Most Memorable Bollywood Onscreen Couples Of The 00's - I (2000-2003)

2000

Hrithik Roshan-Amisha Patel(Kaho Naa... Pyaar Hai)
The industry was yet to recover from its 90's hangover,and though the premise of the movie reeked of old cliches, this fresh pair had everyone in the audience coming back for 2nd and 3rd helpings.

Hrithik Roshan-Preity Zinta(Mission Kashmir)

2001

Dia Mirza-R.Madhavan(Rehnaa Hai Terre Dil Mein)

Aamir Khan-Gracy Singh(Lagaan)

Akshaye Khanna-Dimple Kapadia(Dil Chahta Hai)
One of the first instances of an out-of-the-box casting, yet handled with enviable maturity, Farhan Akhtar's portrayal of Siddharth-Tara heralded the arrival of the 'new' Bollywood.

Saif Ali Khan-Sonali Kulkarni(Dil Chahta Hai)


ShahRukh Khan-Kajol(Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham)Definitely the least mentionable of the SRK-Kajol outings, this one still had a distinct charm of its own.

2002

ShahRukh Khan-Aishwarya Rai(Devdas)

ShahRukh Khan-Madhuri Dixit(Devdas)

Rahul Bose-Konkana Sensharma(Mr.and Mrs. Iyer)

Vivek Oberoi-Rani Mukherji(Saathiya)

2003

John Abraham-Bipasha Basu(Jism)The movie was widely panned by critics for being unoriginal, but this was probably the first time Bollywood was being fearless about the depiction of infidelity and sex. A lot of similar ventures followed, and there came a time when "Nothing sells in Bollywood apart from sex and SRK". With the exception of this one and Murder, none of the others passed the acid-test.

ShahRukh Khan-Rani Mukerji(Chalte Chalte)

Amitabh Bachchan-Hema Malini(Baghban)Another first. Actors in their sixties, whose children were at the time starring in movies as lead actors, came together for a love story.

Hrithik Roshan-Preity Zinta(Koi Mil Gaya)The mush angle in this Rakesh Roshan movie was probably the least important factor in this movie, but Rohit couldn't have sparkled if not for his brilliant bond with Nisha. We realized this when we observed the completely bland Priya(Piggy Chops) with Hrithik's 'Krrish' three years later.

Shah Rukh Khan-Preity Zinta(Kal Ho Naa Ho)THIS,several people would vote,was the BEST onscreen couple of the 00's.

Saif Ali Khan-Preity Zinta(Kal Ho Naa Ho)Rohit continued offering his unflinching support to Naina through the times she cried, she laughed, she fell in and out and again in love with Aman. NOW,that's the kind of men reality hardly offers. Plus, Naina-Rohit's friendship-in-love-in-friendship had that extra-edge over Aman-Naina.

Roll-House Whore

There's this amazing roll-joint(no pun intended) in the gap between the Olypub and the Karnani Mansion(which according to Lijo, is a whore-house). That day, while buying rolls from that shop, Rohan,Shahana and I made jokes about us purchasing 'Whore-house Rolls'. That tussled and turned, inspired me to write a Bob-Dylan-esque piece about the 'Roll-House Whore'.

I started writing, but stopped midway, and never continued thereafter.Since I do not want my three paragraphs to get sucked into obscurity, I am posting it as a post.

Standing by the neon sign, as sedans and mercs pass by,
She unwraps her shawl, and shows some more.
Expecting the gaze of rich men, her smile conceals her sigh
This is just another night, for the roll-house whore.

Multi-chromes reflect off the leather bra, and hence light up
Her brown hair, the kohl-lined eyes, the core
Of her temple, sanctity remains, some car-door opens up
She walks in smooth, with not-much grace, the roll-house whore.

“Let’s just have sex, Conversations spoil my image”, said he
Oh, Matthew Chester of films, she realized he was
Buttons torn out, trousers removed, animal-orgasm, “What a baby!”
And then, cigarettes go up in smoke, fundamental laws.

End is where the Start is.

(I)You spend long years to figure out ways to stuff them all in together. A truckload of skeletons that must be stuffed into a closet. One tumbles out, some other two get entangled at their ribs. The skull comes off a fourth, the knee caps of a fifth turn into dust. Yet conveniently, you manipulate and mutilate enough just to dispose them off, into their silent, nonchalant existence into the closet. You feel relieved. Like they have been done away with forever. Into that little wardrobe of yours, at the other end of which there is no Narnia. A wardrobe that seemingly has just one vent, just one channel. One lock. And then they have been reduced to silent nothings in your memory. You try to forget the skeletons were your creation.

