Got the jackfruit?
Come, Sudhakar.
I've got the big daddy of jackfruits.
Come, see.
Did you get it peeled or no?
No.
The two of us will peel it.
You do it alone then...
Hello.
Haven't recognized him, it seems.
You didn't tell me you were bringing guests.
What's there to tell?
Look closely, you'll remember.
It's been a long while, right, Sarita?
You know who I am?
It's Sudhakar Mishra, MA Philosophy, gold medalist.
My best friend!
Oh!
Oh, my God!
He was the reason our wedding date was shifted.
This is Mumtaz, his sister-in-law.
Will you welcome them or do you want to catch up here?
No, come in.
Please, come.
Please, come in.
Oh, sister...
Sister...
-No more, please. -Eat, buddy.
You've outdone yourself, Sarita.
Is it a special occasion? So many dishes.
I just had a hunch you would bring someone along.
Sister...
surely the two of you met in a library or a bookshop.
I know him very well.
Where?
At a library.
She isn't great with philosophy, but excels in poetry much more than I do.
You must be a writer then?
I own a shop.
She has a goods shop.
Sarita, you must be working, right?
She's a physics lecturer at the university.
Oh, really?
She has a program coming out in the UGC next month.
The afternoon slot on the TV, you know? Yes, that one.
Sarita,
only your love story had substance.
The other couples separated after college.
Only these two got married.
I made a mistake that I'll never repeat.
I remember... that thin poetry notebook.
Three Feathers.
He wrote poems for Sarita in it.
And Sarita...
since my handwriting was better,
I was made to write the fair copy.
I know every page of your love story.
Your friend has become a grump now.
Really?
Penning poems for me is a thing of the past.
Hey, see...
I could write about you today too,
but the thing is, I now write satire.
Shall I write a satire about you?
See? He's gone from sonnet to satire.
There you go.
If you ask me to bring home peeled jackfruits every day,
that won't inspire poetry, right?
The jackfruit didn't turn up either.
Darling, don't ask me to love you Like I loved you before
I believed having you made life brighter
What grief could rival The grief of losing you
Your face makes springtime endless
Nothing is worth more in this world Than your beautiful eyes
If I win you, even fate will bow down--
Did you write this?
Oh, man!
These are Faiz Ahmed Faiz's words.
He sounds like a very unromantic person.
He wrote it for revolution, not a lover.
I'd rather peel the jackfruit...
and wash my hands of poetry.
Have more, buddy.
No, I'm done. Thank you.
Listen, and speak
From heart to heart The language of love
Listen, and speak
From heart to heart The language of love
Meet, and cherish
The sweetness of these trysts
Listen
Speak
Stumble or steady yourself
Love is the mischief of youth
Don’t get on that boat for safety
I love you Rasna.
For only those who drown in love Get across
Listen, and speak
From heart to heart The language of love
Deepu, wake up!
Deepu!
Wake up, child.
I see you everywhere I look
You're the light Shining through every face
I see you everywhere I look
You're the light Shining through every face
You intoxicate me
You are the embodiment of my dance
Sudhakar?
Hey, Akhtar.
Welcome. Just give me two minutes.
Uncle, we need this salwar-suit by tomorrow.
Mrs. Saxena has to attend a wedding.
She dropped it in yesterday and wants it ASAP.
Mrs. Saxena always has some wedding to attend.
Tell her I don't work ASAP. Got it?
If she wants it ASAP, she can go to Taufeeq who sews tents.
Buddy, I never thought about what to do. My father was a tailor so I became one.
What are you saying?
A gold medalist in philosophy should at least work as a teacher.
"I know that I do not know."
Don't talk rubbish.
I didn't study so I could get a job.
Then why?
To know that I do not know.
Either you can live rightly or you can live profitably.
Can I confess something?
I was very jealous of you in class.
You said a lot despite speaking less.
When you disappeared after university,
I was actually happy...
because I was second-best.
Then I became a lecturer,
life settled, etc.
But slowly I started missing your company...
and searched a lot for you.
Thank God that I've found you.
Uncle, a fly may fall into the tea.
So, what do you have in mind?
Can we do an English play?
Let's do a Shakespearean comedy.
Yes.
Good, so I'll go to the library. So, I'll see you guys at two?
-OK. -See you, beauteous.
Thanks, Abodh.
-Bye. -Bye.
-Who have you called? -Why?
Abodh is quite a talented performer.
That's alright,
but Abodh Chatterjee and Shakespeare?
-Not a good combination. -Why?
He'll speak English out of his ass
and even my Londoner uncle won't catch his accent. I'm out, Rashmi.
Subhash, please!
I can't do this.
Hey!
Piyush...
now what?
As You Like It.
"Ass You Like It?"
It's not, "Ass You Like It,"
it's As You Like It.
