Laapataa

Published in the Sunday Vijay Karnataka on 02 February, 2025

...If we motivate them, they might build more theatres around us. Even if roads, sidewalks, water, electricity, fresh air, and food are scarce, we must not fall behind in entertainment...

We have turned Sunday into Friday. Earlier, in Bollywood, Tollywood, and Hollywood, films were released on Fridays, and many found joy in watching the first day, first show. Our neighbours, Yogesh and Kalpana Shah, used to watch a movie or play every Friday. They have maintained that habit even today. Many times, we tried to adopt their routine but failed quite miserably. Still, we look up to them and are striving toward this weekly one movie goal. Watching a movie in a theatre, on the big screen, with Dolby sound, and munching on popcorn or steamed corn, brings joy that is impossible to replicate at home.

The stronger your desire, the greater the likelihood of fulfilling it. Remember the dialogue from the Bollywood film Om Shanti Om:
‘They say that if you truly desire something from the heart, the entire universe conspires to help you achieve it.’

In Bandra, Mumbai, within a 10-minute radius, we have three malls with a total of 20 theatres. What more could a cinema lover like me ask for? If I can’t fulfill this wish of watching one movie a week at the theatre now, then who could be more unfortunate than me? Ten years later, I don’t want to sit blaming myself. As the dialogue from 3 Idiots goes:
‘The letter was in hand, the taxi was at the gate, if I had just gathered a little courage, life could have been so different.’

Similarly, if I don’t succeed in my mission in the future, I’ll be saying:
‘The theatre was nearby, no need for a car, if I’d just gathered a little courage and planned better, my life could have been filled with Bollywood’s happiness!’

I also care about theatres and mall owners. If we stop going to theatres, they might collapse. It’s our duty to contribute to their economy. Look at how much they are doing for us. Why not give back by watching at least one movie a week? It would also be a refreshing change for us.

When I shared my high-minded thoughts with Sudhir, his response was, ‘Veena, do you think theatres will shut down just because you’re not going?’ As usual, I persisted:
‘Just like it’s election season and every politician, from grassroots workers to top leaders, is putting in so much effort to ensure people vote because every vote counts, my contribution to theatres is equally important. Every drop counts toward making an ocean. And if you think this is a waste of money, let’s watch morning shows on holidays, they are cheaper, less crowded, with a great ambiance, and more enjoyable.’

This was a line from our advertisements where I replaced the word season with theatre. Finally, after such an emotional appeal, Sudhir, like most husbands, gave in. With a sigh, he said, ‘As you say. What crazy ideas you come up with!’ But he started booking tickets for the Sunday morning 9 or 10 AM shows.

At work, our lunch table rule is to avoid work topics; instead, the conversations revolve around the second most important things in life, entertainment and food. Last year, discussions about the movie Lost Ladies (Laapataa Ladies) kept cropping up. Sunila had already watched it and told me, ‘You must go; it’s an amazing movie.’ Influenced by the lunch table discussions, I told Sudhir, ‘Let’s go this Sunday to World Plaza for the 9 or 10 AM show. It’s a good theatre, and morning shows are cheaper.’

Sudhir replied, ‘There’s no morning show, only a 10 PM one.’
‘No way! Late-night shows are out of the question. Let’s check World Drive.’
‘No morning shows there either. There’s a 6 PM show, but tickets are ₹1,300 each.’

Hearing this, I felt, Why spend so much unnecessarily? But I said instead, ‘6 PM means the mall will be too crowded. Let’s avoid it. Check Market City.’
‘There’s a 1 PM show on Sunday, and the tickets are reasonably priced.’
‘Oh no, what about lunch at 12?’

Sudhir gave an ultimatum: ‘This is probably the movie’s last week in theatres. It’ll soon come to OTT. Watch it then.’
‘No, no. A good movie like this should be watched in the theatre!’

So, adjusting our schedule, the entire family went to the 1 PM show on Sunday. That’s the power of lunch-table influencers! But the movie was fantastic, lighthearted yet intelligent, raising some important questions.

We compromised not just on the theatre but also on the timing. Good content and quality draw people. I shared this incident during our monthly All-India Meeting. Just as a good movie pulls in audiences, a well-planned tour can attract travellers from anywhere. Delivering excellent tours and products should always be our top priority. Let’s strive for that. Mistakes, if any, should be corrected immediately, ensuring they don’t happen again.

The movie Laapataa Ladies and the events surrounding it taught us a management lesson. If you haven’t seen it yet, make sure you do—and watch it in a theatre, okay? After all, we need to save theatres and boost their owners’ businesses. If we motivate them, they might build more theatres closer to us, so we won’t have to travel far.

Even if roads, sidewalks, water, electricity, fresh air, and food are scarce, we mustn’t fall behind in entertainment. Isn’t that a noble thought? Haha!

The story of Laapataa Ladies revolves around missing girls, unfolding beautifully. The movie even suggests how getting lost can sometimes be beneficial. Getting lost is a unique topic, some people disappear accidentally, some due to someone else’s carelessness, while others genuinely get lost in unfamiliar places.

Sometimes, on tours, people get lost or might. That’s why our tour managers constantly remind everyone to follow the group, heed instructions and directions, look for flags, and stay close to those in yellow T-shirts. This vigilance prevents the stress caused by such incidents.

But sometimes, people do lose their way, or we ourselves might have, at some point in life. Think back: when were you lost, and how did you feel? The joy of reuniting with loved ones surpasses the distress of getting lost, it’s like reaching the pinnacle of happiness. And for that, sometimes, it’s necessary to get lost.

But now, even the joy of getting lost has been taken away by technology. Thanks to mobile phones, the surprise element of ‘where, who, when’ has completely vanished. Not that it’s a bad thing; it’s quite helpful, actually. It reminds me of a signboard I saw in Singapore many years ago: ‘In our country, you can never get lost. Follow the guide signs everywhere, and you’ll reach your destination effortlessly.’ Perfect. Facilities in any country should indeed be like this.

However, if a person has never been truly lost anywhere in their life, they have missed out on the unique joy of being found. It’s like the famous Bollywood line, ‘Hai kambakht, tune to pi hi nahin’ (‘You wretched one, you haven’t even tasted it’).

Can the art of getting lost be learned? Yes, because if it doesn’t happen naturally anymore, we might need to consciously lose ourselves to experience that joy. Sometimes, it could be ‘Lost in the Woods,’ or ‘Lost in the Forest,’ or even ‘Lost in a Book’ or ‘Lost in Thoughts.’ We need this. Only when we allow ourselves to be completely lost will we truly find ourselves and experience the unparalleled joy that comes with it.

However, for this to happen, we must first ‘lose’ our closest companion, the mobile phone. For a few hours every day, either the mobile or we must go missing from each other’s lives.