Memories Lost and Found

A film is – or should be – more like music than like fiction. It should be a progression of moods and feelings.
-Stanley Kubrick

Sporting a rugged, yet boyish look, carefree Krish Kapoor (Ahaan Pandey) whizzes across the corridors of a Mumbai art-deco building in his Harley-Davidson X440 while Vaani (Aneet Padda), his girl, clutches him tightly not because Krish is speeding but because she’s not experienced this freedom in a long time.

Krish’s untamed hair runs wild in the wind while his droopy, rebellious eyes seem to care two hoots about the world when he has Vaani by his side. In contrast, Vaani’s eyes seem lost, lost in love, lost in her lyrics but most importantly, lost to herself.

If Krish creates music, then Vaani, the poet, breathes words into his music. A classic tale of opposites attract, Saiyaraa, takes you back to the 90s Hindi movies era when boy meets girl, falls in love, and wins her despite all odds. In Saiyaraa the opposition is not from family but memories. Memories that remind us of the ephemeral nature of time and living in the moment. This is Jab We Met meets Rockstar.

Saiyaraa‘s greatest strength is its earworm music and not one song feels out of place. If music gives you solace, then you’ll wait with bated breath for each song in the film. When Jubin Nautiyal croons Barbaad, Krish laments the loss of pain if he falls for his beloved, that very pain which Jordan so desperately searches for in Rockstar; in Dhun, Arijit Singh pleads guilty for not having a Taj Mahal to offer but just a mere melody or song for his beloved; but the icing on the cake (or riff on the guitar) comes with the title track where Irshad Kamil’s lyrics refuse to blame the beloved for the heartbreak, and singer Faheem wails his heart out when Krish learns that he might lose Vaani forever.

The story of doomed lovers is as old as time itself but both Ahaan Pandey and Aneet Padda breath fresh air to their respective characters. Inseparable as the music and lyrics that they symbolize, Ahaan and Aneet share an instant, organic chemistry as star-crossed lovers. As the young, angry, rebellious musician Krish, Ahaan carries his character so maturely, one can barely believe this is his debut feature.

Aneet as Vaani has a charming but rooted character who communicates her fears and innocence with her deep, soulful eyes. Watch out for the monologue where Aneet describes her helplessness to write in a claustrophobic environment, which applies not just to Vaani’s character but to every artist who ever created a work of art.

Director Mohit Suri could’ve made Saiyaraa more layered, especially in the closing moments, where an open, abstract ending would’ve elevated Saiyaraa to a masterpiece. But then this is the YRF universe where even tragedies are made palatable for the masses.

Yet, Saiyaraa is Mohit Suri at his best. Suri combines old world charm perfectly with the zeitgeist of our times—on the one hand a Moleskine-styled book with its torn pages symbolizes the inner turmoil of a writer, on the other, fancy digital billboards adorn the backdrops of concerts. The storytelling itself is old-fashioned and Suri continues the legacy of Bollywood musicals like Aashiqui but the theme of memory as a metaphor is relevant more than ever today where attention spans are diminishing and what is trending today is forgotten on the morrow. Like Vaani, we too should learn to appreciate every minute and live in the moment. To quote her:

अभी भी कुछ पल बाकी हैं मेरे पास…