has dawned on us.
And so has Dev D. The movie begins on lover's phone-call. Their dirty talk. Their innuendos. Their stuff. The lover, Dev lands in the land of fertile soil for virgin conquests and to face an egoistic journey of his own construction. There are reflections of so many spoilt brats, of angry young men who identify with his lust, his passions, his so called 'love'. His search and discovery of love, his hurt, his depression, the emotional melodrama that makes his life complete. Paro aka Parminder,is a naughty girl, ekdum bindaas and dives into hedonistic pleasures of the heart with everyday abandon. Of the confusions that arise then begins the real emotional attyachar. The real quirk of the movie is Chanda..our very own modern day Chandramukhi. An intelligent slut. And we let our hearts fathom the bloody good chemistry Dev and Chanda strike with such a charm, almost magical. But I guess surrealism has somewhat of that effect. The movie drifts and it grows on you. The style was somewhat designer-oriented, psychedelic colours interspersed with magical realism. So rustic. So original. Paro was brilliant in her act. But the charm of a firangi chick, who mouths hindi dialogue with such innocence, and utters the word Randi with such power that boasts of her insolence that even the watchman can't say it with as much weightage that she can, he still says.. CSW..commercial sex worker. a smack of good screenplay baby..the choice of life, is after all in our hands. The choice of what we do with it. Only a choice that guides our path. A small one. And we finally have to make just one teeny weeny one that defines our entire existence, that questions our very own morals , how hypocritic they may sound, rationalise our very own thoughts and justify them and make sense to ourselves. The question is not all that. It all really boils down to just one thing...To love or not to love.Yes. you've got to admit Now tht' the real question.
