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.
I started watching the Telugu film The Girlfriend with low expectations. I assumed it would be yet another romantic drama that glorifies toxic relationships and emotional manipulation in the name of love. To my surprise, the movie took a more thoughtful and layered route.
Minor spoilers ahead for context
The Girlfriend doesn’t just explore unhealthy love. It also dives into toxic parenting and how childhood conditioning shapes adult behaviour. The female lead is quiet, agreeable, and used to shrinking herself. The film makes it clear that her personality isn’t random. Her upbringing trained her to feel guilty for wanting space, choices, or independence. So when she picks a controlling partner, it feels strangely familiar to her. She’s not frightened of it at first, but she faces a tinge of uncertainty throughout. She tries to treat her partner’s behaviour towards her as normal because she has spent years adjusting to her father’s controlling behaviour. But deep down, there’s a quiet discomfort she can’t ignore. Something feels off, and her instincts begin to push back. This duality is what makes the character so different. This push and pull that many of us have experienced in our own relations with others who are not right for us.
The male lead, on the other hand, is aggressive, impulsive, and driven by ego. He worships Virat Kohli, maybe because he admires the cricketer’s aggressiveness and his devotion towards his wife, Anushka Sharma. He has a charming personality and enjoys a lot of attention. People around him like him, and he knows it. He’s used to getting what he wants, even in friendships. His behaviour reflects a narcissistic mindset where his needs come first, and empathy barely exists. Yet he remains popular, which feels very realistic. In real life, people like him often get the benefit of the doubt because their confidence and charm make them likable, even when behind closed doors, they’re not. This is why it’s often hard for someone with a narcissistic partner to justify leaving. People around them struggle to believe anything is wrong. The scene where he delivers that long, dramatic monologue in front of everyone when she ends the relationship is unforgettable and true to life. It’s an attempt to stage himself as the victim, even when he himself was the one in the relationship with the problematic dynamic.
When the movie shows the male lead’s mother, the pattern becomes clear. She mirrors the heroine’s personality. Anxious. Passive. Always accommodating. His father dominated the household, and his mother absorbed the behaviour without protest. In his partner, he doesn’t just see love. He sees a repetition of his family dynamic. In his own dysfunctional world, this is the definition of love.
This is what makes the film interesting. Many romantic movies in Indian cinema focus only on the lovers. But The Girlfriend highlights how family culture, parenting style, and generational trauma influence relationships. It reminds you that behaviour has context.
It made me think of my own past. My ex-husband had a similar attitude at home. I remember watching him take all his mother’s freshly washed clothes and throw them outside the house, onto the dirt-filled ground, just because she left them drying near the house’s entrance. She didn’t scold him. She didn’t even react. She simply smiled and picked them up to wash again. She later told me she was once abandoned on the roadside at night by her husband after an argument. She narrated it casually, as if it were normal. That’s when I understood why her son expected unquestioning loyalty and forgiveness from his own partner, me.
Watching the movie felt personal because it portrayed something many Indian families silently live with. Not abuse in the usual cinematic sense, but the subtle cycle of fear, guilt, silence, and acceptance.
I liked The Girlfriend mainly because of how honestly it handled the parenting angle. The performances were solid, especially from Rashmika Mandanna and Dheekshith Shetty. Their chemistry felt natural, and the relationship dynamics never felt exaggerated or forced. The emotional tension, confusion, fear, and hope all felt real. It’s rare to see an Indian movie explore love, trauma, and family influence with this level of subtlety. If you enjoy character-driven cinema with emotionally complex and layered characters, this one is worth watching.
The Girlfriend is streaming on Netflix and runs for 2 hours and 18 minutes.
I recently came to know that there is an Apple TV series based on Bonnie Garmus’s Lessons in Chemistry. Still, like many book lovers who believe the original story is always better than any adaptation, I chose to read the book first. And I am glad I did.
Lessons in Chemistry is warm, quirky, and emotional. It begins at a quick pace and later slows down to let the reader focus on how the characters are feeling. The fictional novel explores women empowerment, career, ambition, love, grief, and self discovery.
The story is about two unconventional scientists who view the world through logic. Their relationship feels unusual to others because their conversations revolve around research, experiments, and what most people would call nerdy banter. But the connection they feel with each other is real. They believe they are soulmates.
