Movie Musings
#3: 8 A.M. Metro
Pritam, Ira, and their emotional baggage meet everyday on a Metro train — 8 am and 6 pm. First by accident, then by pretense, later by design and, finally by desire.
Can a man and woman, each married with kids, be just friends or acquaintances who can lend an ear when the other wants to say something?
The poignant lines written by Gulzar thematically underscores every moment on the screen.
“Pyar ko pyar he rehne do, koi naam na do (let love be love, don’t give it a name)
Haath se chuke ise ilzam na do (don’t touch it by hand, and accuse it of a relationship)”
Two married strangers meeting everyday in a metro — it has to be either love or murder in a cliché Bollywood scenario. However, it plays out exactly in the opposite end of the spectrum. They develop an unlikely friendship, that is neither love nor attraction. It’s about two hurting hearts finding the meaning of life and healing.
Sometimes, two people are
like ships passing by in the night
who meet once or twice by coincidence
and then never again.
Ira is married, and Pritam has a family, too, and that makes their bond questionable from the get go. However, the subtlety of the narrative eschews any suggestive physicality. If one has missed it, it gets to be stated at a later point in time when Ira herself questions why there cannot be a platonic relationship of complete honesty between a man and a woman.
8 A.M. Metro uses the modern transport system to explore an old-fashioned encounter between strangers. It uses Hindi books, poetry by Gulzar, and the director seamlessly weaves it through the characters who take it nice and easy.
The metro network, usually associated with speed and momentum, slows down to allow Ira and Pritam to get to know each another. They find common ground through the cerebral as well as the trivial. In the gentle rhythms of their encounters, the possibility of a new kind of companionship emerges. The two seek solace in books, poetry, and filter coffee. Especially, Ira’s love for filter coffee deeply resonated with me.
Life is lifeless without it,
Its an art in itself.
Some press too hard
and the decoction doesn’t brew.
Some press too gentle
and the decoction comes out thin.
Yet, no matter what, its fragrance
of each last drop is savored.
Before you know it, you’re meditating on it.
It makes you wonder, “Is this what art is?”
8 A.M. Metro invites you to have a conversation with its character. Perhaps, I’m that boy who’s lost in his phone in the background, while Preetam and Ira are slowly forming a bond. In a city so busy, the camera zooms into two people who look as normal as us and are doing jobs that are so close to ours. The movie finds its soul in the very fact that it is the story of ordinary people who haven’t achieved anything extraordinary in their lives.
In this suffocated humdrum of life, 8 A.M. Metro is a film that is filled with literature and lessons on life. It takes a subtle dig at how society looks at mental health. When Ira gets a panic attack, she is asked to ‘be strong’ and ‘get over it’. The movie also deals with social awkwardness that many have, but won’t seek help for the same.
At the onset of panic attacks,
a doubt arises in my mind…
Is it supposed to be lub 72, dub 72, or lub-dub 72?
The seamless movement of the poetry from the pen of Ira, nay Gulzar, is in itself a narrative built with what is best described by Pritam with accuracy as emotional, raw and pure.
A noteworthy aspect of the film is how shorn of melodrama, the script and dialogues take you to a meaningful climax. A thought-provoking one too.
This is not to say this is a perfect film. It is an honest film. The emotive picnic of the protagonist in the timeline of growing shadows of needless guilt will place 8 AM Metro as a celebration of relationships — particularly untouched by romance or physical attractions between the prime players.
This metro liner is not swanky or speedy, but if you care to look out of the window, you are sure to get a sub-aerial view of life, not to mention sometimes some folded corners, some creased areas, some deep traumas some hurt memories and some mirrored values.
I look around and imagine how many stories float around me in their tidy & untidy clothes, tired & active shoulders, and through the customary gaze that penetrates through the phone screens. The good, the bad & the ugly, of loss, of gain, of grief, and even greedy fantasies. 8 A.M. Metro isn’t just a movie that plays with your mind, but the story, in its very essence, captures your heart.
Happiness is different
for different people.
For a father in his last days,
a painless night of sleep.
For a wife, peace in her house.
For a husband, homemade dal and rice.
For the wounded, a trustworthy partner.
And for the disturbed, a tranquil mind…
