Rocky And Rani Are Perfect Lovers In A Country That Hates Differences

As a co-founder of India Love Project, an Instagram account that promotes love outside the tightly drawn boundaries of religion, caste and gender, I constantly encounter stories of parents who oppose their children’s right to choose a life partner.

The fear of disappointing one’s parents is the single most powerful emotional thread among young people in such relationships. Parental consent is everything for Indian children and so many of them crumble when faced with unbudging parental disapproval. Adult Indian children find it hard to shake off their ‘parental property’ status and the emotional blackmail of elders targeted at getting them to toe the line. Many who do make the transition to independent thinking individuals never find acceptance. They’re privileged if they are able to stay safe after exercising the right to choose.

The inability to speak up against rigid, bigoted, or just plain cruel parenting is a very visible trend among many couples. It was from this perspective that I watched and loved Karan Johar’s Rocky Aur Rani Ki Prem Kahani. His famous ‘it’s all about loving your family/parents’ philosophy gets a much needed update. Johar has always understood that not every family is as supportive, emotionally expressive and non-judgemental as his parents were, but in Rocky Aur Rani he gives young people cinematic inspiration to fight this difficult fight. He distinguishes between respecting your parents and fearing them.

The movie reminded me of my teenage daughter who nods her head agreeably at whatever I say but then goes ahead and does exactly what she pleases. Similarly, though the director puts usual emphasis on the importance of family, and one grandmother cautions that in matters of love “backseat driving family hi karta hai” meaning it all boils down to what the family wants, the lovers in this film are determined not to succumb to their elders’ prejudices.

Rocky and Rani won’t be bullied by their parents or that old Indian rule: Thou shalt not disobey thy elders. Unlike in Johar’s previous magnum opus, they don’t migrate to another country to live their own lives, glumly breaking off ties with disapproving parents. A particularly powerful scene for me was when Rani faces off with Rocky’s father. 

On the surface the plot may seem like the usual Bengali vs Punjabi cultural drama but that’s only a vehicle to tackle Indian parents’ intense dislike for any suitors who are not exactly like themselves. It’s also a depiction of the oddball nature of love and the underlying humanity that binds two people to each other, irrespective of their superficial differences. As one of the film’s writers, Ishita Moitra, said in an interview: “It’s a shout-out to inclusivity.”

I’m happy to report that the conflicts between the characters don’t give you a headache. The film makes all its points lightly and with a sense of humour. The blingy sets that sometimes have echoes of a Manyavar advertisement, the non-stop songs and silly, OTT humour seem to be encouraging moviegoers to have fun at a time when love is under attack in this country. One scriptwriter I follow on Instagram said she found the movie therapeutic and it’s exactly that.

Johar’s cred as an influencer is as strong as ever. And in this film he chooses to inspire young people to speak up for themselves. We’ve seen Rani on the big screen before. Her character is an updated take on Hema Malini’s Geeta in Seeta Aur Geeta (1972) and Rekha in Khoobsurat (1999). One song, picturised in all-red evokes the defiance of that Mughal-e-Azam (1960) classic Pyaar Kiya Toh Darna Kya. This time it’s Ishq Kiya Toh Sharm Kya? I hope young lovers are listening. There are old songs galore (my favourite was a less heard 1966 OP Nayyar song); that evergreen DDLJ mandolin; a recurring hat tip to a 1990s favourite by Baba Sehgal and Annu Malik; and a stunning all-male tribute to 2002’s Dola Re.

“Raising good Indian girls is still all about crushing any sense of self, so they can please and serve others and feel guilty if they think of themselves,” author Deepa Narayan wrote in Chup: Breaking the Silence About Being A Woman Today. “Duty is wrapped up in morality. Morality is wrapped up in religious myths and stories.” As Rocky and Rani pursue their love, the writers of the film revisit this parenting strategy too, blithely freeing a couple of women from the claustrophobic boxes they have been forced to live in. So what if it’s not that easy in real life?

Like most Johar movies, the seniors have love lives (here a married senior kisses a woman who is not his wife on the lips); the leads have chemistry; the sari blouses are worth copying; and the men love dancing and are given the permission to cry freely. One senior says firmly that she won’t apologise for her infidelity. A big Indian woman—and she’s not Bhumi Pednekar with a few extra kilos—finds the courage to tell her family what she thinks of their everyday sizeism.

I saw Rocky and Rani right after I watched the Barbie movie, which has been feted for its feminism. I preferred Rani pink to Barbie pink.