The female scientist eventually steps into an unexpected phase of her life and has to leave her career only to soon become the host of a cooking show. The show goes on to gain popularity dude to her unique, scientific approach towards food. She treats every recipe like a science experiment. She explains why each ingredient matters and the chemical composition that affects taste and cooking. This fresh perspective inspires her audience and transforms the way they think about cooking.
If you enjoy fiction that blends romance, feminism, science, and character driven storytelling, Lessons in Chemistry is worth adding to your reading list.
I also want to list some of my favourite thought-provoking quotes from the book. Hope you enjoy them as much as I did.
One thing I’ve learned, Calvin: people will always yearn for a simple solution to their complicated problems.
It’s a lot easier to have faith in something you can’t see, can’t touch, can’t explain, and can’t change, rather than to have faith in something you actually can.
From his own lessons, he knew repetition was important. The key was not to overdo the repetition—not to make it so tiresome that it actually had an inverse result and caused the student to forget. That was called boredom. According to Elizabeth, boredom was what was wrong with education today.
No wonder people didn’t understand animals. They could barely understand each other.
Having a baby, Elizabeth realized, was a little like living with a visitor from a distant planet. There was a certain amount of give and take as the visitor learned your ways and you learned theirs, but gradually their ways faded and your ways stuck. Which she found regrettable. Because unlike adults, her visitor never tired of even the smallest discovery; always saw the magic in the ordinary.
“What I find interesting about rowing,” Dr. Mason was saying, “is that it’s always done backwards. It’s almost as if the sport itself is trying to teach us not to get ahead of ourselves.” He opened his car door. “Actually, when you think about it, rowing is almost exactly like raising kids. Both require patience, endurance, strength, and commitment. And neither allow us to see where we’re going—only where we’ve been. I find that very reassuring, don’t you? Except for the flip-outs—of course. I could really do with fewer flip-outs.”
But as she read, she’d found herself wondering—did the artist ever get distracted? Ink an asp instead of a goat? And if so, did he have to let it stand? Probably. On the other hand, wasn’t that the very definition of life? Constant adaptations brought about by a series of never-ending mistakes?
“I don’t have hopes,” Mad explained, studying the address. “I have faith.” He looked at her in surprise. “Well, that’s a funny word to hear coming from you.” “How come?” “Because,” he said, “well, you know. Religion is based on faith.” “But you realize,” she said carefully, as if not to embarrass him further, “that faith isn’t based on religion. Right?”
“Whenever you start doubting yourself,” she said, turning back to the audience, “whenever you feel afraid, just remember. Courage is the root of change—and change is what we’re chemically designed to do. So when you wake up tomorrow, make this pledge. No more holding yourself back. No more subscribing to others’ opinions of what you can and cannot achieve. And no more allowing anyone to pigeonhole you into useless categories of sex, race, economic status, and religion. Do not allow your talents to lie dormant, ladies. Design your own future.
When you go home today, ask yourself what you will change. And then get started.”
When my mother heard Janhvi Kapoor speak Malayalam in Param Sundari, she said, “That’s how Tamilians in Kerala speak.” So I’m guessing Janhvi’s character in Param Sundari is meant to be Tamilian. She does say a line in Tamil at the beginning, which might be the clue.
Still, it’s odd that her ammavan (Renji Panicker) speaks flawless Malayalam, while his son Venu, who grew up in Kerala, speaks Malayalam with a Tamilian accent. Not exactly consistent. Maybe he picked it up from his best friend, Janhvi’s character?
You will have to make similar conclusions and cook up your own stories to stay at peace with several things in the movie.
What’s It About?
Param, a wealthy start-up enthusiast, heads to Kerala to prove to his father that his newly funded dating app is worth the investment. At a resort there, he meetsSundari, and a love story quietly begins to unfold.
Thoughts
If you ignore the stereotypes, the sardar friend’s racist jokes, and the painfully bad Malayalam, it’s actually not such a bad movie. The first word that catches you off guard is when they pronounce Alappuzha as “Aalapozi.” I’m not sure if it was intentional. But yeah, leave behind your brain while watching this one.
The real star, of course, is Kerala. My state has been beautifully captured from start to finish. So, kudos to the filmmakers for that.
Janhvi looks lovely and delivers a stronger performance than Sidharth Malhotra. He also looks way older than her in the movie.
The Monkey Dilemma 
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