For 90’s bolly kids like myself, life would never have been the same if it wasn’t for this particular movie. I know how to weave a friendship band. And I know you probably owned a “C_O_O_L” necklace like Rahul at some point in your life, too.
Today we’re rewinding Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, because rare things feel as good as a solid kick to the childhood.
Kuch Kuch Hota Hai is a beautiful story about the triumph of conformity over everything else. It is a heart-touching film experience which strengthens your ancient beliefs — don’t be yourself, especially if you’re a woman. By the end of KKHH, one finds themselves saying “Jeet hamesha p̶y̶a̶a̶r̶ sari ki hoti hai” (L̶o̶v̶e̶ sari always wins).
As we have learned, all 90’s Bollywood super hits start with a scene where someone’s reminiscing about the good days. That’s what happens here. We see a very sad Rahul (SRK, duh) standing near a burning chittha, mourning the loss of his wife, Tina, who died soon after childbirth.
Tina left 8 letters for her newborn daughter and asked Rahul’s mum to give one letter to her on each of her 8 birthdays.
We are fast-forwarded into Mumbai 8 years later. Rahul and Tina’s daughter Anjali has grown to be a total doll! A beautiful Cabbage Patch Kid doll…
She wants to be a VJ when she grows up …..LMAO!
Anjali and daddy are fascinatingly close to each other. She has to help him do everything – even shop for his clothes.
Daadi (Rahul’s mum) is a religious woman. She often delivers religious sermons on bringing up children to women in the neighbourhood.
Kid is kind of annoying but no one says anything to her because she is motherless. Everyday things remind this poor child of her motherlessness. One day at a junior talent show in school, THIS happens. #AllMyFeels…..
Daadi tells Rahul he should remarry but he believes marriage only happen once. #YOMO
Anjali’s eighth birthday arrives and she finally gets to read the last letter her mum wrote to her.
We are taken back in time, to the life of a young college-going Rahul Khanna and his annoying best friend with an unspecified gender, Anjali Sharma. Imagine dealing with this every morning.
They’re practically always fighting. Anjali fucking DETESTS having a perfectly good female reproductive system. She gets quite pissed if you remind her she’s a woman. Actually, she’s pretty much always pissed.
This is not even her final form, guys.
The amount of shit St Xavier’s college gives about Rahul and Anjali’s fights is enough to help grow crops in farms across India. If only all this time and energy was invested preparing for a test, these guys would have jobs in places other than McDonald’s in the future.
Seriously, why the fuck are these guys so excited? What is so exciting about this, please explain.
Rahul and Anjali have trouble functioning without each other, despite not being able to stand each other.
Next we meet Riffat Bee, who is Anjali’s… caretaker? I don’t know but she looks after a bunch of girls and she’s the only person who knows wassup.
And after this, we meet potential rape apologist and college principal, Mr Malhotra, who firmly believes girls wear short skirts to excite men.
Mr Malhotra’s daughter Tina (Rani Mukherjee) has arrived from London. She quit Oxford to join St. Xavier’s college in India. Yup. Brilliant decision. Exactly why your dumbass shouldn’t be at Oxford.
Rahul is struck by Tina’s beauty, but the narrow-minded misogynist shitnugget in him is standing in the way.
But soon, Tina proves her mettle and qualifies as sanskaari bahu/biwi material. A hymn is a surefire way to win most desis’ hearts.
Got caught shoplifting? Break into a hymn.
Bad grades? Hymn your way out.
Rishta time? Hymn swag.
In English class, a little bit of inefficient hinting on Rahul’s part leads to this massive misunderstanding.
Lots of our favourite songs happen while strengthening this misconception further….Koi Mil Gaya!
Rahul and Tina’s love is blooming. Anjali is as relevant as stick-on nails on a rabbit.
Anjali begins to get overly possessive about Rahul, which is LOLworthy and not something you need to acknowledge. Her realness ain’t shit compared to Tina’s sanskaar-skirt combo. Dat shit KILLAH.
As you would expect, Anjali’s attempts to become Rahul’s main squeeze go in vain. Dressing up girly, trying to be nice — nothing works. She’s always the pichwaara of all jokes and is forever going to be in the bro-zone.
Heartbroken to see Rahul and Tina in love, Anjali decides to leave the college and go to another city, back to her family. I’ve been bro-zoned before, that shit does make you want to move to another city.
90 minutes of film later, Anjali (Rahul’s daughter) gets done with reading her mum’s letter. She’s eight. Who the fuck writes a novel for an eight-year-old? You guessed it – Tina.
Of course Tina mummy hasn’t taken into consideration that it has been EIGHT FUCKING YEARS. Anjali is probably married and has three kids. Or she’s dead. Or has moved to Vegas. But oh well.
Little Anjali asks her dad about his college BFF Anjali and he tells her what she was like.
Anjali Sharma has finally turned into every other girl. By defeating her actual sporty personality after years of struggle, she is perfect bahu material. But UH OH. She’s getting engaged to Aman (Salman Khan).
