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.

Accused (Netflix): A Promising Queer Romance That Loses Steam

Konkona Sen Sharma and Pratibha Ranta in Accused Image

I knew I would be watching Accused on Netflix the moment I saw the lead pair: Konkona Sen Sharma and Pratibha Ranta. I have always liked both actors, so that alone was reason enough to hit the play button. But what really caught my attention was the theme of queer romance. In Indian cinema, stories about same-sex relationships are still relatively rare, which makes films like this especially interesting.

Over the past few years, India has slowly begun opening up to conversations about LGBTQ+ relationships. What once felt shocking to mainstream audiences is gradually becoming part of everyday discussion. That change did not happen overnight. It is the result of efforts from many sides: legal changes like the decriminalization of homosexuality in India, activists who have spent years spreading awareness, and filmmakers who are willing to tell stories about queer love on screen. Because of that collective push, movies exploring same-sex romance are finding space in Indian cinema.

I still remember when the Malayalam movie Kaathal: The Core was released. It remains one of the Malayalam films I feel proud of. I saw its impact firsthand at a family event we attended around that time. Some of my elderly relatives actually began discussing the theme of the film. It was clear they were still a bit uncomfortable talking about homosexuality, but the conversation itself was a big step. What surprised me most was that a few of them were able to acknowledge that homosexuality is real and not something a person can simply control or change. And the reason they were willing to even consider that perspective was simple: Mammootty was part of the film. Seeing an actor from their own generation portray such a character helped normalize the topic for them.

That moment reminded me of the real impact cinema can have. Movies are not just entertainment. Sometimes, they quietly open the door to conversations that people would otherwise avoid.

Getting back to the movie in question, Accused begins on a fast-paced note. The opening pulls you in immediately, and there is enough intrigue to keep you watching as the story unfolds. For a while, the film manages to hold that tension well. Unfortunately, the narrative loses some of its strength towards the end, and the impact is not quite as powerful as the beginning promised.

That said, the performances are a big highlight. Konkona Sen Sharma and Pratibha Ranta are both wonderful to watch. Pratibha, in particular, looked great throughout the film. I even found myself noticing her earrings more than once. She has mostly been seen in village girl roles so far, so it was refreshing to see her play a modern, city girl in this Netflix film. I am definitely looking forward to seeing more stories featuring her.

Konkona, as expected, delivers a strong performance. Her character is aggressive, ambitious, and very clear about what she wants. She does not soften her words to make others comfortable, and that confidence makes her come across as a true “boss girl” personality. At the same time, the film also shows how women like her often end up being judged or disliked for the same qualities that would be admired in men.

Overall, Accused starts off as a gripping Netflix drama with an interesting queer romance angle and strong performances. Even though the ending feels a bit underwhelming, the film is still worth watching for its lead actors and the way it brings conversations about same-sex relationships in India to a wider audience.

Short Film Spotlight: Anuja

I was craving to watch a slice-of-life drama. Something simple, not too heavy or filled with dread. I honestly thought Anuja would be intense, given how the synopsis sounded. Plus, it’s a Hindi short film that was an Academy Award nominee.

Now, why would I mention the Academy Award nomination like it’s a bad thing? I have my reasons.

To be honest, Oscar nominees have rarely worked for me. In Malayalam, we call such films “award padam.” The kind that feels too abstract or complex for ordinary viewers (like yours truly). There was a time in my life, long ago, when I pretended to enjoy such films just to seem intellectual in front of my then-partner. But I couldn’t keep up the act, and that image fell apart the moment that relationship ended. Now, it seems I’m making up for that lost time. All I want to watch are feel-good films.

So when I saw that Anuja was an Oscar nominee, it didn’t excite me enough to hit play right away. It actually made me hesitate. After all, the Oscars have a reputation for picking Indian films that focus on pain and poverty, what many call “poverty porn,” which does not fully represent what India is today.

Still, I decided to give it a chance.

What’s It About?

A 9-year-old girl works with her sister in a garment factory in India. Despite being naturally bright and curious, she doesn’t attend school because of financial struggles. And, truthfully, she doesn’t want to either. Her elder sister, however, recognizes her potential and dreams of giving her the education she deserves.

Thoughts

The film was a pleasant surprise. I loved it. It was just 22 minutes, but packed with emotions.

It tells the story of child labourers. They are presented not as helpless victims, but as resilient children who find joy even in hardship. The truth is, we often see others through our own lens and may view them as “helpless.” But for them, this is simply life. They know no other kind of life, and they’re doing their best with what they have. That’s what the movie captures so beautifully — life as they see it, not as we do.

It’s a social hierarchy. Someone wealthier might be looking at me with pity, thinking I’m suffering. Yet I’m making the most of what I have, because that’s the life I know. We suffer mostly when we lose something we once had, when we can compare the before and after, and we truly miss the before.

I’ve often felt that those not well-off often make the best of what little they have, which is why they find happiness in the smallest things, like a bag of jalebi, for instance. Anuja captures that spirit beautifully: “The present may not be bright, but we can strive for a better tomorrow.”

