The tagline
of The Lunchbox asks - Can
you fall in love with someone you haven’t met?
The answer
is an emphatic yes! The movie not only tells us the story of this epistolary
romantic relationship but also makes us part of these people's lives. Nuanced
performances, a love that is extraordinary in its most ordinary form, this
Lunchbox satiates us with the delectable dish of human emotions of loneliness,
nostalgia, love and hope!
Replete with
eloquent silences, it speaks louder than any melodramatic movie and its
characters reach out to us in more ways than one. The movie's protagonists are ordinary people and their mundane lives.
Repetition, routine, monotony, loneliness, disillusionment and nostalgia are
pivotal and persistent. The characters get etched with such intricacy in our
hearts that we can relate to their simple day to lives and struggles. The
introvert Saajan, played by Irrfan Khan is awe inspiring. The depths of emotion
that this man can make one feel are beyond expression. He’s mostly quiet and
particular at work. An old man about to retire, coming to terms with his lonely
life. A loner. It is only when he interacts with Ila (Nimrat Kaur) that we get
a sneak peek of the different dimensions of his character – a man with inner
conflicts. Nostalgia gets the better of him as he misses his dead wife,
recalling the days when he would stand outside smoking, looking at his wife through the window while she laughed watching ‘Ye Jo Hai Zindagi’ on television. We too are hit by nostalgia as we
get glimpses of the old world charm through letters (sigh), old TV
series on DVD, songs played on Auntie’s cassettes, present throughout the movie.
In stark
contrast to the introvert Saajan is his junior Sheikh (brought to life by the
awesome Nawazuddin Siddiqui). His intruding ways and annoying presence in
Saajan’s life is frustrating initially. Gradually, as his character unfolds, he
turns into the most endearing character in the movie. His relationship with Mehrunissa - his
girlfriend (later wife) is beautiful. I loved the part when Saajan asks him for
how long have they been married and he answers nonchalantly with an innocence only natural
to people who can love with all their heart, saying that sometimes it seems
it’s been 25-35 years of togetherness, while at other times, it seems like they
just met yesterday. Sheikh might appear cheesy to some, but all I saw was a man
dripping of honesty and affection. It’s natural for an orphan who paved his way
out in the big bad world to long for the love of a guardian or a mentor he can
refer to as family. The friendship that the two men develop later is achingly
beautiful. Words don't suffice when I think of the sequence when Saajan is sitting in a taxi, about to leave from Sheikh's wedding (and later for Nashik). You can only know what I'm talking about if
you've seen the movie.
Ila, the
young housewife who’s trying hard to revive her marriage by taking extra effort
to cook delicious lunches for her husband with the help of her neighbour auntie. We
never get to see auntie. We only hear the lovely distinct voice of Bharti
Achrekar who helps Ila with cooking as well as relationship tips. Ila is
troubled and disillusioned but still full of hope. She wants to live in Bhutan
as the country seems as a promise of happiness (because her daughter was taught at school that Bhutan had something called Gross Domestic Happiness instead of GDP). She finds a confidante in
Saajan, a friend to share her agony, a person who understands loneliness, whose
words comfort her when there’s nothing left in her life to look forward to.
The movie
showcases Mumbai in a very significant way. The daily life of a city dweller, the
struggles, the aspirations, locals, dabbawallas, middle class families – these
are all aspects that bring the movie to life in very subtle ways.
What I loved
the most about The Lunchbox was the end. Unexpected. Abrupt. One is left
craving for more and smiling with a sense of wonder. Ritesh Batra’s debut is a heartwarming experience and certainly
one of the best movies this year.
