Ajeeb Daastaans Review : The complexities of life served with honesty; some work while others fail

STORY: This anthology touches upon the subject of underlying sadness in loveless marriages, broken hearts and secret identities, caste barriers and gender biases, and, most importantly, how silent love conquers one and all.

REVIEW: ‘Ajeeb Daastaans’, as the title suggests, is heavily invested in the ‘big reveal’ or rendering shock value to all its stories—and there are four of them—and the anthology opens with the first snippet ‘Majnu’ by Shashank Khaitan. A much younger and sexually liberated Lipakshi (Fatima Sana Shaikh) is married to emotionally and physically unavailable local goon Babloo bhaiya. She is a lonely princess—of political nature—stuck eternally in her majestic mansion. Until an MBA graduate, Raj Kumar (Armaan Ralhan) shows up at their doorstep and Lipakshi gets into a steamy affair with him. Theirs is a whirlwind romance but one that would liberate the two: he from all that his father has done for an ungrateful Babloo, and Lipakshi, from Babloo himself. Clearly, Shashank Khaitan wanted to highlight the grim reality that constitute convenience marriages and political liaisons but his characters and their emotional connect (or the lack of it) doesn’t come off as genuine. Jaideep Ahlawat is frying penises of men for hitting on a wife he doesn’t care about, Fatima Sana Shaikh is head over heels in love with a man she—quite evidently—has no real on-screen chemistry with. Khaitan’s ‘Majnu’ is a rushed tale of love and revenge with no rounded characters and little visual and cinematic appeal. It is cack-handed and lacks gravitas whatsoever.

The second story by Raj Mehta—titled ‘Khilauna’— is a major deviation from its predecessor and delves deep into socio-economic concerns that have been prevalent in the community for ages. Two orphaned yet expedient sisters are upset over the new neighbourhood secretary for disconnecting electricity which they had sourced through illegal means. The soon-to-be-daddy has eyes on Meenal (Nushrat Bharucha) and the lady knows it. The younger and chirpy sister Binny (Inayat Verma) is that little monster in disguise that carries out everyday scams with Meenal like a pro. Meenal wants a way in to the secretary’s house so that she can eventually convince him to reconsider her repeated pleas for electricity. Her boyfriend Sushil (Abhishek Banerjee) from the laundry shop is sceptical about the plan. “Kya hi kar lega? Uske gharme biwi hain. Dekhta hai toh dekhne de,” Meenal assures him. Raj Mehta has an interesting take on India’s class distinction and the mistreatment and unspoken tension that is rampant between haves and have-nots. Unlike the first story, this one takes its own sweet time to establish the uniqueness of each character. If Meenal is sly and an unabashed opportunist, then Binny is her able second-in-command. Sushil, on the othr handis a love-struck puppy and represents that class of men who submit to their oppressors. The climax, which is again served as a ‘startling revelation’, is one that’s well thought out and gives the audience something to ponder upon.

Neeraj Ghaywan’s ‘Geeli Pucchi’ is a complete knockout in this anthology. Ghaywan, through skilled writing and even clever direction, brings forth the plight of a woman living in an unfair world: first, for being a woman in a male-dominated factory, then for being Dalit and then for choosing to undaunted. Ghaywan must have known he is creating something extraordinarily impactful, which is a powerful actor like Konkona Sen Sharma is entrusted with the battered-but-not-broken Bharti Mandal. Ghyan marries the loneliness of Bharti with a seemingly chirpy and upbeat Priya Sharma (Aditi Rao Hydari) whose privileged life and upbringing is a stark contrast to the life of hardships Bharti endures. Loses out on the promotion to Priya for not ‘knowing excel’, her pet is not allowed to poop on ‘their’ side of the colony and she is not even seen or acknowledged as a woman. It doesn’t help either that Bharti is pining for her former lover.

What really stands out in this story is that there are no messiahs or saviours in Bharti’s story: the same Dalit woman who is treated harshly for A) being a woman, and B) for being a Dalit. Ghaywan’s Meela is a strong, feisty lady with shades of grey to her persona. She doesn’t hanker after the one who breaks her heart, instead, employs deceit and manipulation to snatch what should have been hers in the first place. This kind of bold depiction of a woman from a marginalised community could have gone horribly wrong but the storytelling is so organically gripping that towards the end you almost want Bharti to destroy Priya. Not for being conniving, no. But for snubbing her for being, well, her.

There are very few actresses who can emote their inner turmoil with just their face muscles the way Konkona can. ‘Geeli Pucchi’ is no different. Aditi Rao Hydari has her own battles as the privileged kid who doesn’t know how to love: both literally and figuratively. The actress, with her ever-so-charming demeanour and childlike innocence, portrays a different kind of picture for struggle: patriarchy, lack of understanding of her sexual identity and what not. This story moves from one glaring societal issue to another with sheer smoothness and before you know it, you have seen it all in a matter of close to 30 minutes.

The final act is by debutant director Kayoze Irani who transports you into the world of love ballads and whimsical art and artists all the while keeping you in touch with the harsh realities of life and love. Natasha (Shefali Shah) is in a dysfunctional marriage and has a deaf daughter. The husband (Tota Roy Chowdhury) is working hard to provide for his specially-abled daughter and maybe come up with a technology-based solution. But the couple fights and argues about missed dinners and WhatsApp chats, among other repairable issues in their marriage. She tells Kabir (Manav Kaul), a deaf painter, she had ‘one serious relationship and it’s over’.

‘Ankahi’—the title of this track—happens over a period of a few days and practicality be damned for what’s about to unfold! The wonderful music at the background and that unmissable voice of Prateek Kuhad takes you back to 90s Bollywood when love was simpler, and its presentation, visually captivating.

It is not easy to marry the mundanity of life with an Utopian world but Irani does it with aplomb. ‘Ankahi’ trusts that its viewers are intelligent to read between the lines and so Irani—very bravely—leaves a lot on us to interpret. Now we don’t know about you, but we shut our laptops with a big, wide smile on our faces.