So one day, you return home, or whatever you call that supposed secure dwelling place of yours. And- HAHA! They’re all out there. Defying the safety of that singular-valved-cupboard. Crippled, mangled, but vengeful. Venomous for having been tucked away for so long. They take over your own. It’s a defeat, ultimately.

(II)Ofcourse. My tales arent the ones worth narrating. Let's spend this last evening of my life listening to you.

(III)You make it a routine.
Liking them. Seeing them. Hanging out. Liking them.
They are where the world begins, and ends.
Every face.
Irreplaceable support system.
And then one defects.
You wish everything would turn to normal.

If only wishes were meant to come true.
Falling apart.
Easy way out.

(IV)Life is circular. One never departs from his flaws, but just blindfolds himself into believing it is not a circle but a line he is treading on.

(V)So tell me. Why do I not have the liberty to make my own choices?
What’s that?
You worry I shall get burned?
Well, if that fire is my only path to solace, then who are you to tell me not to take the plunge?
And what use is it.
To stay back, to dwell within you all, Only to be labeled?
Labels, conventions, yes I create them as well.
Naturally, it pains me when I need to consume what I produce.
Basic Economics. I want better, not what I can already have.
Who am I kidding?
When did I have the option?
Wasn’t fire always the only option for me?

Cinema

Chhoto chhoto golpo, Bodo shob bedona,
Boroi oshohaay tahaader drishti,
Korun chokhe'r bihwalotay, bohu jug'er lanchhona,
Eshob kichhui srishtikorta'r srishti.

Tobu dhore rakhi, chhobite, muhoortey baar-chobbish
Onek osroo, onek rong'er bishaad,
Chhoto bhanga, shada-kaalo, Chhute chole ohornish,
Kokhono ba daami, technicolor oboshaad.

Kichhu kahinee tey prochur hashi, digbidik ujjol,
Foorti'r aamej, utsab aar ulaash,
Bhalobasha'r mukhor-modhu, thoNtey khushi'r kolaahol,
Preeti-prerona'r bohumookhi nirjaash.

Shobar golpe'r choritro, bhasha,dorshon bhinno jodio
E'r golpey tumi, tomartay shey,
Koto golpo-kothay jorito shobai, meshey shob nodi-o,
Jetha-shetha, elomelo bhugol chalshe...

Chhoto chhoto golpo, Bodo shob bedona,
Boroi oshohaay tahaader drishti,
Korun chokhe'r bihwalotay, bohu jug'er lanchhona,
Eshob kichhui srishtikorta'r srishti.
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Kalpana'r matra,Bhalobasha'r jowaar
Onek desher Onek shobhyota
Bilupto nrishonshota
Aashonno nirdoyota
Shobaike joriye
Cinema.

Blue Windows

Blue windows,
Plaguing those numerous stately structures,
That, apartments, are called,
In this cold city.
Blue windows,
Contrast to the red darkness outside,
Which is the morgue, and which
The shrine, you wonder.

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Every little window speaks a tale.
Felonies severe, nipped at wrong nodes.
Every blue orifice mouths
Tales of the terrible, of annihilated abodes.

Sapphire sparks of ruin, of no-remorse.
On a velvet-black reality
Lies galore, Despair soars,
The faces wallow in subverted pity.

One. Homicide. Splattered limbs, and
Entrails line walls and carpets.
Nothing taken away, often, or broken into,
Only trust capsizes, suffers silent death.

Then, assault. Of a senior or a minor.
Laws forbid, but syrupy, ambrosial,
The apples are, when taboo charms bind,
Eternal truth- still shocks, coarseness to recall.

Greed, so much. Frauds too many.
Treachery, lies, farce, deceit.
Loyalty reigns in figments, unreal.
Crushed beyond distinction, in a jungle concrete.
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So much to worry about,
So little to love.
So much to cover up for,
Nothing to rise above.

Every blue window.
Every one of those.
Has a tale to narrate.
Has a chapter to close.
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Blue windows,
Plaguing those numerous stately structures,
That, apartments, are called,
In this cold city.
Blue windows,
Contrast to the red darkness outside,
Which is the morgue, and which
The shrine, you wonder.