Why it’s hard to get over SRK-Kuch Kuch Hota Hai despite flaws
I have been aware of problematic themes of Kuch Kuch Hota Hai for a long time. For one, I cannot get over the fact that Rahul (Shah Raukh Khan) landed in Anjali’s (Kajol’s) life after all those years and she called off her wedding at the last minute — literally at the last minute — and her to-be husband (Aman played by Salman Khan) helped the two of them get together.
I understand it was their idea of a happy ending and lovers finding their way to each other after crossing the world but I can’t stop thinking about the weirdness of the situation. After all those years, the two of them just ran into each other’s lives and SRK pursued Kajol despite knowing she’d moved on and was about to be married.
The film enforces the idea that the woman will fall head over heels for you even if you (re)enter their lives — with a teenage daughter for God’s sake. The fact that SRK remains more or less the same boyish energetic Rahul throughout whereas the women in the film from Kajol to his own mother (and even his teenage daughter!) mature over the years and come to terms with the years that have gone by feels like a popular culture trope where men get away with being immature or a manchild and the onus of ‘reforming’ them falls on the woman.
There is another interesting aspect to the story. Rahul is a single-father to Anjali — the daughter named after his college best friend. By all the depictions, he is a devoted father who literally runs across the country to be with his daughter at the slightest idea she is sick. In a way, he too has seen pain and hardships beyond his years — he lost his wife and raised their daughter by himself. It need not be emphasised that single-parenting is tough in India — to use a very sober word.
SRK was a flawed friend, definitely a flawed lover, but he certainly felt like a decent father.
It was also among the earliest depictions of single-fathers if I am not wrong — chances are I’d be wrong. It was a minor plot-point and it was never over-emphasised. In not over-emphasising his single-parenting, the act that a father (or a parent) could raise a child on their own kind of normalised single-parenting.
Enough fanboying — less on Rahul, more on SRK. There are obviously more flaws in the film. I can’t get over the ‘basketball scene’ in the second half where SRK clearly had an edge in the game. For fuck’s sake, he was playing in relatively-comfortable clothes and Kajol was in a sari. Yes, I have read “women can conquer the world in a sari” posts but I am sure a basketball game between a man in pants and a woman in a sari that restricts physical movement is very uneven.
Moreover, the entire argument that females can’t be good at the game is downright sexist. That he did this despite having been beaten by Kajol in college just makes it worse.
As if that was not enough, the part where SRK undid Kajol’s sari is…I don’t know, just so fucked up? The man was a pure jerk at that point.
If I end up being around my female college best friend after more than 10 years of being apart and one of the first things I do is to undo her sari, I am sure the place I’d be going to would be a police station, not her heart. But then I am not Rahul/SRK and my story is not dictated by Karan Johar.
I am sure there are more flaws with the film. A film critic or a feminist writer may address them better. But there is still something in the film that drives people to watch it, including those who recognise its many flaws. Is it our nature to just overlook the flaws in general? Or is it our acceptance of the jerk that Rahul is in the film?
(By the “feminist writer” part, I meant a writer specialising in feminist writings. I didn’t mean I don’t support gender equality or the feminist movement.)
I have come to believe we (or at least I to an extent) like the film because of the charm of SRK and the story. I also understand it’s a film to charm you and to let you into an unreal world where the entire world (or at least your mother, daughter, and love-interest’s to-be husband) conspires to bring you together with your long-lost love after making you realise she is the one.
How do you not fall for the idea that things work out just fine in the end?
Most of us identify with the lead actors. How do you not fall for a story that makes lead actors realise that they are in love and are made for each other? How do you not like a happy ending where unrequited love materialises?
You can of course say no to all of these points. But you also know it’s easy to fall for and be charmed by these points. And we want to be charmed. It’s a film for entertainment, a Bollywood love story at that. It’s not a documentary. It’s not a drama that explores ‘deep’ themes. It’s there to charm you. It’s there to give you a fantasy, an unreal word, an unreal relationship, an unreal build-up and of course some very memorable dialogues. It’s a recipe to fall for — certainly not as ‘How to live your life 101’ textbook but certainly as two hours of entertainment.
