Saturday, April 4, 2026

Tere Ishk Mein — Of Fire, Love, Madness, and Salvation

Fire, love, madness, and salvation. These elements could describe either Aanand L. Rai's previous film, Atrangi Re, or his latest, Tere Ishk MeinIn Atrangi Re, a young Rinku (Sara Ali Khan) witnesses a horrifying tragedy. Her family sabotages a circus fire act performed by her father, Sajjad (Akshay Kumar), replacing artificial fuel with real gasoline. As he burns alive, her mother, Manjari (Sara Ali Khan), rushes to save him, and both perish in the flames. The trauma scars Rinku deeply. She begins to imagine her father as a romantic figure, a psychological coping mechanism rooted in unresolved grief. Vishu (Dhanush), a doctor, enters her life, not as a medical healer, but more as an emotional anchor, helping her confront and process her trauma. He eventually takes her father's place in her heart. Fire, love, madness, and salvation are seen in Tere Ishk Mein as well. Like Rinku, a young Shankar (Dhanush) witnesses his mother’s death in flames and is unable to save her. The guilt festers and manifests as inner torment burning him from the inside. Sab jagah jalta hun main. But where Rinku’s trauma manifests as delusion, Shankar's becomes violence. Salvation arrives in the form of the fittingly named Mukti (Kriti Sanon), a PhD student who, in her quest for research, believes love can be an antidote to violence. She uses Shankar as a guinea pig for her thesis. Her cool presence soothes Shankar's fractured psyche, and he falls in love with her. In her, he finds relief, "Tere saath hota hun to kam jalta hun."
Unlike Vishu, however, Mukti does not reciprocate her feelings for Shankar, leaving him unhinged and, at times, murderous. He explodes like Molotov cocktails and burns everything. Mukti continues to placate him in different ways without ever confessing love to him. Her politically connected father ragebaits him into becoming a civil servant. Shankar returns after years to Mukti, but she has moved on to someone else. Shankar becomes more unhinged. He invokes the words Rahul asked Pooja in Dil To Pagal Hai, "Tumne kabhi mujhe se pyaar kiya? Ek din, ek pal, ek second ke liye." Love cannot be forced, she tells him. He leaves but loses his father. He goes to Banaras and meets a Pandit who tells him to stop chasing Mukti. Let love come to you. He returns and curses Mukti that she should pay for her 'sins.' He leaves her life forever to join the Indian Air Force.
A switch turns on in Mukti, where she starts feeling guilt for what she did to Shankar. Mukti internalizes this guilt, and her life begins to unravel. She spirals into alcoholism. It is like her situation and Shankar's get reversed. Like he took to alcoholism, she started drinking. Her wedding collapses, and even her father suffers the consequences. Ultimately, she consents to marry Jasjeet (Paramvir Singh Cheema), an act shaped by this imposed guilt. She gets pregnant until an opportunity arises to meet Shankar again.
Guilt is a recurring motif in the films of Aanand L. Rai and Himanshu Sharma. In Raanjhanaa, Kundan (Dhanush) reveals Jasjeet's (Abhay Deol) identity to Zoya's (Sonam Kapoor) family, leading to his death. Overcome by remorse, he turns to spirituality, a journey captured in the song Tohe Piya Milenge. Moving between a gurudwara, a mandir, and a dargah, he searches for inner peace, only to be told by a wise man on the banks of the Ganga that solace cannot be found in stillness alone. He must act. This realization drives him back to Zoya, seeking forgiveness. A similar arc appears in Zero, where Bauua Singh (Shah Rukh Khan) grapples with the guilt of abandoning Aafia (Anushka Sharma). His remorse finds expression in the song Tanha Hua, where he sheds his material possessions—money and clothes—as