Date: 12th March, 2025
Time: 3:47 pm
Mood: Periods, i.e., high stakes, erratic. This could go anywhere
Set up: Heater on my stomach, obnoxiously sweet Vietnamese coffee on my side, I want to take a Meftal, but somebody said it causes cancer. I take it anyway.
Topic of discussion: Best Friends' bad date
Another bad date, another rant.
17 minutes into the conversation, emotions are free-flowing, and it’s evolved into something else as it always does.
“What a privilege it is to have your girlfriends just show up for you in all things real, delusional, even when I fuck up and say I’m okay... Like, you guys crashed my fucking surgery.” (For context: It was a tiny one so dw)
I thought about how these friendships are and always have been this strange, ever-looming love that is constantly dispelling. How wild it is to find girlfriends who will always show up in a city as bustling as Mumbai.
We’ve been in Bombay for over a hot second and in each other's lives even longer.
Which brings me to what this column is actually about. It’s a journal that you don’t need to read because it will not change your life in any way, but you can if you want to deep dive into the vulnerabilities of a very confused mind. I consume the world around me emotionally, so I’m writing about it emotionally whilst gaslighting imposter syndrome because, at some point, you’ve got to.
Today,
We analyze films.
For Indian cinema, three films brought together this article for me, namely Girls Will Be Girls, Laapata Ladies, and All We Imagine as Light. I won’t deep dive into the technicalities of these films—there are people out there with more informed analysis of all of that. To me, it’s the idea of womanhood that shone through in each of these stories.
Girls Will Be Girls starts off on what feels like the nostalgia of a first romance. It’s endearing, makes you feel stupidly giggly as you recount watching Paranormal Activity 3 because you wanted your crush to hold your hand (may or may not be based off true events). It slowly shifts your gaze to the deeply layered mother-and-daughter relationship that, in moments, has you feeling so uneasy. It dawned on me by the end (Disclaimer: I cried) that much like life, we see everything from the daughter’s POV—a distorted perception for the user that remains honest to her struggle with adolescence. What struck, and will stay, is how the mother, essayed by Kani Kusruti, forced us to perceive mothers beyond the weight of the label of ‘a mother’. Seldom do we see our mothers for the people they are: complex, flawed, with desires of their own. A 50-year-old woman once told me that her biggest struggle with aging was how you start becoming invisible as a woman growing older. After being objectified for all things superficial your whole life, at one point, you disappear.
Maybe it is in the disappearance that you find yourself; maybe it’s then that we, as women, truly stop giving a shit.
All We Imagine as Light drew me in like the smell of wet mud, petrol, and mehendi (No, I will not be rationalizing mehendi). Essentially, it felt like an invitation to see womanhood in all its intimacy and breathe through it. The film took up space, something we all struggle to do. It wasn’t trying to be cool or more—it just was. If I had to be a physical manifestation of a film, I would like to be this—soft, kind, vulnerable, with just enough magic to hold on to. The lives of three women, distinct in their perceptions, problems, and life—united by shared space—somehow caress each other's chaos in all the in-betweens.
Personally, I adore how so much of the film is in the tiniest moments and subtle changes in body language, and nothing makes me smile more than women and giddy, uninhibited laughter.
It is an ode to friendship in the personification of a city like Mumbai, which will forever take me back to the hug of a friend after a 4 am hysterical call.
Before I speak about Laapata Ladies, I must first confess the distaste I possessed for the idea of femininity. Somehow, the world around us associated it with weakness, submission, and something to be looked down upon. I discovered feminism and almost subconsciously, and a little ironically, continued to pander to male validation—except this time for my grades, my work, my worth. As I observed my mother, this incredible housewife who made me the person I am, I was reminded of how femininity has actually always spoken of resilience and strength. How truly mortifying it was to equate it to how the patriarchy packaged it and placed it in front of me.
My holier-than-thou conditioning finally humbled, Laapata Ladies is a gentle nudge for you and me. It speaks of resilience and strength, but also holding onto kindness through it all. It allows for love to move you in more ways than one, and what a relief to know, it’s not always the romantic kind. I distinctly remember my father watching and enjoying the film, and I think for now, that’s enough.
As I complete this, we’re a few days down the line. I’m not on my period anymore, but my heart is still an overwhelming blub of something, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
In conclusion, these are films that allow women to be. It seems basic, and I hope one day we acknowledge that it is basic. Turns out, the future is indeed female.