I watched Tamasha the other day on television and could finally (and gladly) let go of the regret of not catching its show in a nearby multiplex. I love the way Imtiaz Ali delves into the complexities of human nature and creates imperfect yet perfectly identifiable and lovable characters. Tamasha though, seemed a little far-fetched to me.
Ranbir Kapoor’s Ved had his own demons and challenges to face, but what struck me as odd was Deepika Padukone’s Tara. The Corsica setting, the closeness and the uninhibited candour were indeed the right ingredients for sparks to fly and fill her star-lit eyes with dreams of again accidentally running into the one person she felt deeply connected with.
While Ved reciprocates her feelings, the stark difference between the footloose and supremely confident on-vacation Ved and the almost non-existent sycophant she comes across in real life startles her. Yet, the charmed lady carries on with the relationship until she’s forced to break the this-isn’t-you news to him when he’s about to propose to her.
She’s heartbroken, in a dilemma, but still very much in love with him. When he calls her back after a few days she apologises to him (for telling the truth!) for touching a raw chord somewhere inside him. The insufferable guy however, rebukes her and simply takes off to demonstrate his mental instability in a series of disturbing events later at work and home.
But, like in any love story all’s well in the end since he has his Eureka! moment of illumination, finally realises how right she had been all the way and comes back to her. What does she do? She takes him back, because she loves him and cannot live without him. How simple, sweet and convenient!
What point is there to prove here? Does it mean that being in love silently implies that we’re bound to accept any kind of nonsense that’s thrown at us? Does being madly in love make us lose our self-respect? If this is the victory of love, then I’m obliged to ask if Ved would’ve done the same if Tara had gone nuts for some reason.