Why can't people pronounce simple words like banal, amateur or deity properly?
It's "as," you ass.
Subhash was right to get out.
-Guru, give me two fruits of labor. -What?
-Two bananas, man. -OK.
-"Thou shalt have one." -"Thou shalt have one?"
"Thou shalt have one."
Hey, Rashmi...
I searched the whole university, but no sign of you.
-And what do you want with me? -That's right.
Even if I made pickle of you, it'd be bitter.
I don't have time for all this rubbish.
OK, let's go have a cup of tea.
Look, Rashmi, you know I have a jovial nature.
Why take me seriously, buddy?
I'm not laughing.
But you must be feeling love?
Angad, give it.
Pity? Mercy?
Something?
Cracking jokes is a sign of intelligence, Rashmi!
-What are you looking at? -She's very upset with you.
"She's very upset with you."
Get lost.
How much does this cost?
Old Monk?
Fifteen rupees.
And the whole bottle?
Sixty rupees.
Why do people drink alcohol?
For pleasure.
Or to run away from life?
Do you remember Nietzsche's Übermensch concept?
Superman?
We should not take the support of alcohol and pity,
instead we should deal with life's problems and win.
Let me get drunk, buddy. I blabber this all day in the university.
-Cheers. -Cheers.
You used to wonder how I scored the gold medal, right?
I don't find philosophy to be rubbish.
I studied it to understand life,
not to impress a girl, or get a job.
And this tailoring business?
Is that what you wanted to do since childhood?
I had to do some kind of work, buddy.
Father had a tailor shop.
He was proud of me, whatever I did.
He never told me to get a job, or become an IAS officer--
-You could have become an IAS officer. -And then?
We'd be drinking in the Collector's residence.
Every person wastes his life trying to become someone.
Competitions, IAS,
Collector's residence...
He's always becoming something.
There's nothing called life.
The word is living.
Life is to be lived, flavorfully.
Don't look at life as a bargain -
experience it and enjoy it.
If you'll let me.
Drinking with you is a sin. You kill my buzz.
Ride it and check.
Don't complain later that I sold you scrap.
Not like this, buddy. Step aside.
It's a Mughal scooter -
it'll bow first,
you'll kick it...
and it'll curse you for it,
then it will quietly do as told all day.
You're really buying it?
I'm buying it for my son. He keeps insisting.
Tell your son...
to curse only me...
and not the Mughals.
Sir, there's something I always want to say to you.
Go ahead.
I don't really understand your jokes.
I mean, they don't make me laugh,
but you always laugh.
This idiot just smoothly insulted me.
Listen, the tea's getting cold!
-Yes. Please, come. -Let's go.
I'll answer your question over tea.
Come in, sir.
Mom, I'm going to the terrace!
-Deepu, you didn't greet him? -Hello.
Akhtar Sir, your house is more books than walls.
If it were up to me, I'd make an igloo of books and live in it.
Brother, he lives in that very igloo.
He only steps out when a friend like you visits.
-Please, come in and have tea. -Come.
Is your son old enough to get his license?
He failed his grade just recently.
How did you and Sarita meet?
It took blood, sweat, and tears.
You must have been the cause.
Ask her. She won't be able to deny it.
Her father was Head of the Philosophy Department,
so I had to get an M.A. in Philosophy after getting one in Urdu Literature.
So, you're a double M.A.?
No wonder people don't understand your jokes.
Only after I became a lecturer in the university
did her Muhammad bin Tughlaq father
give me her hand in marriage as a congratulatory sweet.
Be thankful that Muhammad bin Tughlaq agreed,
or else today you'd be Akhtar without Sarita.
These kind of friends really bother me.
They'll always ask the wrong questions,
and just won't stop laughing at your wife's average jokes.
This is the only decent friend he has.
Soya and fenugreek prices are soaring and the customers still bargain.
Why are you so irritated?
They'll buy stuff worth five rupees
and still expect coriander and green chilies worth 25 paise each for free.
Yes, well, even at my shop they want saree borders or hemming for free.
Does a customer ever think about how a poor person is to make ends meet?
This is the problem of the entire middle class, not just one person.
The entire middle class has third-class ideals.
No, that's not true, Mumtaz.
The middle class can afford honesty despite the poverty.
That's huge.
They manage to get their children educated and married
despite measly salaries and pensions.
But that money also goes into alcohol and whore houses.
That's true.
But that can also be seen from a different perspective.
It's a coping mechanism.
What's cope?
He's looking for means to bear the difficulties of life.
Alcohol momentarily helps a person forget the troubles in their life.
They earn ten times more than we do. What troubles can they have?
For them, a display of respectability is required.
Money has to be spent on weddings, festivals, get-togethers.
Who tells them to produce eight to ten children then?
Stuff them in a tiny house and then bargain everywhere else.
Where's the respectability there?
