In the past decade or so, many filmmakers have tried to form an understanding of the rapidly evolving definitions of love in society, especially in the lives of younger people. But it has often fallen flat simply due to the fact that it came from a place of external curiosity rather than empathy.

What Anurag Basu understands is that it’s not romance that has changed. What’s changed is our fundamental threshold to accept disrespect from others, including our partners. Young people prioritise self-worth over everything else, and that’s also affected a gradual shift in the elderly who initially resisted but have ultimately tried to embrace this change in their own lives too.

Another major shift that has happened is also in our constant eagerness to explore - an unending chase to find someone better, prettier, smarter, wealthier, more emotionally stable, and the hundred other things that each of us have in our individual checklists. I had a friend in college who had a very strict rule for herself - “The guy needs to be extremely fluent in English”. Regular fluency was also not enough, it had to be so polished that George Orwell would take lessons from him. This shift is both good and bad. Good, because people have become more cognisant of their desires and their self-worth. They refuse to settle for people just because of their fears of loneliness or insecurities about time and future. They want to be absolutely sure about the people they’re with, even it takes time. And they’ve also become much more comfortable in walking out of relationships despite all the hurt and shame that comes with it.

Bad, because we’ve gone too far. It’s boiled down to a chase for an idea of perfection that’s just in our heads, and we often let go of actually worthy, wonderful partners even when everything’s going well, either as soon as they make even the tiniest of mistakes, or because they fail to match our lifelong dreams of perfection.

It’s almost like we wait for them to make mistakes, so that we can find a reason to leave. We wait for them to be flawed enough for us to seem rational as we leave. We might, however, be accepting of far greater flaws in others simply because they qualified our initial checklist of perfection, guided mostly by superficial expectations with no real bearing on the one thing that truly matters - would you be able to live with this person for the rest of your life?

Anurag Basu wants to draw your attention back to that question in a time when things are changing too quickly and we’re rapidly losing sense of why we do whatever we do. But at the same time, he doesn’t judge. He is mindful of the complex reasons that have led to these relationship dynamics and personal choices. He knows some flaws aren’t forgivable. Sometimes people make mistakes that shouldn’t be overlooked.

But he pleads, that if possible, and only if the mistakes are forgivable enough for the person to deserve another chance, find all the courage humanly possible to do that. As the famous Robin Wayne Bailey quote goes, “The greatest act of courage is not falling in love but, despite everything, falling in love again”. Basu repurposes it to say that that courage lies in falling in love with the same person again and again.

With Metro In Dino, Anurag Basu also shows yet again that very few will ever come close to mastering the art of musicals like he has. He doesn’t just tell the story through music, he weaves the musicians into the story itself. He designs his shots and edits not just according to the music, but also according to the musicians. The musicians are everything - the narrators, the observers, a representation of the psyche of the characters, stand-ins for the audience, and also strangers in the city that we are unknowingly connected with.

I want to be a silent observer in his filmmaking process once just to see how closely he works with the musicians and lyricists while putting his film together. Pritam & the ensemble of lyricists almost seem like second authors of the film along with him, since music is central to every plot point and thematic development in the film. The musicians are more present in the film than any individual actor. And the writing of the songs is fundamental to convey the emotions & story of the film. It’s a tricky storytelling technique that can easily go wrong, but Anurag Basu treads the line so beautifully, and the result is a stunning, heartwarming musical which moves you to tears, compells you to self-reflect but also feels like the warmest hug.