Almost Pyaar with DJ Mohabbat is Anurag distilling love through a Gen-Z lens

Surabhi Mathur
TheFilmProfileBlog
Published in
8 min readFeb 4, 2023

‘Mohabbat kya hai…kyun hai…kahan hai?’ Once SRK asked this very question in the opening credits of the film Dil Toh Pagal Hai.

It’s no coincidence that Alaya’s character in the film asks the same question at one point, to her fellow Tingtongians. Because even after so many years, we’re still looking for this elusive black cat, be it on Tinder, or in that stranger who sits across you in the metro, every day on your way to work.

And, Almost Pyaar with DJ Mohabbat seems to be a fitting answer to that question, coming almost 25 years late, but with an assurance that we won’t ask this question for many years to come. Because a genius man named Anurag Kashyap has finally cracked the code to this mysterious door, which for some reason always has a bada sa taala on it. And, he has generously handed us the key to it.

Now, it’s on you and me, to unlock it, and explore.

Set in two split worlds, Almost Pyaar…has one love story playing out in Dalhousie, and the other one in London. But, for unknown reasons, in both the worlds, we have the same protagonists. Alaya F plays Amrita, the school-going, cute girl from Dalhousie, with a digital alter ego named Sundar Saloni Ammi, who wears burkha, and does/says things which her regular homely identity cannot, given her family’s favourite hobby — emotional repression. She also plays Ayesha, the entitled/spoilt daughter of a wealthy Pakistani businessman, based out of London.

Alaya F nails both of them, and is someone we’ve loved ever since her debut Jawaani Jaaneman. Her range is stupendous. Watch out for her!

In sharp contrast from Amrita, Ayesha is bold, maybe too bold for her own good. She wears western outfits, parties, hangs out in well-known clubs, drinks alcohol, hates on her family, yet freely uses the privileges it guarantees. She feels a ghanghor connection with Harmeet, a budding DJ, played by the very refreshing Karan Mehta, whose double debut, has truly caught everyone’s attention. But as reel life would have it, despite her best attempts, she fails at catching his attention, as Harmeet isn’t there at all. He has lost touch with himself so severely, that when he walks on the streets of London, it’s just him, subversively using his Airpods to escape the world around. Honestly, his life can be contained inside a tiny box, called comfort zone.

He says all he wants is music, but does music want him, the way he is?

In the other world, Harmeet metamorphoses into Yakub, the Muslim guy who walks a few steps behind Amrita, every morning on her way to school, hands her lollipops, sells her dreams of taking her to DJ Mohabbat’s concert, doesn’t fully understand the gyaan/fundas she is habitual of giving, but says lines like ‘jo bhi bolti ho, tagda bolti ho’, and in turn, entertains her with his sahi bakwaas. If innocence had a face, it would be Yakub’s. But he is unaware of the fact that sometimes, innocence too, can be fatal.

These two stories, criss-cross through the 2-hour long screenplay, adding such beautiful layers to the story, you can almost call it a decadent 8-tier chocolate cake, with Amit Trivedi’s music being the cherry on top. In fact, it’s an Amit Trivedi musical, an 8-song long album with the heartbeat of the youth pulsating through it. The beats are so unique, yet rooted, you feel you’ve heard them somewhere, but they magically sound brand new. The magic is what happens when two people like AK and Amit Trivedi come together, because they too have a ghanghor connection. It’s an audio treat, and after watching the film, we understand the artistic choice behind every song, and every line.

Shellee, the 53 year old writer/lyricist who has written these songs surprisingly knows what the Gen-Z want. You can’t write lines like Bas chill karna inka mazhab hai without that essential empathetic bone in your body, that sees the youth as they are, without any bias, feeling their pangs, hurt, and highs, as fully as someone going through it would feel. This is an album that will be heard and loved even more, in the years to come. Because even though the generation changes, the feeling remains timeless.