if to purge himself of his past. What is noteworthy about guilt in Tere Ishk Mein is that it is no longer borne by Shankar but transferred onto Mukti. She is made to feel culpable for her emotional restraint for never confessing her love to Shankar. His reaction is accusatory. He imposes guilt upon her, symbolized when he throws Gangajal and curses her, asking her to atone for her sins. It is like that moment in Raanjhanaa when Kundan discovers that Zoya loves someone else. His immediate response is rage. He drives her into the Ganga as she breaks down, framing her love as a kind of sin. The women—Zoya and Mukti—have to be made pure because they have sinned by not loving the men back. The women are not allowed indifference; they must either reciprocate love or atone for rejecting it.
In the film's final moments, Mukti is made to pay even more for her sins. A pregnant Mukti bleeds all over the room. She is covered in her blood. She says, "Main khoon nikal rahi hun." In the final moments of Raanjhanaa, Kundan dies and spits blood from his mouth. Bindiya (Swara Bhaskar) says, "Mera Kundan khoon nahi thookta tha." Blood becomes currency; something the characters must pay to reconcile with guilt, whether earned or imposed.
The parallels between Raanjhanaa and Tere Ishk Mein are deliberate. The makers have positioned Tere Ishk Mein as a spiritual successor, and the film leans heavily into this lineage. In Raanjhanaa, Kundan falls in love with Zoya, but she does not reciprocate his feelings. He stalks her to force her to fall in love with her. Zoya leaves the town and returns after years. Kundan assumes that she will still be in love with him, but she has moved on and has fallen in love with Jasjeet. Kundan cannot accept this and takes some actions that lead to Jasjeet's death. The premise of Tere Ishk Mein is similar to that of Raanjhanaa, where Mukti does not reciprocate Shankar's love. After some events, Shankar disappears to study to become a civil servant, staying away from Mukti for years, under the assumption that she would be waiting for him. Mukti has moved on and is getting married to Jasjeet, a man who shares his name with Zoya's lover. In the end, like Kundan, Shankar also sacrifices his life for Mukti.
Like Raanjhanaa, Tere Ishk Mein is dedicated to Lord Mahadev and his beloved Ganga, and uses the same opening credit shot. At one point in Raanjhanaa, Kundan's friend Murari (Mohammed Zeeshan Ayyub) jokingly says, "Pyar naa hua UPSC ka exam ho gaya 10 saal se clear hi nhi ho raha." Shankar actually tries to become an UPSC officer. He disappears for a few years, but he manages to clear the exam. The first time Kundan sees Jasjeet’s dead body, he starts vomiting as if he has become sick. In almost a similar sequence, when Shankar discovers that Mutki is his psychiatrist, he runs out and throws up. When Shankar goes to Banaras for his father's funeral rites, he meets Murari, and the film explicitly acknowledges Raanjhanaa. On the banks of the Ganga, Murari talks about his friend Kundan. The background score in this scene has the beats of Tum Tak.
Early on in Tere Ishk Mein, there is a moment when Jasjeet meets Mukti for the first time. At that instance, a firecracker shoots past when they shake their hands. The firecracker was sent by Shankar. This moment foreshadows the film's climax, when Shankar becomes the firecracker, zooming past in his fighter jet to attack the enemy ship. Like Lord Shankar, who drank poison to save the world, Shankar sacrifices himself to save Mukti and Jasjeet.
The film's music is nice but apart from Deewana Deewana, no other song really stands out as memorable. Deewana Deewana reminds me of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's Saanson Ki Mala. Irshad Kamil's lyrics add to its beauty.