I understand a film shapes people’s thoughts and perceptions (and of course fashion) and filmmakers ought to be responsible with their content. But I also understand that it’s an ongoing debate and this ‘responsible portrayal’ issues continue to this date. I also understand a filmmaker is not primarily concerned with a moral values lesson and I hope viewers are mature enough to understand that. I hope more and more viewers understand it’s not okay to undo a woman’s sari or to crash into a woman’s life after 12 years and expect her to fall in love with you all over again. It doesn’t happen in real life. It can happen (anything can happen, right?) but you shouldn’t count on it.
I don’t mean to justify any flaw in the film or the character. I just want to explain why the film draws people. The film has an appeal. And I have not even touched the songs and the music.
“Tujhe yaad na meri aayi…” remains the go-to heart-break song and that SRK’s whistle remains the ring tone of so many people. I admit it was my ring tone at one point and I also admit I still stop and skip a few beats when I listen to it anywhere, mostly at my neighbourhood barber shop. “Ye kaisa ladka hai, ye kaisi ladki hai…” brings to life the two “deewana-deewani” as yin-yang to their stories, how polar opposites might be more complementary to each other than being mere opposites. Also, the way they describe each other as only someone who knows you inside-out (like a best friend?) could.
This is perhaps the reason I went gaga when I met Sameer Anjaan in Delhi — Anjaan wrote songs of the film. I don’t have a photo with him. My mother does.
The pop-culture has also inserted this (very questionable) notion into our psyche — the idea of falling for your best friend. It’s kind of very easy to fall for a film in which best friends of opposite genders fall for each other, lose out in the scheme of life, but find their way to each other in a grand universal conspiracy. It’s so easy to fall for such a story even without the best friend angle. People are suckers for happy endings. I am.
The greatest element for me and for a lot of other people is SRK — the boyish energy, the romantic air that rushes in every time he comes on screen, and the blend of comedy and emotions that no one else can emulate. (I dropped a fanboy alert, right?) Who else can make going to his daughter an adventure with a climax — that scene of him running through the air to tear through the door shouting her name? Who but SRK and Dharma with Raghupati Raghav Raja Ram in the background.
It’s so easy to fall for this film because it clicks with most of the desires like happy endings and star-crossed lovers ending up together that so many people carry. Moreover, the title and a moment in the film captures the fluttering of the heart so well — kuch kuch hota hai. What’s that kuch kuch? You can’t describe it until it happens to you. As in Main Hu Na, another SRK hit, you don’t know what it means for violins and saxophones to play in the background until it happens to you. Kuch kuch hota hai is such a simple yet true way for the feeling you can often not put in words.
Also — “Pyaar dosti hai. Agar wo meri sabse acchi dost nahi ho sakti, to main usse pyaar bhi nahi kar sakta hai — Love is friendship. If she cannot be my best friend, I can’t be in love with her.”
By this logic, SRK should have fallen for Kajol instead of Tina (Rani Mukherji). It was of course conventional to fall for the girly Tina rather than the sporty and unconventional Kajol who wore boyish clothes, played basketball, and was delegated to the best friend stage. (Let’s admit it, many people refer to their crushes and people they want to be with secretly as “girl/boy best friends”.) But SRK did end up being together with Kajol in the end. That’s it. The happy ending. The lovers finding their way to each other. The universe conspiring to get them together. This is how people fall for this film again and again.
No, this is not a puff piece on SRK in light of the ongoing developments to bolster his image. He does not need any image-building anyway. He is who he is. Though I am open to puff pieces. Of course paid. Compensation is preferred as a 3BHK in Meerut, likely in Saket or Defene Colony. An Old Grant Bungalow in Cantonment might also do. In extreme cases, a 3BHK in Delhi would also do. Of course, Delhi means South Delhi. Vasant Kunj or Vasant Vihar.