Meanwhile, little Anjali and her grandparents are trying to trace back big Anjali. From school records to going to Riffat Bee, they try everything.
When they reach Riffat Bee’s house, she’s obviously praying because believe it or not, that is all us Muslims do in films.
Aunties pray on janamaaz, and uncles (often called Kareem Chacha) wear skullcaps and hold rosaries for fashion.
Luckily, Riffat Bee tells them where Anjali lives and that she’s getting married in a week. But then Little Anjali begins to pray and somehow, Big Anjali’s wedding is delayed until December.
Religious daadi ji is going to whoop her ass when they get home for sure.
Not only is the wedding delayed but we also find out Big Anjali is considering this entire thing a compromise and isn’t in love with Aman.
Big Anjali goes to a summer camp in Shimla every year to teach kids dancing and singing. Being a stalker from the womb, Little Anjali is obviously on her way to that summer camp now.
Meanwhile, Rahul and Aman bump into each other at a conference over a “Anjali calling” mix-up at the hotel’s reception. And Aman’s just… weird. This is not how you start a conversation.
Anjali meets Anjali at summer camp. Creep that she is, the kid doesn’t spare a minute before freaking out her teacher.
Through a TV show where “love messages” are being sent out, Big Anjali realises Little Anjali is Rahul and Tina’s daughter. She also misses another huuuge ass misconception by a hair.
Little Anjali fakes being ill, making concerned father Rahul catch the first flight/truck/train to Shimla. He sees Anjali at the summer camp… Big Anjali. #HawtDamn
A fews days later, Rahul’s male superiority complex kicks in again and he declares that women cannot play basketball, thereby earning a basketball match with Anjali.
They both cheat a little and Anjali loses.
And soon, they start getting attracted to each other. By “soon”, I mean over one 3-minute song.
Hell, things even get kind of steamy on rainy night.
In the middle of the mating dance, Anjali realises she’s engaged and runs into the woods crying. You know, because that is the right thing to do. There, she confesses her love for Rahul to… herself. Or this tree.
I have a few questions at this point. How did this Rottweiler get here? No, not to Shimla, I mean this particular tree in the middle of the woods. Is this man a dog? How do you trace a person clung to a tree in the woods on a rainy dark night? Shit, I can barely see my own hand when it rains.
Also, why did he not ask WTF Anjali was doing confessing her love to a tree? Why would you say “I love you too” to her unless you are this tree?
Even on other notes, Aman is beyond annoying and scary. He often gives you those “I love you but may kill one day” vibes. And I think he’s drunk most of the time.
Mind you, Rahul is shady as fuck also. Upon discovering Aman is Anjali’s fiance, dude totally acts like nothing happened last night.
Little Anjali tries everything she can to stop this union from happening.
Everyone’s tricks fail and Anjali leaves the camp early, looking forward to her wedding. Even the quiet Sikh kid who is always counting stars can’t stop her. Yes, that one kid who came to camp to get sky fuckin’ high, clearly.
Rahul gives Anjali a red chunri she once gave to Tina. Did he pull it out of his ass? Does he always carry it? #fuckreason
Anjali takes it and leaves. Rahul’s life sucks. It’s ALWAYS like this when he’s in a movie with Kajol.
Anjali goes home and insists on getting married as soon as possible. But Rahul has not entirely given up, so they go to Anjali’s wedding, only to do this. What a tease.
Forget everything. May I ask where the fuck this balcony is? Tower of The Skies? Why is there an unnerving number of stars in the sky? Was this wedding held on Hubble’s lense? Questions questions, no answers.
Now that Rahul and his uninvited family have officially stunk up this bhalli changi wedding — with Anjali crying, her mum getting uncomfortable, and Aman getting mad suspicious — these bitches decide it is okay to leave. Thanks a lot for that, guys. Poor Aman, getting in the middle of your bitch tantrums.
Aman, who can sense what is wrong (as can everyone at the wedding) gets up, grabs Anjali by the arm and tells her what she should do. She makes an assessment.
OMG DUH. I would pick Rahul in a blink too. SOOO CUTE. So what if it took 8 years, a daughter, lots of saris, lots of make-up, Tina’s death, a destroyed wedding and a forced meeting for him to realise he was in love?
Also, Aman’s sense of humour, my god, ew. Who cares if he’s nice enough to sacrifice everything for Anjali’s happiness? I’d rather he marry that basketball he was eyeing earlier.
Guess he wasn’t A-man enough for her (haaaaaaaaaaaa).
So that is that. Hope you all learned a few things:
- You have to be selfish sometimes.
- Wear saris. Saris are fkn rad, boys love that shit.
- No skirts for good girls unless you can pair them up with a hymn. #summercollection
- Pick Shah Rukh, always.
- Bad boys win
- Don’t write long letters to 8-year-olds. In fact, avoid any interaction with children.