connected online. Social media and messaging apps make it easy to keep in touch with people you meet while traveling. But it is never quite the same as meeting someone face to face. There is a kind of chemistry in real-life interactions that online conversations cannot fully capture. The smiles, the sparkle in someone’s eyes, the playful teasing, the expressions, and the shared energy of the moment.

That is one reason why travel feels both rejuvenating and humbling. It lifts you into a small dreamlike bubble for a while. You feel lighter, freer, and more open to people and experiences.

But eventually, every trip ends. You leave that bubble behind and return to everyday life. Routine, work, responsibilities, and schedules slowly start filling your days again. Your mind may not be fully ready for reality for a few days. Part of you is still wandering through those travel memories.

Life, however, has a gentle way of bringing you back to the familiar. Slowly, day by day, you settle back into your usual rhythm. The memories of the trip remain, but over time they soften. The details blur a little. The feelings become less intense.

Until the next journey begins.

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Photo by All teams name