And this is actually the biggest trump card played by Anurag Kashyap in the film, by skillfully using tropes like religion, same-sex love, and insidious patriarchy, and even Gen-Z to a small extent, to tell a timeless tale about love. He gives the ‘surface audience’ that much needed surface to stand on, with the love jihad angle, or the gay dad angle, so they don’t topple head over heels, watching this layered story, which is capable of pulling the rug of hate and bias they so confidently stand on, from under their feet.

If only they dare to see.

What we see on screen, from the first frame, till the last, is what Anurag wants us to see. His choice of frames is surprising at first, showing us two people just eating noodles, or walking in the middle of nowhere, or the girl in London on an endless shopping spree, wearing a stolen hoodie. But, every scene has an emotion coded in the back end, capable of transporting you to your own youth, which may be a blur now, but is a memory so potent, it can cure a dazed living. It can also bring you a new appreciation for the youth of today, going through the same things you once went through, albeit in a different context and love language — Netflix & Chill.

The screenplay is taut, with no excess fat anywhere, making it a lean, yet layered storytelling. I felt as if I had lived a lifetime in those two hours, and even went again, making it 4 hours of sheer joy. The editing by Konark Saxena reminded me of the Rabia khala whom DJ Mohabbat talks about, who used to stitch torn clothes, just the way he has sewn the footages into this beautiful piece of art, which will be remembered, more so in the coming times.

Can we rename Anurag Kashyap from simply a director to something more worthy? How about feel capturer? The scenes set in Dalhousie, where we see the young love of Yakub and Amrita unfold are simply mesmerizing. Through those scenes, he has captured that special essence, which is almost like the morning dew, ephemeral, but magical to those who witness it. Take the scene where Yakub is getting hot aloo parathas packed for Amrita and himself. The dazed yet rushed manner in which he pays the shopkeeper, runs towards the house, and takes out the steel plate from the kitchen cabinet had me jaw-dropped, in absolute awe of this director, who has dug deep, to find that raw feeling of when you’re young, in love, and the whole world around you is merely a vehicle, to reach that love. Transcendent is the word.

Watching Almost Pyaar…felt like someone pulled me in a corner, to show me a gleaming memory from the past, which I’d have almost missed if not for this person. Because, that’s what happens when life gets into the third gear. Things and memories from the past become a blur, and you almost feel as if you’re just this person, who’s writing this piece, at this moment. Nothing more, nothing less.

But then, an emotional cyclone comes, in the form of this film, and lays bare everything you had once bundled up, and put in the depths of the car trunk, while moving forward without a pit stop.

Almost Pyaar…is the distance between the ‘idea’ of love, and knowing it in your bones. The youth is by nature naive, to the insidious nature of systems, formed over generations, to keep their spirit in chains. Take their phones away, lock them up, sweet-talk with them, or feed them endless plates of dal chawal, but you cannot break those, who are ready to be vulnerable enough to walk into the cyclone of love, not bothered about the consequences. Because, as DJ Mohabbat rightly said in the film

Vulnerability woh sardi ki dhoop hai, jab shaam hoti hai, toh pata chalta hai ki poore din zinda toh isi dhoop ki wajah se the.

But, to reach the metaphorical DJ Mohabbat, you have to cross many obstacles, the biggest being yourself. It can sometimes take years, but the journey is worth it, when you finally hear that elusive mohabbat ka music, in the end, and realise what that kranti actually means. It’s when you learn to take the blows of life, or stand up for yourself, or leave behind the ‘idea’ of life, and realise what it actually is.

It will break you, but also make you tough on the inside. It will take away your innocence, but also make you decisive. It will kill you, but also bring you to life. It will be dark, but you’ll finally be able to see the black cat.

Because, mohabbat tab hai, jab tu hai.

Just the mere fact that his film is playing in the theatres, and I’ve caught two back-to-back shows, split between the late-night show, and the early-morning show, shows how much mohabbat I have for this man. And, after watching Almost Pyaar…this feeling has gone up tremendously. So much so, that if I ever catch him walking around in Versova (if he comes out of his home, that is), I will just hug him for 5 minutes non-stop!

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