Taare Zamin Par- This one is special

Here is a movie that has framework, a script, and bearable degree of emotions.
Most people I know, who do not shed a tear before the celluloid have slumped in their seats with wet eyes. (This acted as a disclaimer for a person like me who has over active tear glands.)

With barely any dialogues, the pint-sized Ishaan communicated the trauma he was living each day- where alphabets and numbers do not form his world, where colour and brush strokes are his haven, where the subtleties that we overlook are felt by him…that’s the beauty of his character, and that’s the character of the movie. It is amazing to see that the entire first half of the movie strikes an instant chord with the audience sans the presence of Aamir Khan. This is Ishaan’s story.

No you don’t feel pity for the kid, you wonder how a person feels being trapped in a voiceless world. You wonder about the helplessness one can feel when no one understands the world of vagaries you live in. The sun glittering over mucky water, the serene open space of endless sky and azure reflections in the water, peering into the gutter to catch tiny fishes and have a school of it instead of a pretty gold fish…these are the elements that made me connect with the essence of Taare Zamin Par.

The story is not just about Dyslexia. It’s about how the failure of understanding from the external environment, cause withering of potential. It’s about how A Messiah who understands what the lesser mortals ignore, it’s about you and me, who fall into a pit and see only gloom, until the messiah appears. Sometimes we all need a Ram Shankar Nikumbh.

The movie is full of winning points, but somewhere I felt it was stretched unnecessarily (just like the way I stretch my writing), the point was endorsed well but the hammering continued. Aamir did justice to the movie by playing the catalyst and not hogging the entire 70mm space. The music is in sync with the storyline and my pick is Kholo Kholo- awesome guitar and beautiful lyrics. The movie captures the sensitivities with measured proportions- director sahib’s OCD for perfection produced a marvelous product. Not often do you come across a film that has an impact on the bock office solely on the strength of its script.

Yes, I almost cried, did not sob, thanks to an irritating wannabe sitting to my right, constantly drumming and strumming in the air and on a verbal diarrheic trip with his friend- idiot killed my emotion…

In the end, I realized that long ago, when I was younger, I used to sketch, and was good at it…somewhere along the growing up deal, gave it up completely…after seeing the lovely strokes in the movie, am going back to white sheets and HB pencils…

PS: I will watch the movie again…only for Darsheel Safary.