If it were up to me,
I'd halve the salary if a person has more than two children.
-What difference will that make? -The next four children won't be produced!
The korma is ready.
Don't you chew tobacco right before eating!
Not like you have to kiss me.
I said no!
I'm doing...
what did you call it?
Cope.
Mr. Akhtar!
Tomorrow is a Sunday.
We'll go watch a film.
Oh, no, Sarita. I've already fixed a plan with Sudhakar.
It's a nice film.
I won't get trapped.
Your favorite actor is starring in it.
Which film?
What does it matter?
Can I please bring Sudhakar with me?
I've already promised him.
Fine!
I'll also bring my friend with me!
Prabha? Of course.
No! Steve!
-Steve? -Yes.
Why?
Can't I have any male friends?
What does it matter to me?
I only care about seeing my favorite actor!
OK! Done!
Steve?
Why do you see off your pills down to your stomach?
Just watch, one day these pills will see you off.
Nobody can stop fate.
Right?
Life is fleeting, Uncle.
Stop blabbering, you'll mess up my calculations.
-What do you want? -200 rupees.
It's been months since we had a party under this roof...
I mean, in this house.
With your sympathies, my soul can be content.
Krishnamurti said, "The source of time is thought,
and the root cause of desire and pleasure is also thought."
-Meaning? -Don't even think about it.
You won't get a dime.
You can't take all this money with you to heaven.
And in any case, you'll be born naked in the next birth.
So, enjoy life a bit, spend some on yourself,
spend some on your nephews, Uncle dearest!
Stop it!
I didn't take you for such a miser.
You'll earn good karma by giving alcohol to a Brahmin.
My birthday is coming up and you won't give me two bottles of Old Monk?
Old Monk costs 60 rupees.
What a surprise.
Your knowledge of alcohol is quite up-to-date, Uncle.
However, you seem to be ignorant of the worldly news.
You can't chug the bottle just like that.
A little Thums Up is needed,
some kebabs and other delicacies
will be ordered. That is what will make the party.
-Give it, or he'll keep hounding you. -Correct.
Here, go die.
"Go die"?
That's your blessing for my birthday? "Go die"?
Say, "live long, party hard..."
Get lost!
Ma'am, is this chord OK?
It's not matching.
It's good.
This is Sunaina Garg. She plays the guitar really well.
But I hate her because she's snooty.
I hate her choice of songs, I hate her dress sense.
Just look at her.
What are you doing, buddy? Don't damage the cassette.
Not this song, brother Angad.
What's up with him?
Heartbreak. What else?
What's her name?
Mamta.
But it should have been "harsh".
Why?
Buddy, she's the treasurer of the Students' Forum of Lucknow.
How can such a beautiful girl be a communist?
Tomorrow onwards, you'll become a communist.
Brother, how can one turn communist in a day?
My dad owns three factories, I belong to such a big business family.
Tell me something, do I look like a communist?
Shontu, there is a formula for everything.
From tomorrow, you'll travel to and from university by bus.
And no more of this excessive bathing and cologne.
She'll run away from afar.
How could she? She's a communist, right?
They like these hungry, jobless, artist types.
They think of sweat as a scent.
And that'll impress her?
No...
You'll have to give speeches.
Speech?
Don't worry. Listen. I'll write them,
you'll speak them.
Brother, business dinners take place every day at home.
If I don't wear perfume, my father won't let me in.
That's fine, just stop going home.
Wow.
What great advice.
Tell me something,
can't a capitalist become a lover, too?
Capitalist lover.
Capitalist lover...
is an oxymoron, Shontu.
Like this Jain bodybuilder.
-She's having cake. Give me two seconds. -Hey, my glass--
It's OK, don't worry.
Don't stress. Drink up.
-No, I don't want it. You have it. -Mamta?
Hear me out!
Why are you so angry? Because I didn't do your play?
Fuck off.
I'm supposed to fuck off from my party?
Please, don't irritate me.
You had the cake, right?
At least, wish me...
I didn't come here for you but for the cake.
Such opportunistic behavior, buddy!
Naseeruddin Shah in this film?
Impossible.
She lied to me and brought me here.
No wonder she didn’t tell me the name of the film.
...I’ll give you and your men one last chance to run for your lives.
Thanks.
Where is he going?
What is this film?
I should not have brought him here!
Where is she going?
He ruined the entire film!
-Hello. -Hi.
So, what do you do?
I'm a tailor.
You're a tailor?
So, you must be liking this film a lot.
I teach Physics...
at the university with her.
Yes. But are you really a tailor?
I'm a gold medalist in Philosophy. I was in Akhtar's batch.
Then how come you're watching this film?
You should not let intelligence spoil a mindless film.
Can't you keep quiet and watch the film?
Isn't it nice?
I can’t tolerate this anymore.
Saved.
Just wait till we get home.