The film avoids moral preaching or lecturing. It’s simply about two sisters supporting each other in a harsh world.

The most moving part of the film is that Sajda Pathan, who plays Anuja, was once a child labourer in Delhi before being rescued by the Salaam Baalak Trust (SBT). She now lives at the NGO’s Day Care Center, founded in 1988 by filmmaker Mira Nair, who, interestingly, is also the mother of New York’s new Mayor, Zohran Mamdani.

Ananya Shanbhag also delivers an excellent performance as the elder sister, Palak.

I would definitely recommend the short film. Anuja is streaming on Netflix.

Netflix Movie Spotlight: Odum Kuthira Chaadum Kuthira

Odum Kuthira Chaadum Kuthira Movie Poster

Odum Kuthira Chaadum Kuthira is a Malayalam movie that didn’t get glowing reviews. Still, I decided to give it a shot, because over time, I’ve learned that my taste rarely matches what others say. I’ve liked movies that everyone else trashed, and I’ve dropped shows that got rave reviews.

Take Bads of Bollywood, for instance. I quit after three episodes. The humor just didn’t click with me. The Emmy winner, Severance, on Apple TV? I made it to five episodes before giving up. It was too slow for my liking, and yes, I shamelessly looked up the spoilers for both because I couldn’t sit through the rest.

Serious movie fans and critics might think my choices are questionable. And that’s fine. I’m not trying to be anyone’s go-to person for movie recommendations. I watch movies for one simple reason: to be entertained. If a film or show keeps me hooked, that’s all that matters. I’ve also noticed how people often get shamed for liking a movie that others dislike, or for disliking one that everyone praises. This makes many stay silent about their opinions. My attempt at being open is simply to break away from that.

So, with that mindset, I started watching Odum Kuthira Chaadum Kuthira. I didn’t expect much, but I ended up being pleasantly surprised.

What’s It About?

Odum Kuthira Chaadum Kuthira opens with the wedding preparations of a quirky couple. On the night before the wedding, the bride visits the groom with an unusual request: she wants him to arrive at the venue on a horse. It’s her dream, she says. Or rather, it’s something that keeps recurring in her dreams. She believes the dream will stop only if he makes that grand entry for real. The ever-romantic groom agrees without hesitation. But what follows is a chain of chaotic events that quickly spiral out of control.

Thoughts

Unlike most recent Malayalam movies, Odum Kuthira Chaadum Kuthira is not dark, intellectual, or overly smart. The type critics will rave about. And it’s not meant to be. It’s a crackpot of a film filled with quirky, eccentric characters, and that’s exactly why I liked it. I enjoy seeing wacky personalities on screen, the kind you’d find in Andaz Apna Apna. This kind of comedy works for me. It’s not vulgar, it doesn’t demean women, and it’s genuinely funny.

The movie feels like a group of friends coming together to create something chaotic just for fun. More like a personal, experimental project than a polished production. Kudos to Fahadh Faasil and the team for taking that risk. I especially liked Lal’s character as Fahadh’s father, and I thought Revathi Pillai shared better chemistry with Fahadh than Kalyani Priyadarshan did.

I wish the ending were better. It was underwhelming, but that did not take away the fact that I enjoyed the majority of the movie.

Watch it if you’re in the mood for something silly, unserious, and refreshingly offbeat. Don’t expect a masterpiece: just expect a fun, wacky ride to unwind after a long day at work. Odum Kuthira Chaadum Kuthira is now streaming on Netflix.

An Ode to The Mehta Boys

Wholesome movies are rare these days in Indian cinema, making them feel like an oasis in a desert when they do appear. The demand for feel-good movies is higher than ever, as seen in the success of re-releases like Laila Majnu and Sanam Teri Kasam, which prove that Indian audiences are eager for romance and uplifting cinema. It is during such a time that The Mehta Boys has arrived on OTT (Amazon Prime).

The Mehta Boys is a poignant, understated father-son drama centered on their dysfunctional relationship. Open communication and emotional expression are not their strengths, often leaving them struggling for words. Boman Irani portrays a grieving husband learning to cope with his loss, while Avinash Tiwary plays his talented yet self-doubting son. The heart of the story lies in their journey toward accepting each other’s imperfections.

We often see such father-son dynamics play out in real life. In many Indian families, open displays of affection are rare, making the relationship feel more formal than familial. Conversations typically revolve around daily chores and future plans, with emotions deliberately left out. The Mehta Boys captures this dynamic perfectly, portraying characters who have much to say but choose to hide behind silence.

Boman Irani has done an exceptional job as a first-time director, leaving me eager to see what he creates next. Avinash Tiwary, as always, excels, effortlessly bringing out the angst, anxiety, and awkwardness of a character who gradually finds his voice. He shines, leaving you wondering why you don’t get to see him on-screen more frequently. Instead, audiences are repeatedly offered star kids given endless chances to prove themselves, while talented actors like Avinash, who have already showcased their brilliance in just a film or two, are left waiting. It’s unfair, but all one can do is wait for movies like The Mehta Boys to arrive, offering a well-deserved cinematic experience.