Sajna ke sajde mein rehne lage,
Aise toote doobe tum mein,
Hum khushbu hain, ya khushbu mein,
Dheeme dheeme mehakte jaage jaage.

I have begun living completely in worship of my beloved.
I have broken and drowned completely in you.
Am I the fragrance, or am I lost within the fragrance?
Slowly, I awaken, filled with a sweet scent.

I see the film as having three parts. The first half is about Shankar and Mukti's story. The second half is when Shankar clears the exam, his father dies, and then he becomes an officer. The third part is when they meet again, and the whole war sequence unfolds. I believe the film should have ended after the second part. He should have left and joined the Air Force, and then Mukti would have had to deal with her life. It is the third part that does not seem convincing. It feels like it adds little to the story. 
There are also narrative shortcuts that weaken the film's impact. Mukti’s transformation after Shankar's curse feels abrupt, as if triggered by a switch rather than developed through experience. Her descent into guilt lacks the psychological depth that the film demands. It was the same issue I remember writing about in Atrangi Re, where Vishu develops a life-changing love for Rinku in just three days. Similarly, Jasjeet remains underwritten, too passive, too detached from the emotional stakes.
There is always some bizarre element in the stories of Aanand L. Rai and Himanshu Sharma. In Atrangi Re, they depicted mental illness as a separate organ that could be thrown out of the body. When Rinku was left severely traumatized, she saw apparitions of her father. In Tere Ishk Mein, Shankar sees himself when he falls in love—Dancing Shankar. He appears when the girl appears. Later, like Rinku, he sees ghosts of Mukti and his father in Use Kehna. The film treats violence like the vestigial appendix, which can be thrown out of the body. The duo's films do not advocate any serious treatment of mental trauma and are mainly used as a narrative device, which is fine. The conflict arises because their films are too rooted in the milieu, yet also feature fantastical elements that are hard to reconcile with the lived-in reality of that milieu. For example, when Shankar comes back to pour Gangajal, a lady behind screams that it is acid. The film acknowledges the seriousness of the situation, so how, at the same time, can we, as an audience, feel for Shankar? This is what prevents their films from being fully embraced, despite some poignant touches. There is a point in the film when someone describes Shankar as "Outstanding, outrageous, out of hand." That is a perfect description of the duo's films. Part outstanding, part outrageous, and part out of hand.
Tere Ishk Mein demands that its characters burn. Sometimes for love, sometimes for guilt, and sometimes for sins. "Prem mein mrityu hai, mukti nahi," says Murari. In love, there is death, not liberation. And in this world, fire does not cleanse. It consumes.

Trivia:
There is mention of Shah Rukh Khan's Swades and Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham.

Other Reading:
1. On Atrangi ReLink
2. On RaanjhanaaLink

Dialogue of the Day:
"Prem me mrityu hai, mukti nahi."
Tere Ishk Mein

Thursday, January 1, 2026

2025 — A Year In Review

2025 has ended. 2026 has begun. It is that familiar season of year-end reviews. I have read many posts celebrating milestones, growth, and breakthroughs. I don't have much to add to that chorus. No significant shifts in my career, no meaningful changes in my personal life. Nothing dramatic to point to. I wouldn't say I'm unhappy. But I do feel… suspended. Existing more than living. And that quiet absence of momentum has felt a little soulless.

This was the first year since I started working that I did not take any time off. I did not feel like traveling. I get bored at places of natural beauty. I prefer cities, but I don't want to travel alone. I don't have any close friends left with whom I can go to places. Jo hain woh baat nahi karte. They have all become a little busy and a little mean. Anyway, I don't want to complain about people. Everyone has their life.

I have read a lot more books in the first half of the year. In the second half, I lost steam as the books I picked up were boring. One of the best books that I read this year was Exit Interview: The Life and Death of My Ambitious Career by Kristi Coulter. It is written by someone who used to work at the same place I work, and when I read it, I could relate to what she wrote. At so many places, I was like it has what has happened to me as well. It is funny and sad; those who work in tech would get what I mean here. I thought of writing her an email after I read it. The other books I really liked were Kashmir: Behind the Vale by MJ Akbar and Jugalbandi by Vinay Sitapati. I also read a lot (not books per se, but other material) on the Israel-Palestine conflict. I also read the court judgement in the Ram Mandir case, which mentions the entire history of the conflict, and is one of the most era-defining events in Indian history. There is so much to learn about history, and when one gets into the details, one tends to form one's own opinion rather than what everyone else asks one to think. I want to read more fiction. I could not finish Intermezzo by Sally Rooney. I am going to try to read more old classics. More books on humor. More books in Hindi.

