Basic premise: Kareena is a typical traditional “Indian girl” whose only aspiration in life is to get married, have children and see her husband off to work everyday. Her only condition a) He shouldn’t smoke b) He shouldn’t drink and c) He should never lie. After a tarot card reader tells her that she will meet her dream man on foreign shores, near a water body, at 7 o’clock in the morning, wearing multi-colored (exactly seven) clothes, Kareena waits for the prophecy to come true.
And believe it or not, as ‘destiny’ would have it and with a little bit of manipulation (from the hero, who falls in love with her the moment he sees her ephemeral sleeping face in the moonlight), she finds her Prince Charming playing the guitar on the seashore precisely at 7 am in the morning, wearing exactly what he is supposed to.
So where’s the conflict in the plot? Shahid, who looks like he hasn’t even grown facial hair yet, smokes like a chimney, drinks like a fish and doesn’t even blink an eyelid before lying. It doesn’t take too long for then-not-size-zero Bebo to know that her Mr. Right is obviously all wrong but our hero is a changed man by then. She has none of it and in her bid to ‘test’ destiny, she figures out the most bizarre plot-contraptions possible to verify whether they are actually made for each other.
Post interval, we are suddenly fast forwarded to 3 years later, I don’t know if I missed a subtitle that said so but we are somehow informed about the elapsed time. By now, Bebo is engaged to marry this most frightening looking man and Shahid’s very loving father has announced his engagement to Aarti Chhabria without the groom’s consent.
So here we have this implausible situation the lovers have to overcome. They were in love for all of five days, they haven’t as much as seen or heard from each other in three years and they decide to give their love one last chance just a week before they are supposed to marry their respective significant others. (By this time I wanted to actually beg my friend who had accompanied me to the theatre to strangle me to death).
There is nothing more to be said, except that in the three years that had passed, time had stood still and Bebo’s dirty golden tresses hadn’t even faded a shade. Till interval I couldn’t figure out what was Shahid’s name in the film; for some absurd reason he is called Immy.
I can’t recollect one dialogue, one moment from the film that was pleasant. The less said about Himesh Reshammiya’s pre-surgery nasal playback singing and music the better. The director, Satish Kaushik’s cameo and blatant pandering to Muslim viewers’ sentiments (a standard device in movies of the ‘80s) made me cringe.
I will run out of synonyms but I still wouldn’t be able to completely convey how predictable, clichéd and implausible the film is. The least Boney Kapoor could have done for the audience who willfully subjected themselves to the torture of watching this film, was to have a kiosk just outside the theatre that doled out free Disprins. Source:
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