I have a few posts about films in my drafts, but I have not published them. 2025 was another year of some decent and some good films, but not great ones. I haven't watched many, but The Mehta Boys, Dhoom Dhaam, Superboys of Malegaon, Metro In Dino, Aap Jaisa Koi, Saiyaara, Homebound, Raat Akeli Hai: The Bansal Murders, and Dhadak 2 were decent films. Dhadak 2 was far better than Homebound, which was a little boring. I have yet to watch Dhurandhar, Haq, Nishaanchi, Tere Ishq Mein, and Gustaakh Ishq, and will watch them soon. But again, from the ones I watched, I did not feel vowed by any of them. I miss those kinds of films. That may be why I don't feel like writing much about them. And another thing is, with age, I have become more pessimistic about them because I don't like the people associated with films. The more you read about them, the more you understand that they are not very nice people in real life. It includes all these big stars like Shah Rukh and all. I have never been a crazy fan of these guys anyway. I like films more because of the art itself. I am going to try to watch old films and write about them. One downside of not writing much is that I don't get any emails from strangers about a post I wrote about a film. I still get comments on some old posts, which is so lovely of them, but the frequency has dropped.
In terms of songs, I love love love Saiyaara's title song by Shreya Ghoshal. It is one of the most beautiful things for me this year. The way she sings, "Haaye main mar hi jaaun, jo tujhko na paun," carries a profound ache, followed by "Tujhko hee gaaun main, tujhko pukaaroon" and then she slips into that long, magical "oooon." I also really like Pardesiya from Param Sundari and Qayde Se from Metro In Dino. Qayde Se has beautiful poetry. The other top thing I listened to a lot more is the Hanuman Chalisa. When things don't work out in life, we turn to God for help. I keep thinking that something bad is going to happen to me, so I listen to it every day. I was never religious, but once I grew a bit older, I could understand why it provides a sense of hope; something to cling to when there is no one for you.

I have also focused on my health. I did not miss any workouts this year. I have gone five days a week throughout the year, except for one week in April, when I went only two days because I was absolutely miserable. I don't like hate going to the gym, but I have to do it for my own health. I have started logging my workouts. Every workout is approximately ~60,000 lbs (~30 tonnes). I have lifted 3,000 tonnes this year. But it's not been showing as much. My trainer, who helps me, keeps telling me to be patient and that it takes years to build a physique, so I hope it works out as he says it will.
I don't know about resolutions or anything. I want to feel more human in the new year. I don't like how dependent I have become on my phone and how I waste time on random, nonsensical things. I love to be informed about different things. I enjoy reading a variety of things, but watching short-form content isn't good for me. I want to do more deep dives, read more long-form, and simulate the brain more. I am planning to write about random topics on my Substack, the way I used to do here in the early 2010s. I would pick things from daily life and share my thoughts. I have also been researching courses on public policy, law, and ethics. But something stops me as I think about what the point is. Doing the course in itself will not change anything if I am not smart enough to put it into action. I want to do something different. I want to help people. I want to change lives for the good. Life is passing by, and I will do nothing. I don't want to waste my life. I want something to accomplish. Let's see where life takes in 2026. I leave with this thought by Paras Chopra. Happy New Year!

"Once you overcome your desire to compete with others, you can actually just sit back and enjoy the outcomes that others compete to produce for you. Read great books, watch interesting movies, dance to the music, use latest gadgets, and eat good food. Let others compete hard to let you enjoy these things, while you do what you find most fun. It could be tending to your garden, working at a sensible pace, making coffee, building tiny weird games, or whatever else makes you come alive.

I hear you ask: won’t society collapse if everyone did this? I’d argue the opposite. If everyone did what they find most fulfilling, our net happiness will rise. Artifacts useful to the society will still be produced, except with less anxiety and burnout. People will still write books, but without an intent of it trying to be a bestseller but with an intent of honing and enjoying their craft.

In this world, greatness will still occur without being aimed for. Everyone will chase butterflies of their curiosity and do things for their own sake instead of hustling to be on the top. People will stop playing finite games, but focus entirely on creating infinite games with their lives."